“Caaarrriiiiie.” You hear your dad calling you and grimace. Here he comes.
He knocks and you let him in, surprised to see him sober. First time you’ve seen him not high off his ass in...what, a week? Still, it’s good to see him not doped up, for once.
“You uh...you going out tonight?”
You finish wrapping your hands in cloth, stretching out and looking for your jacket. “Yep.”
“Well, just...be careful. Again.”
“I’m gonna be fine, Dad. It’s just another match.”
“I know, but you came home all bruised up and shit the other night, and...and I worry. I wasn’t able to help you out, and I suck at this, and-”
“Dad, it’s okay. Really.” You get yourself pulled together and head for the door, giving him an extremely brief hug. “I know how to hold my own out there.”
“No motif use, okay?”
“Okay, okay. Just...be good. Don’t get your ass kicked.”
You give him a thumbs up and hurry on out the door, wondering if he was going to be okay tonight himself. He’d probably be out cold by the time you came back in the morning, but you had to do your own thing. You can’t just babysit your dad all the time- it felt cruel to think, so you chase that away. He’s not a very good one, but you guess he’s trying as best he can. Sort of.