His stride continued to be somewhat staggered, a fluid chaotic lack of coordination that had him settled mostly along Jack's side. It was as though admitting to himself that he was drunk allowed him to stop pretending to be sober. Ish. It wasn't the best act of sobriety he'd done but it'd been better than this. Settled and slumped and bumping into Jack's shoulder and hip until he saw the sofa and aimed a swaggered slip of a step for that, not quite tripping into place or stepping and sitting down; rather pouring himself from a standing position into a boneless, graceless sprawl over the cushions.

He made it.

That was worth something.

"The dagger. The one Isaac used-" He swallowed. Licked his lips and blinked slowly at the ceiling to crawl back from that skittering blankness that lingered in the back of his mind. "To. End it. Is that in the house?"