[Before, when Doug’s bought alcohol, it’s been a matter of resistance. He likes to prove to himself he can throw it away. Pour it down the sink and then smash it as hard as he can.
It’s always been days better than this, though. Days when he’s upset, spent too much time thinking of Anne or what he’s done in the past.
It’s not like today, when he has to grapple with two very distinct possibilities. With everything that had been said the night prior, there’s a chance that Daniel was sick and injured somewhere, teetering on death or already succumbed. There’s also the option that Minkowski had suggested. He’d found a better place to go. That he’d gone to a place filled with memories of the one person Doug feels he actually hates.
A breakup would have been fine. He might have struggled, but he would have found a way. This is different. Either he’d have someone to mourn, or someone didn’t even think he was good enough to say goodbye to.
It’s no surprise that he crumbles.
To his credit, Doug does manage to pour out and break one. It’s only halfway through the second one that somehow, it’s no longer going down the sink, but down his throat. The liquid is gone in seconds, and Doug throws it to the floor with its cousin, sending brown glass skittering in all directions.
The rest is squirreled away. He can already feel the warmth in his limbs, and he needed the good vibes to last.
Besides, he’d have another source coming soon, anyway.]
