Please...

Mick looks up from the bed, and seeing Rosetta's face and tears, he wonders if perhaps she thought this scene spoke of something worse than intended. His eyes drop again, looking to his packed bag, and then to the floor.

Taking a deep breath, he eventually stands in front of his wife, his eyes full of so many different things. Pain, but from what? Torment, but why? Shame, but from where? The answer was there somewhere. And maybe it was time it was admitted.

Slowly, Mick shakes his head. He wasn't leaving - at least not like that. "They found Dylan," he responds quietly. "He's been doing drugs. I've told them to take him to the McClain's instead of here. They're better equipped to handle something like that." The sadness in his voice gives away the disappointment. "I... I'm going to go see him and... stay a few days."

Taking a step forward, he reaches out with a rough, but gentle hand to wipe away one of Rosetta's tears. He could just leave it at that. It made sense. No one would question him going to see his son. But it wasn't the whole truth. It was just an avenue... a prompt for a bigger step for his own sake.

"I don't know how to tell you I failed," he whispers. It was rare that tears rose in his eyes, but there was no mistaking the moisture pooling in front of his gaze. Dropping his hand, he wanders to the closet, and comes out a moment later to set an almost-empty bottle of whiskey on their dresser. He stares at it a moment before looking back to Rosetta. "Maybe Dylan's need for rehab has a purpose greater than just him."

Leaving the bottle, he goes back to his bag, checking the side pockets before deciding he had all that he needed. It took more strength than he could imagine, just to turn around and face Rosetta again. "I'm sorry." He almost chokes on his own words. "Please don't hate me."


Kip grins and rolls his eyes. "You're right - I wouldn't have asked. Come on." Grabbing his jacket and a set of keys, he opens the door for Karla, following her and Rin outside. Walking to a nearby car, he lets her and Rin in first, then slides in behind the wheel. It's a quiet ride to Karla's apartment, though it takes a lot less time than walking had.

Pulling up to the curb, Kip doesn't let her out right away. "Hey, before you go..." He fishes in his pocket for a wrinkled piece of paper. Jotted on it was a phone number. "This is Carol, Erik's mom's number. She's been looking for some help cleaning around the house since someone else left a few weeks ago. I don't know what she's paying, but I know it would be fair, and I know she'd work with you on the hours and stuff. So... here." He hands Karla the paper. "Think about it. And... if you need a ride or something..." He turns her hand over to show the backside of the paper. "That's my number."