Title: Choices

Author: Thesseli

Fandom: The Drew Carey Show

Rating: PG-13.

Genre: Slash.

Summary: Drew thinks about the choices he's made, when he's suddenly offered a new and different sort of choice.

Archive: yes

Email: thesseli@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; I'm just borrowing them. No fictional characters that look like

castmembers of Whose Line Is It Anyway were harmed in the writing of this story.

Choices

by Thesseli

It was Friday night, and Drew Carey was drunk.

He'd been sitting in the Warsaw, alone, for most of the night.In the past few weeks, he'd made what had to be the worst set of mistakes of his entire life -- marrying Nikki, then marrying Kate, and then trying to hide each wife from the other while trying to figure out who he really wanted to be with. It had all come out in the end, of course. By the time he'd finished his soul-searching and chosen Kate, each woman had learned what he'd done. Kate and Nikki had both left him.

Now Drew was despondent, drunk, and alone in the bar he'd been spending way too much time in lately. But at least the alcohol could dull his feelings down to a hazy, bland numbness...it was much better than being sober. If he was sober, he would have to face what he'd done to himself, his friends, his life.

He stared down into his glass. All he wanted to do was to forget, just for a little while, everything that had happened -- the never-ending problems at work, the summer in the institution, the fact that the one woman he'd ever really loved never wanted to see him again...

"Drowning your sorrows?" asked a friendly voice from nearby.

Drew looked up, surprised that anyone had the inclination -- or the courage -- to come up to him while he was sending out such obvious 'I want to wallow in my own self-pity' signals. He was more surprised to see it was Eugene Anderson, an old acquaintance from work who'd since moved on to bigger and better things. Drew wasn't drunk enough to not notice the spark of concern in the other man's eyes.

Drew pushed his nearly empty glass around in a small circle on the tabletop, then laughed weakly, trying to make light of the situation. "Yeah, I guess so."

Eugene made a noncommittal sound. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

Drew shrugged. "Sure, go ahead," he sighed. "You're probably the only person who doesn't mind being seen with me right now."

The other man raised an eyebrow as he pulled out a chair. "What do you mean?"

Drew shook his head. "You wouldn't want to hear it."

"No, no, I would," he replied, sitting down and shifting his chair a little closer to Drew's. "What's up? I heard you were made manager of the new Winfred-Louder women's store, but when I went by today to congratulate you, you weren't there."

Drew looked down. "That kind of fell through."

"You wanna talk about it? You look like you could use a sympathetic ear, and it would probably make you feel better." Eugene motioned for the waitress, requesting two more beers. "I'm not going anywhere."

At first reluctant, Drew soon found himself telling Eugene everything. The problems at work with both Mimi and Wick; the institution; the horrible mistakes he had made with Nikki and Kate, and how he was paying the price for them now. It was almost a relief to have someone to talk to, but at the back of his mind, he couldn't believe he'd come to this. Confessing his sins to someone he wasn't even that close to... to someone who was probably only there because of a passing attraction a few years ago.

It was amazing, he thought derisively, what the combination of self-pity and alcohol could do to your inhibitions. Or your pride.

"Oh, Drew," sighed Eugene, when he'd finally finished his story. With a half-sad, half-helpful expression, he began rubbing Drew's shoulder. It was totally non-sexual and non-threatening, but even so, Drew was kind of glad that by now the bar was nearly empty. If Eugene noticed the slight apprehension, he didn't say anything about it. "I know things look bad right now, but trust me, they'll get better. I know. They say that time heals all wounds... maybe that's just what Kate needs, time to think about everything. You're a good man, Drew; don't let anyone tell you different."

"Yeah, right," Drew snorted. "Kate said she never wants to see me again. She won't return my phone calls, she's not even coming to the Warsaw anymore. I don't know what I'm going to do..."

Eugene regarded him pensively. "I think the first thing you should do is go home and get some rest." Then he smiled. "You want to wake up nice and fresh for your hangover tomorrow morning," he teased gently.

"I don't want to wake up tomorrow morning. I just want to sleep until everything's back to normal. I want things to be the way they used to be."

Eugene shook his head. "Come on. I'll take you home."

"I can still drive," Drew protested...weakly, since he was glad for the company. Being alone right now, after all the soul-searching and gut-spilling, would only make him more miserable. He didn't object any more when Eugene led him to his car.

"Why did you want to see me today?" Drew asked, once they were on their way. He'd wondered about that earlier, but at that time he'd been too involved in talking about his problems to really think about much else. Now that there was comparative silence, the question raised itself again. Eugene was gay, or at least bisexual -- he'd seen a wedding ring when he'd first been introduced to the other man a fewyears ago -- and since then he'd let his attraction to Drew be known on several occasions. He wondered if he was seeinganyone now, and if he was, why he'd come to the Warsaw alone on a Friday night.

"Like I said, to congratulate you," said Eugene. "After all, you got me the job I have now. Old friends should keep in touch."

Drew didn't buy it...but for some reason, it didn't bother him very much. He'd probably seen the story in the paper that Nikki had written. "You're sure you didn't come by just to see the impotent bisexual bigamist?" he said dourly.

Eugene laughed. "Well, I have to admit that I was a little intrigued...especially about the 'bisexual' part." He smiled again, somehow managing to look both mischievous and shy at the same time. It was certainly appealing; Drew wondered how he did that.

"That was just so Mr. Wick could stay in the country -- no woman would marry him, and he promised to give me my job back..." he replied. "Sounds pretty pathetic, doesn't it."

Eugene shook his head again. "Oh Drew, you really need to get out of that place. All these years you've worked there, and you haven't gotten a shred of the recognition or reward you deserve. That place would probably be closed, or bankrupt, if it weren't for you."

Drew frowned as he considered this. "You really think so?"

"Yes." Then, as they pulled up in front of Drew's house, "We're here."

Drew looked down again, staring at his hands in his lap. It was nice, for a change, having someone fairly intelligent to talk to. Someone pleasant. Someone who would simply listen and not judge him, someone who didn't care that he'd been sent to the funny farm, or that he was in a go-nowhere job, or that he'd married another man...

"You, um, you wanna come in? I have beer, and pretzels, and some leftover pizza in the fridge," he said.

Eugene looked into his eyes, holding them. "Well, I could've had all that at the bar, but yes. Yes, I'd like that," he said thoughtfully. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose..."

Drew gazed at him levelly. Did it really matter if Eugene was still attracted to him or not? And why didn't he mind if he still was? "Yes, I'm sure."

********

When Drew woke up the next morning, he had a pounding headache. He was also alone.

On the nightstand there was a note, with his glasses on top of it so there would be no way it could be missed. He put them on and took the paper in his hands, unsure of what to expect.

Dear Drew, he read. Hope you don't mind that I couldn't stay -- I know you've got a lot on your mind, and I don't know if my being here in the morning would make things worse. I hope not, but I understand that sometimes we don't always make the best decisions for ourselves, especially when we've been drinking... and we did have an awful lot to drink last night. Hell, I don't know if you'll even remember last night, but if you do, well... you know my number. And if you don't, I just want you to know that I had a good time...and like I said, things will get better for you. No matter what the future holds, or which future you choose. Things will get better, because you can always make new choices.

The letter was unsigned, but of course he knew who it was from. As if he could have forgotten what they'd done last night. What they'd done three times last night. He took his glasses off again and rubbed his eyes, ignoring the aching in his head as he thought about what the note said, and what it left unsaid.

//He's leaving me an out. In case I want to pretend this never happened.//

He knew what Eugene was doing, and that he was doing it to make this easier for him, but in a way, the implication stung -- that he wouldn't want to acknowledge the morning after what he'd needed so much the night before. Not just the sex, but a kind word, a sensitive ear, a shoulder to cry on. A friend.

He thought about it some more. He supposed he could do that, just pretend that he couldn't remember or that he was too drunk to know or to care...but he didn't want to. He was tired of lies, and mistakes, and the ultimately self-destructive behavior. He was tired of always making the same wrong choices.

He picked up the phone, decided. He needed to make a call.

END