"I love you too," Tasha said, and sniffed hard. She needed to pull herself together. She wiped the tears away from her eyes, and tried to focus again. "I came home from work," she began, "and I found Dad on the floor in the kitchen. He was already unconscious, and covered in vomit and... he'd wet himself, and there was blood. He'd cut himself on a bottle, it was broken all over the floor- shit." She hadn't even thought about that until now. She'd been too focused on helping Peter. "Fuck, he was drinking! Goddammit," she hissed. If - when - Peter woke up, she was going to rip him a new one for that.