AN: For . The prompts are on the forum if you want to find them. Endless made an interesting observation about Ria, Cal and Gillian's father's all being drinkers. Definitely something worth exploring. I hope I did it justice Endless...
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"That's cute," Gillian teased. Cal grinned. "But that doesn't get you out of the meeting." Cal pouted. "Neither does that," Gillian pointed at him as she got up.
"When is it?" Cal asked as if he were pained and it was the world's greatest inconvenience.
"Tomorrow morning," Gillian told him again as she walked away. "Need me to give you a wakeup call so you get here on time?" She heard Cal chuckle. At the door she turned to face him.
"I'm pretty sure I can get my own butt out of bed."
"Yes I know you can, but on time please."
"Seein' as you asked so nicely!" Cal sing-songed as she passed through his office door frame. Gillian smiled to herself as she crossed the hallway. She was going to ring him anyway. Then he couldn't use that as an excuse. She had also told him the meeting was at nine when it was actually ten. That way, he had a whole hour of messing around up his sleeve before she actually needed him to be here. And she knew he would use that entire hour too because he figured the meeting would only be an hour long and he would show up at ten thinking it was all over. She grinned to herself as she sat at her desk. He would show up at ten tomorrow and find the meeting just about to begin. Priceless.
A loud angry voice in the corridor disturbed her fifteen minutes later. She couldn't make out what was said but the yelling was obnoxious enough for her to be concerned. As she got up she saw Cal power out of his office and head towards the commotion. When she opened her office door she could hear a female voice. And when she came around the corner she found Ria confronted with a very angry man. Cal bowled right on up to him and got in his face and asked what the hell was going on.
"This is nothing to do with you little man. Get out of my way." A beefy hand came down on Cal's shoulder and shoved him out of the way. Gillian saw the maniacal grin on Cal's face as he caught his balanced against the wall and dread settled into her stomach. She hurried towards them, not wanting to get in the way of the angry man but certainly wanting to pull Cal to the side before he managed to do something to aggravate the situation. Before he got himself into trouble.
"Please just go," Ria begged. Gillian could see her hands shaking as she got closer. And too late to intervene with Cal. He straightened up, put himself between Ria and the man and got in close again.
"She asked you to leave."
"I'm not talking to you."
"Well I'm talkin' to you," Cal got closer, his small stature dwarfed by the intimidating presence of what Gillian's first guess was Ria's boyfriend.
"Get out of the way," he attempted another shove but Cal was ready for it. He barely moved. For a little guy, he was actually quite strong. He was lean, muscled and quick when he needed to be. When he wanted to be, Gillian corrected. She reached Anna's desk and quietly asked her to call the police.
"Now I'm askin' you to leave," Cal continued, his eyes never breaking contact.
"What's it to you? I want to talk to my daughter!"
"And she doesn't wanna talk to you mate!" Cal raised his voice to match the intensity all ready set.
'Her father,' Gillian thought. She was surprised but then maybe not so much. She could see a resemblance. And Ria was clearly scared.
"She's my daughter."
"And this is my buildin'. So get out," Cal growled and stepped closer. Finally Ria's father looked down at the Englishman. They stared each other down for a moment and Gillian started to think maybe the situation was resolving itself.
"Why don't you make me?"
Gillian groaned inwardly. He may as well have waved a big red cape in Cal's face. It was like dangling candy in front of a baby. It was like hanging a hunk of steak in front of a salivating lion. Gillian could physically see Cal puff up with the challenge of forcibly removing Ria's father from the premises. "Cal," she stepped forward. She didn't know what she was going to do, pull Cal away? Try and talk sense into either of them? She approached on the edges. "Cal, the police are on their way."
"That's nice luv," Cal responded gently.
"What is with you?" The fury was turned on her and she recoiled a little once she saw the burning black coldness of Ria's father's eyes. He was on something. She could tell straight away. She had done drug counselling. And she had personal experience.
"Sir," she tried for respect. "Please leave."
"Why don't you stay out of it bitch?" He lunged toward her. Cal moved with him. But not quick enough. He wasn't fast enough to stop the force of Ria's father's fist heading towards Gillian's face. She kind of saw it coming but found herself unable to react. It glanced off her right eye socket, knocked slightly off its intended path by Cal. Gillian felt herself falling next, considering she was completely unprepared for the attack. She was forced to take a step back but got tangled around her own feet and struck her head on the corner of the wall. She was pretty sure she blacked out, because the next thing she registered was a lot of noise (voices, not the rushing of consciousness coming back in) and Ria crouching in front of her, concern written all over her face, muttering over and over 'oh my god, oh my god' and her hands on Gillian's shoulders, helping her sit up, the warmth of something running down her neck, and Cal in the background, exchanging fists with Ria's father.
"I'm ok," Gillian attempted. She sounded weird in her own ears. She sat up higher, suspecting it wouldn't be a good idea to actually get to her feet right now. "I'm ok," she repeated. She placed a hand on her head where it was numb with pain. She couldn't tell exactly where she was hurt but when she pulled her hand away it was covered in blood and she felt a stab of panic.
Anna approached with a towel and Ria pressed it on to the wound firmly. That hurt more and Gillian winced and Ria looked scared and in the background she could hear the dull blows and grunts of Cal and Ria's father hitting each other and scuffling around. She had no idea if they were on the ground or who was getting the better of whom. What she was drawn to was the fear in Ria's eyes. She had only ever seen the strong Ria; the sometimes a little insecure Ria, but mostly this was a woman who had stepped up out of the mess of her past. Somehow that past had followed her here.
It went quiet all of a sudden and Gillian could hear the voices of officers, their tone authoritative. She was checked over by a paramedic. She'd have a headache and probably a bruise but she wasn't concussed. Ria took her to the break room and left her with Anna and a glass of water while she went to make her statement. Anna made one. Gillian made one. She assumed Cal made one. She asked Anna to go and find out what had happened to Cal. A minute later he was pulling the door open. There was blood splattered down the front of his shirt. "Oh my god are you ok?" Gillian asked scanning his face for a cut. She could see red marks that tomorrow would deliver bruises.
"It's not mine," Cal reached her and knelt, his chameleon eyes watching her intently. This evening, they looked green. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"You need a sleepin' buddy to wake you every hour?"
"No," Gillian gave a light laugh. "No concussion."
Cal's fingers reached up to her eye and traced lightly around the mottled mark all ready marring her eye socket. "I'm sorry luv."
"Not your fault," Gillian responded.
His eyes suddenly focused on hers. "Should have moved farsta."
"We should talk to Ria. Make sure she's ok before she goes home. Maybe she shouldn't go home." Gillian grabbed his fingers and pulled them away from her face. Cal winced. Gillian looked down at his knuckles. "You should get some ice."
Cal withdrew his hand and stood. "You get the ice luv, I'll get the scotch."
Gillian got up and found ice in the freezer; enough for the both of them. She got mugs from the cupboard and turned to find Ria hovering unsure in the doorway. "They'll set bail in the morning."
Gillian nodded. "That's good. You can at least get a good night's sleep and not worry about him." Ria gave a slight nod. "I have a spare room," Gillian offered.
"Thanks but, you've all ready done enough for me. You and Doctor Lightman. I'm really sorry."
Gillian grabbed another mug and held out two to Ria. "That's ok."
"It's not really ok," Ria was studying the bruise on her eye. Gillian grabbed some dish towels and the bucket of ice and the third mug. She indicated Ria should walk with her. "I'm so sorry you got caught in the middle."
"It really is ok Ria."
"And Doctor Lightman," Ria continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He threw himself into the middle. I've seen him do it before but he's never done it for me..."
"And he'd do it again in a heartbeat," Gillian told her as they reached Cal's office. He was on his cell phone, one hand dug deep in his jean's pocket. He had changed his shirt. Gillian crossed to the arm chair and perched, setting her ministrations on the table in front of her. "Sit," she told Ria, who obliged immediately. "Pour," she instructed, indicating the bottle of scotch. Gillian doled out ice into each mug and Ria poured a double measure of alcohol while Gillian packaged up the remaining ice into two tidy bundles, a slightly bigger one for Cal's hand.
"You look like you've done that before," Ria noted.
"You hang around Cal long enough," Gillian answered with a slight smile to finish the sentence. "Drink," she instructed.
Ria picked up her mug. "I've never seen him do that for me though. I mean he got right in there just to defend me."
"Well you're family," Gillian grabbed her drink and sat back in the chair. She raised the ice gingerly to her eye. It was tender but it hadn't started to throb yet. She was going to feel it in the morning though. "And we protect our family here."
Ria swallowed a mouthful of scotch. "Is that why he's so hard on Loker? Because his family loyalty is conditional?'
Gillian gave a slight nod of confirmation as Cal hung the phone up and threw himself down on the couch. Gillian pointed to his drink and the ice. Cal took the mug. Gillian glared at him. He reached for the ice and balanced it on the back of his right hand. Ria attempted to thank him for intervening but Cal waved her comments away quickly. Gillian felt her skin start to go numb so shifted the ice to her head. It stung and she ignored it, not wanting Ria to feel any more guilt than she did. It wasn't her fault her father had shown up. Although how he'd found her Gillian would be interested in knowing. And why it seemed as though Ria had been hiding from him. She had always got the impression he was in prison. Maybe she should have asked.
"You know my Dad, he's been an angry drunk for as long as I can remember, but my mother claims he used to be sweet."
Gillian's eyes glanced at Cal. He sat silently, staring Ria down like he always did. He wasn't showing any signs of being interested in the conversation.
"According to her, he also wasn't always violent. But he used to hit her for as long as I can remember."
Gillian kept quiet. She couldn't relate to this.
"I was five the first time he slapped me. It was a back hand across the face. Stung like a bitch but," she shrugged. "In some strange way I was grateful that he'd given my mother a break for once."
Gillian felt her stomach tighten in what she would describe as empathetic discomfort. She felt as though she should say something and then she was surprised even further.
"I was six," Cal spoke up. He took a drink. "When my Dad started smackin' me around."
Ria's eyes widened in surprise. Cal hadn't moved, hadn't even reacted to anything, just opened his mouth and let the words slip out. Gillian turned her attention to Cal, always curious to see how much of himself he would reveal to others. And on this subject, more often than not she was hearing things for the first time too.
"He had a length of insulated wire, about two feet of it, and he whipped me around the back of the legs until he drew blood."
Ria drank. "My dad used his belt. But he didn't stop until he drew blood."
Gillian sat, listening, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair while she held the ice against her head.
"My father would come home drunk every night and shove my mother around. One time he pushed her into the stove so hard he left a bruise across her back for three weeks and left a gash in the wall."
Cal drank. Then he leaned forward to refill and Ria indicated she needed more too. Gillian wondered if this had become a game of sorts. It didn't seem like a competition, but a game, 'I never...'
"The fridge," Cal sat back again. He told another story, about the time his father pushed him down onto the concrete driveway and fractured his elbow. Ria talked about the time her father had smashed her square on the nose and broken it. It was the first thing she had ever saved up to buy once she was a working adult; a new nose.
"You're not drinkin' luv," Cal turned to Gillian.
"You know my father never hit me or my mother," Gillian responded. "He just drank away the money we needed for food."
Cal and Ria both drank to that one.
"He'd come to school plays reeking of booze."
Neither of them drank to that.
"Or try and take me to school drunk the next morning."
"My mother used to beg my father to leave some money to pay the power bill," Ria noted.
Gillian didn't mind the interruption. She didn't particularly want to talk about her father. To be honest, she was still undecided if she had forgiven him or not. Sometimes he was a great father, and then other times he drank.
"Begged him. Of course he only did that when it suited him."
Cal drank to that. Gillian had to drink to that too.
"My mutha had to go beg round the shops to get her pay check early," Cal noted. "While I sat in the dark at home cos we were behind."
Gillian drank to that too. It finished her mug. "My mother had to beg her mother for money." She shifted the ice pack back to her eye. The ice was melting into the material of the towel now and it was getting soggy.
"So does that make you a natural?" Ria asked Cal. "I mean, you and I had a similar upbringing."
"No," Cal cut her off. "I told you, not a natural. I learnt this science so I would neva be lied to again."
Gillian felt sad for him. He had his science and she had her empathy. That was how each of them tried to understand people. Except he called her a naive fool. Even after she had learnt his science. He had never learnt her empathy. In her eyes, that made him the fool. Without empathy he was only really half human. He wouldn't ever be able to fully connect with another person. Without empathy, he would never grow, get over his mother's death, his father's abuse, his wife's abandonment.
"So I'd neva be hurt again," Cal added through heavily lidded eyes.
"And how did that work out?" Ria asked.
Cal looked at Gillian. "It hasn't." Gillian looked down to fidget with her empty mug. "You're one of us now," Cal told Ria.
"I thought I was one of you before."
"No, now you're one of us," Cal said again, slowly, clearly. Ria stared at him and then nodded. Gillian nodded too to confirm it. All three of them had alcoholic father's. Gillian had always wondered if that was one of the things that had drawn her to Cal in the first place. She could see the hurt of his childhood on him from the day they met. Underneath it all he was just a scared little boy in need of love. Unconditional love. Everything with Cal had to be unconditional. Loyalty, love... lies.
"I might be a bit hung ova for that meetin' tomorrow luv," Cal focused on Gillian again.
"I'll take you home," Gillian got up, dumping her ice in her mug. She knew his cues; he'd had enough of sharing.
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"Are you gonna come in?"
"I think I might just go home and have a bath."
Cal leaned back in his chair, head lolling to the side so he could watch her. "Come inside."
Gillian watched him, trying to guess what was going through his mind. His eyes looked grey in the dim light.
"Please?" Cal asked.
"For a minute," Gillian agreed.
His house was warm and familiar and comforting. "Emily's at a friend's till late-a," Cal explained the silence. "Sit," he pointed to a chair by the breakfast island. He went down the hall and came back with a cloth. He wet it under the tap and approached her.
"What are you?" Gillian asked.
"You've got blood and all that," he turned her head gently and started wiping at her neck. She could see the cloth come away with red on it and it struck her that he was trying to protect her by cleaning up the mess himself. So she didn't go home and see herself in the mirror.
She watched him work, noting his eyes had changed to brown under the brighter lights of his kitchen. "You know you don't have to."
"I know," Cal responded quickly. He folded the cloth to get a new section and moved lower down her chest. Gillian looked to see if she had blood on her clothes and when she looked up again Cal's eyes were on her face, not her body and they were black. They stared at each other for a moment. "You're usually doin' this for me."
"When you let me."
Cal turned her head again and washed the side of her cheek, around her ear and some of the blood from her hair. He kept well clear of her wound. He asked if she was meant to cover it up and she said no, she didn't think so. He offered her tea and they moved into the living room to sit quietly while they drank hot beverages. Gillian thanked him and sat on the couch and Cal chose to sit next to her. Right next to her.
"Sometimes I think I should let you more often."
"You know," Gillian kept her voice light, conversational. "I'd like that."
Cal gave her a wry grin through sleepy eyes. "Stay ova."
Gillian took a deep breath to let him down gently.
"Probably shouldn't be alone. Might not wake up in the mornin'."
"The paramedic said I'd be fine."
"What if I want you to stay? For me."
Gillian looked him square in those dark eyes of his. "All you have to do is ask me."
"Will you stay ova?"
"Ok," Gillian agreed gently. She sipped her tea, a good excuse to look away.
"Gill?"
"Yes Cal?"
"Are you proud of me?"
"Of course I am."
"Sometimes I wonda."
Gillian felt her heart beat funny. She gave him a very serious expression, even placed her hand on his thigh. "Of course I am," she said with conviction. "I'm proud of what you did for Ria today. Not that I enjoy seeing you come out in bruises." She resisted the urge to touch his face, because he would only just duck away from her and that hurt her more than she should let it.
"I know I let you down sometimes."
She didn't look at him, "I have high expectations."
"I want to be a betta man. I'm afraid of bein' my fartha."
She looked at him, "You're not like your father at all Cal. I can say that without a hint of doubt and I never knew him."
Cal gave a nod. "Thank you." He reached up a hand and curled a section of her hair behind her ear. His fingers curled around her jaw and then glanced over her eye again. "Gill?"
"Yes Cal," she responded patiently, figuring there was something on his mind.
"One day... will we?" He watched her. "You know." Gillian stared, barely breathing. "Will we tell each otha how we feel?"
Gillian felt hot and cold at the same time. "I don't know."
"Could you find it within yourself?"
He was trying, he really was, but he was still talking in half sentences.
"Cos I know you need more from me."
There was so much more he wasn't saying.
"What brought all this on?" Gillian cut in.
He gave a shrug. "Been on my mind recently."
She gave a slight nod. She knew what he was talking about but she wasn't even close to understanding what he was saying.
"I'm workin' on it."
She gave another nod. She suspected. They would never have had a conversation like this a few weeks ago.
He looked her clearly in the eyes, the colour of his somehow lightening as she watched into a pale blue that shone like silver. "I want you to know, that I'm workin' on it."
She gave another little nod, barely able to move. There was no way she could form words right now.
"Will you wait for me?"
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