Raiden eyed the can and, much to his own despair, wished he could accept it. For years the only place he could escape his memories was the bottom of a bottle. He never truly overcame alcoholism. The only reason he'd stopped drinking was that he lost his body from the molars down. That had a way of killing any sort of substance dependency.

"No, thanks."

He sat down next to Nate and looked at the pile of cans, making a mental note to clean them up later.

"...Fuck."