[Alfred watches as Oswald grasps the mug like a child with a bottle, guzzling the hot whiskey almost greedily. A better man than he might scold him for bringing Oswald liquor but those men probably haven't gone through the type of grief he and Oswald have, so for now he will supply what small comforts he can for the smaller man. A comforting embrace and a couple of glasses of whiskey to dull the pain and hopefully allow them both to sleep better than they have.]

That should help ease your throat and headache a bit.

[He says softly and when Oswald has drained the cup he takes it away and sets it aside, still holding him close.]