[He had to very carefully make himself let go of the glass, because it was already cracked and if he kept putting pressure on it, he might just end up with a hand full of shards.]

[This was a bad idea, the alcohol was a bad idea, he should've locked himself in the helm until he'd gotten his shit together. And he was going to get it together, he would damn well man up and deal with it, because didn't need anyone's help even when his life was turning into a mess. This was his mess; he'd made this bed and he was damn well going to lie in it.]

[Joker forced his voice into something sort of like calmness, but he couldn't make it not sound tense.] I'm fine, Garrus. Nothing happened, it's just been a long couple of days.