September 5th, 1977

"Sorry Dad, draw four," Callie grinned as she slapped down her card. "And I change the suit to clubs!"

"Not again!" Aldon groaned, though it was all in good nature as he drew four cards. He had been only two cards away from winning. But then, he had done the same thing to Callie only four rounds earlier. All was fair in love and crazy eights.

"Thanks, sis." Ted looked smug as he put down the four of clubs.

"I wasn't doing it to help you," Callie stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"No, but she might have been doing it to help me," Cassie commented with a serene smile as she set down the nine of clubs.

The phone rang. "Oh. Hold on, I'll get it." Aldon turned his cards over, set them down on the table, and went to the phone. He loved Friday evenings at home. Unless there was an emergency, Cassie would be home, he wouldn't have Mayoral duties to attend to, and the kids had all weekend to do their homework. Sometimes his parents joined them, but just as often they had other plans.

"Good evening, Elric residence," he spoke formally into the phone, hoping it wasn't something that would call him away from evening family time.

"Is this Mr. Aldon Elric?" The voice on the line was unfamiliar.

"This is he."

"I'm sorry to bother you this evening. This is Officer Tyrell, East City PD. Your son, Ian, was involved in a car accident last night."

A cold ball formed in his gut as Aldon stopped breathing for a moment. "Is he all right? What happened? Last night!"

"We had to identify everyone involved," the officer replied apologetically. "He was a passenger in a two vehicle collision. He is currently in the ICU at East City Hospital."

Alive, Ian was alive. Thank goodness. East City; that was where they'd been filming the last few scenes of his new movie. "Is he in trouble officer?"

"No, Mr. Elric," Officer Tyrell replied. "He was just the passenger. But there were two fatalities in the incident. When he's up to it, we will want him to answer a few questions for the report. If you need more information, I can give you the hospital phone number."

"Yes please." As grateful as he was Ian was alive, Aldon couldn't shake the feeling of dread tightening his shoulders. He took down the number the officer gave him and answered another couple of questions. "I'm on my way. Thank you, Officer."

When Aldon turned around, no one at the table was smiling. Clearly they had heard just enough to know that there was something wrong, and the police were involved. Callie looked scared. Aldon took a deep breath. "Ian's been in an accident," he explained simply. "He's going to be okay, but he's in the hospital. I'll be leaving on the next train to go take care of things."

"Of course." Cassie stood up, and hugged him tightly. "He's okay? You're sure?"

"The police officer assured me that Ian would be fine," Aldon replied, though the officer hadn't been as assuring as he would have liked. "I've got the hospital's phone number too. It's okay. Now, I need to call the station and find out when the soonest train to East City is leaving."

"I'll help you pack." Cassie straightened up, and used her hand to wipe a tear from one eye.

Ted and Callie came out of their stunned silence with a sudden burst of action. Callie started putting up the game. Ted stood up. "I know you're going to need the phone a while. I'll run over and tell Grandma and Grandpa."

The run would do him good. Aldon nodded. "That would be useful. Tell them they can call in about half an hour. I should be off the phone by then."

Ted didn't even grab a jacket as he darted out into the cool evening air. It wasn't dark just yet.

Aldon watched Cassie hurry upstairs then he went back to the phone. He'd call the station first, then the hospital.

September 6th, 1977

Aldon had never been so grateful for a late night, last minute express-run train ticket. It didn't matter that it was a hard bench, or that it was late enough the food car was only serving coffee and that morning's leftover donuts. He couldn't have slept anyway. The hospital hadn't given him much more information over the phone. Just Ian's room number and that he was in stable condition at the moment.

Aldon didn't like the way they said at the moment. But he hadn't argued. He didn't sleep on the train. His suitcase, hastily but expertly packed by Cassie in under an hour, was stuffed under the seat as the landscape darted by in the dark, then the blush of dawn, and on into daylight.

It was possible to subsist on coffee and donuts.

The express train made far fewer stops, and Aldon was stepping down onto the platform in East City before dinner. Impressive, he thought, given it used to be a two to three day trip.

There were plenty of taxis. Aldon hailed one and was at the hospital in under fifteen minutes.

"Mr. Elric. I'm Doctor Ardennes," a woman about his age with dark hair in a no-nonsense bun and a kind smile held out her hand when he arrived on the floor and arrived at the nurse's station desk. "We spoke last night."

"Yes, we did. How's my son?" Cassie might have hit him for the brusque attitude, but Aldon wasn't going to relax until he saw Ian for himself.

"Stable," she replied as they shook hands. "He regained consciousness this morning on his own, though he's been sleeping most of the day. He's got a mild concussion, and three broken ribs, two on the left, one on the right. There's been some straining of the back and spine. Fortunately, he was in the back seat with his seatbelt on."

"Do they know what caused the accident in the first place?" Aldon asked. The police hadn't given him much to work with and he hadn't had a chance to call them back.

The Doctor's lips pressed into a firm line. "Well, most of the passengers were drunk. The driver, however, was high."

His stomach lurched. "High?" Why would Ian have ever gotten in a car with an impaired driver? She just said all the passengers were drunk, his mind recalled unpleasantly. "So it was the driver's fault."

The Doctor nodded. "They ran a light and hit another car almost head-on at an intersection. Your son is lucky, Mr. Elric, he's one of the two people who survived the crash. Both drivers were killed on impact."

Aldon felt sick. "Two?"

"The other passenger is here. I cannot comment on his condition."

"I understand." Aldon swallowed. "I want to see Ian."

"Of course. This way." The Doctor led him down the hall and turned into a room on the left hand side of the hallway.

Aldon tried to be ready for the sight in front of him, but he still hissed sharply, an intake of breath, when he saw Ian lying in the bed. Both of his son's eyes were blackened, the rest of his skin pale save where he could see a few livid bruises. Most of his face was bruised, or cut, there were several small cuts, treated and covered, which Aldon presumed were made by shattering glass.

The rest of the injuries were hidden beneath the white sheets.

Ian's eyes opened slowly, just to slits. "Dad?" Ian blinked owlishly. "What are you doing here?"

An irrational wash of anger hit him. "That's a stupid question," Aldon replied gruffly. His son was foolish enough to get himself nearly killed, and he wondered what he was doing here. He crossed the room and sat down in the chair right by the bed on Ian's right side. "What happened?" he asked. He wanted to hear it, needed to hear it, from Ian's own mouth. What explanation could their possibly be?

Ian blinked again. Clearly, on top of being shaken, he was likely heavily medicated. "I… I'm not sure. It's fuzzy."

Aldon bit his tongue, fighting impatience. He didn't need to shout right now. That was a reflex. He was upset. He knew it.

After a moment, Ian continued. "I, well I'd had a few drinks, talks to some girls from wardrobe. We were done filming… at the wrap-up party, you know? We were getting ready to leave, an' Reggie offered to drive. Like he should. He was design…des… he was supposed to stay sober. His turn." He closed his eyes, licked dry lips, and went quiet for nearly a minute.

"On the way back to the hotel, something darted out in the street. Reggie swerved, lost control, and that's all I remember… other than a lot of screeching and pain. No one's told me anything yet."

He didn't know? "You ran a light and hit another car."

Ian's eyes opened wide and he tried to sit up, but a gasp of pain and he went limp in the bed again. One hand moved lightly over his ribs. "Oh hell…Is everyone else okay?"

Aldon sighed, and shook his head slowly. He hated being the one to tell Ian this. But there was no easy way. "The other driver's dead. Fortunately he was the only guy in the other car. It's totaled."

"What about Reggie and Gary?"

Aldon glanced up at the Doctor, who was still standing in the door. Doctor Ardennes looked sad. She shook her head on the first, then nodded towards the next room over.

"Gary's in the next room," Aldon translated, and the Doctor nodded affirmative. "He's about as beat up as you are."

That wasn't enough to pacify Ian, who now looked slightly frantic. "Reggie? Dad, what about Reggie?"

Aldon closed his eyes. He didn't want to have to tell his son this. He had only met the boy a couple of times. He'd seemed the capable, responsible type. He was one of Ian's closest friends. But… "He's dead, Ian."

No sound came out of Ian's open mouth for several seconds. When Aldon opened his eyes, there was shock and anguish on his son's face. "But…"

Aldon asked the tough question while Ian was off balance. "Did you know Reggie was high?"

That stopped Ian cold. Shock turned to horror. "No. I… I didn't know. He didn't look it. He, Reggie was sober! He wouldn't do drugs at a party. No… He… he was our designated driver! Why would he…? He couldn't have!"

Ian hadn't known. He honestly had no idea. For some selfish reason, that made Aldon feel better. Ian might be a great actor, but he wasn't a liar. "Well he was, Ian. They tested his blood, and yours, and Gary's." I know you were drunk, boy. I'm not mad at you for that, though I doubt you'd believe me. But how could you be so drunk you missed your best friend was too drugged to drive? "If it helps, they think he was dead on impact."

"How is that supposed to help?" Ian glowered at him through his slit eyes.

"He didn't suffer."

Ian's mouth worked for several seconds with nothing else coming out. Emotions flittered across his battered face so quickly it was hard to identify one before it turned into another. "Dad I… can I be alone for a minute?"

Aldon felt his heart sink. "Sure." He didn't want to argue. Not now. He didn't want to shake sense into his son. He'd been hurt enough. He was still processing what happened. Aldon stood up. "I'll be right outside." As he turned towards the door, he noticed the glisten of a tear on Ian's cheek.


The salt-sting in his eyes hurt far worse than Ian expected, but he couldn't help but feel he deserved it in his blackened, blood-shot eyes. He was fairly sure that they had some heavy painkillers in the IV in his arm, because he didn't hurt nearly as much as he expected to. Even so, he felt like he'd been pounded with meat hammers all over.

Reggie.

Why, man? Why the hell? What were you thinking?

Never in his life had it occurred to Ian that Reggie would even think of doing drugs. He wasn't even on any heavy medications or anything. He'd had no idea. They were best friends, right? Shouldn't he have noticed something wrong with his friend? But… Reggie. He'd tried to support him, to be there for him, even when his mother put down his lack of singular starring roles. Reggie had talent. He was good!

He was good.

Ian couldn't remember the last time he'd cried so hard. The sobs wracked his already pain-ridden body. He cried anyway.

He wasn't sure how long he cried, but even his agony and his conflicted, aching heart couldn't keep him from slipping back off to sleep. When he awoke again, the window on the right wall was dark.

The door opened. Ian turned his head slightly. A pretty nurse smiled and set down his dinner tray. "Doctor's orders," she smiled, "Eat everything."

"Are you going to stay and help me eat it?" Ian asked hopefully, though he winced at how croaky his voice came out.

"Not tonight. Your father's here. He said he'd help."

Ian watched her go, perhaps a moment too long.

"She was just telling the girls at the nurse's station she's got a new boyfriend."

His view was blocked as his father walked in, and sat back down. "Oh."

Aldon picked up the bowl of what Ian learned was little better than gruel; cream of wheat or some such; warm, gloppy, and with little flavor. He grimaced, but swallowed bite after bite as his father offered it to him, alternating with sips of water. Ian wanted to argue that he could feed himself, but trying to sit up sent his sides and head to screaming, blinding agony. So he put up with being spoon fed.

"Doc says you can leave in a couple of days," his father said after several minutes, when most of the food was gone. "Much as it probably hurts, you're not in any danger of keeling over."

Well that was a nice way to put it. "Not like I can go back to the set," Ian grumbled, trying to sound like it was more of an annoyance than anything else. He hadn't seen his face in a mirror yet. He hadn't asked. But he'd slowly felt it with his hands that morning, when the nurses were out of the room. Thank goodness they'd finished filming first.

"Set?" His father scowled. "You'll come home while you recover." There was no question in his tone, no offering it as an option. There was no mistaking it was an order.

On another day, Ian would have argued vociferously. Today… "You want me?" he asked, mildly surprised. However much his father wasn't saying, Ian had always been able to read his father better than most anyone, except probably his mom. Still, he knew his Dad was upset. He was wearing his emotions far more openly than he usually did in formal situations. Knowing his old man, Aldon was probably furious at him for being drunk enough to miss Reggie's being high enough to get in a wreck.

Well Ian was beating up on himself enough for both of them.

"Of course I want you home," his father looked offended, then his expression and his tone softened. "You're my son. Damn it, Ian. I was scared shitless when that officer called and told me you'd been in a wreck! You almost died last night…" he cut off, throat tight with emotion.

Ian placed one hand over his father's. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean it… like that."

"I know." His father sighed and set down the empty bowl. "And I'm sorry I've harped on you so much lately. I just…"

"This is what you wanted to keep from happening." Ian had no reason to deny it. He'd been stupid, even when he'd tried to be safe. He'd had a designated driver; one who'd never been unreliable. So was the mistake where he'd gone wrong misunderstanding his friend? Or was it being too drunk to notice? No one else had. At least, Gary hadn't. No one had stopped them on the way out.

He ought to feel angry at Reggie. Instead, all Ian felt was confusion, guilt, and pain. Reggie was dead.

"I called Urey while you were asleep," his father changed the topic after a long minute. "He's going to come by and visit when he gets out of his study session."

Just who he needed to see him like this. "What…did he say?"

"Just that he's worried about you," Aldon replied, then he smiled, the first Ian had seen him smile at all since his arrival. "I think he plans to save the clever remarks for seeing you face to face."

"Well, I might let him," Ian replied, trying to hide the sourness he felt. "For once, he'll look better than I do."


Urey arrived later than he had originally planned, thanks to delays. He was only a semester-and-a-half away from graduation, and so he spent a lot of time studying, writing papers, basically the majority of his time was spent with his nose in his books. Not at all unusual. Tonight, however, was one of the study sessions he hosted, and so he had gotten delayed helping someone work through complex equations. At least he felt sure now that Marvin would pass tomorrow's test.

When he arrived, he asked for his father, and found that he had gone to the hospital cafeteria to find food for himself. So Urey asked to be shown to Ian's room.

He was glad his father had warned him what to expect. Urey remembered the one time he'd lost his temper and hauled off and punched Ian in this face. This made that look like a tickle.

Ian was awake. "Oh come on, I don't look that bad," he quipped, though there was little energy behind the voice.

"You keep telling yourself that," Urey replied, though he smiled back. If Ian could make jokes, however weakly, he wasn't as bad off as he looked.

"I'm still cuter than whatever date you're missing to be here."

At that, Urey couldn't help a chuckle. "Nope, sorry. You're not nearly as cute. Lucky for you –and me- she's very forgiving."

Ian's face went blank a moment. "Hold on there. You're serious. Okay… spill it. Who's the girl? First date?"

Urey wondered if his ears were turning pink, but he crossed the room, his hand going for his pocket. He wasn't going to brag… no, but his brother had asked. "This is Cayla." It was hard not to shove the photo under his brother's nose, but Ian seemed as curious as Urey was eager to break the news to someone in the family. He wasn't ready to tell everyone, but Ian was different.

The picture of the petite blonde with the almost-pixie short hair and soft blue eyes was a relatively new acquisition, and he never went anywhere without it. She wore a conservative, but attractive lavender sweater in the picture.

She was cute, really cute. And even Ian acknowledged it, Urey thought, as his brother's eyes widened. "Wow, she's a hottie, Rey. And you've got a photo already. There's no way this was a first date."

"No," Urey admitted with a shake of his head. "We've been going out since the semester started, actually. She's in botany, so we have a class together."

"So my brother finally has a steady. I'm almost jealous," Ian replied, though he sounded like he might actually be. He relaxed a little and closed his eyes for a moment.

Urey watched, the flood of concerns that had filled him since his father had called ebbed and flared. "What were you thinking, Ian?"

"I wasn't," Ian replied simply. "I mean, I did but… damn it. I can't figure out what happened. I thought I knew Reggie. They tell me he was high! If you'd asked me, I'd have told you he'd never done something like that in his life. For all I know, maybe he hadn't. But I can't believe he'd have risked our lives like that… and yet it happened."

Urey hadn't seen Ian this upset in a long time. His brother sounded like he might cry at any moment, and probably had already. He tried to imagine being in Ian's position, and it wasn't pretty. "You can't be responsible for everyone, Ian," he said, aware of how odd that sounded, saying it to Ian of all people. "Maybe you missed something. Maybe he was hiding it. The what-ifs are going to drive you crazy. Heal, rest, and face them with a clear mind. Right now you definitely don't have one. I'm just glad you're alive." He bent down and gave Ian a gentler-than-usual brotherly hug. He didn't want to hurt him.

Ian returned the hug, though there wasn't much strength behind it. "Yeah, me too."