January 19th, 1986

Charlie had a feeling deep down that the world as he knew it was about to end. Still, it was the right thing to do, he supposed, to tell Shelby's parents about the status of their relationship. He refused to call it a mistake, or to apologize for what they had done. It had been a mutual choice. He loved her. She loved him. They weren't being careless, or stupid. But… they were her parents, and he and Shelby weren't eighteen.

Two-and-a-half years had never looked so long as it did as they sat in Shelby's living room on the couch, while her parents sat across from them; Shelby's father sitting in a high-backed chair. His wife was standing beside the chair. They looked slightly wary.

Charlie supposed it must have sounded odd to them-maybe alarming-when he and Shelby both wanted to talk to them at the same time.

"You wanted to talk to us?" Shelby's mother asked, in her soft pleasant voice.

Shelby glanced at Charlie, then turned to her mother and nodded. "We… thought you should know that we've been thinking about our relationship."

"Oh?" Her mother didn't look too surprised. "Have you decided something important?" Maybe she thought they were announcing that they were exclusive, or that he'd given her a promise ring, or some other general high school traditional declaration of romance.

Clearly they weren't expecting a marriage proposal. Which was good, because Charlie had already discounted that as a way out of this mess. No way either sets of parents would have approved that at age sixteen.

After a lot of discussion, Charlie and Shelby had decided this would go over best if Shelby brought up most of the sensitive points on her own so it didn't look like Charlie had talked her into it and was trying to protect her.

Shelby nodded and looked at her mother, notably not looking at her father. "We've gotten a lot closer lately."

"How much closer?" This came with a sharp, warning note from Mr. Cruse. Charlie felt his chances of survival sinking sharply. Maybe her mother hadn't caught on… but her father certainly seemed to. Charlie made himself meet the man's hard gaze evenly.

"We've been… intimate." Shelby's voice got softer. Clearly she hadn't missed the warning either.

Her mother gasped.

Her father's scowl deepened. "Are you pregnant?"

"Of course not!" Shelby's face was bright red, but she looked righteously offended more than embarrassed. Charlie felt a little thrill of pride. "Do you really think we'd be that reckless?"

"Well let's look at the situation." Her father gestured at the four of them. "I've never heard of kids admitting their sins to their parents unless they get caught or they're in trouble. So what am I supposed to think?"

Charlie's temper flared. He bit his tongue.

Shelby continued to glare at her father. "That maybe I know what I'm doing?"

"Clearly not. Was this your idea?" he was staring at Charlie now, and he finally understood what it felt like to look death in the face.

He wasn't going to say actually your daughter invited me up to her room to make-out. "It was a mutual decision."

"If you expect me to believe that—"

"It's the truth!" Shelby cut in. "Don't go blaming Charlie. I'm the one who started it."

Oh, Shels… no. He didn't want her to take the rap for this. Shelby's mother and father were both glaring at the two of them in disbelief.

What could he say that wouldn't make this situation worse? "It's true," he confirmed, trying not to sound like he was shoveling the blame elsewhere. "We're in love. What's wrong with that? We used protection." It wasn't as if they hadn't thought it through.

There was a long, deafening silence. Then Mr. Cruse spoke.

"Go home, Charles."

Charlie wanted to argue, but a glance from Shelby and his instincts told him that disobeying a statement to leave would get them in more trouble. What could he do, anyway? He'd been given an order. Instead, he gave Shelby's hand a squeeze. Letting it go was the hardest thing he had ever done. Feeling the eyes stabbing his back as he walked out, Charlie left.

He made the walk home in record time, where he paced the floor in the living room for over an hour. What was going on? Were Shelby's parents chewing her out? Was she in trouble? Was he ever going to be allowed near her again? What if they reported to the school that they wouldn't be allowed in the same classes and changed Shelby's schedule? What if they decided to make her do home school, or change districts? There were all sorts of terrible things he could imagine coming to pass. They'd be honest, they'd come clean…and the look on her parent's faces hadn't left him with any hope that they would be as understanding as his father had been.

He tried thinking positive. It was possible they were putting on a tough front to make their displeasure clear. Maybe, when they calmed down and talked it over with just Shelby, they would realize that he and Shelby weren't acting irresponsibly.

The phone rang.

Charlie ripped it off the receiver before the first ring was finished. "Hello?"

"It's me." Shelby's voice was soft, and a little hoarse, as if she'd been crying.

"Shels…babe…are you okay? What did they say?"

There was a long, heartbreaking silence. "I'm not allowed to see you again. You can't come over, and I'm not allowed over there… not even if our parents are home."

"What about the phone? School?" Charlie felt his world shattering around him.

"They said you're a corrupting influence, and after this I can't call you again." She sniffed, and he realized she was still crying. "I'm grounded until April. No after school club meetings, no dances…"

"Shelby, I'm sorry." He was so, so sorry. Hell, sorry didn't even cover it.

"I can't sit with you in class, or at lunch." Her voice was quavering. "I've never heard him so mad. Charlie he's… he's never yelled at me in my whole life."

He should be there, hugging her, comforting her… "It's not fair," he told her. "Is this…over? God,I don't want this to be the end, Shels. I love you!"

"I don't want it this way either," she assured him. "I love you, Charlie… I just don't know what we can do!" She sobbed, and he heard her blow her nose. "Daddy said he's going to tell the administration, and if we're seen together he'll make me change schools completely."

It was his worst fears recognized. "We'll find a way," he assured her. "I'll think of something, babe. I promise." He just wished he had some idea what. Mr. Cruse workedat the school.

"Be careful, Charlie," Shelby warned. "Please. I… I don't want you getting in trouble because of me. Maybe…maybe we should just do what we're told for now."

What? "Shels… what are you saying?"

"I'm sorry, Charlie. We can't be together right now."

Cal knew it had gone badly when he arrived home from the hospital to find his son face-down on the couch, his head buried in a pillow. The living room looked like a disaster…well, for a room normally kept spotless. A couch pillow had exploded all over the room, feathers scattered everywhere, and a bottle of soda was overturned on the coffee table, and had spilled, running off onto the floor and mingling with the feathers.

Miss Whiskers sat curled up on top of Charlie's back, purring manically.

It didn't take much for Cal to recognize heartbreak. He sat down on the edge of the couch, with what little space Charlie had left, and laid a hand on his son's shoulder next to the cat. "Tell me about it," he said softly.

"It's over…" Charlie's raw voice croaked out of the pillow. "If I even talk to her, Mr. Cruse will pull her out of our school and I'll never see her again…not even across the room." His muscles tightened, and his fist pounded against an already-worn spot on the couch. "It's not fair!" he rolled over enough that Cal could see a face, dry-stained with tears.

"Damn it, Dad. How do you deal with this kind of thing?" Charlie's heartbroken expression killed him. Miss Whiskers got up and jumped off the couch.

Cal felt something in him breaking too, as he realized he didn't have any really good advice. I got drunk, kid. A lot…and then I ran away from it all. "Badly," he replied honestly.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. There's no cure for heartbreak except time."

"I'm not giving up," Charlie shook his head. "I can't…I… damn it all to hell! She's still in love with me… it can't end like this. It can't…"

"Maybe it won't. In a couple of years, you'll both be eighteen. Then it won't matter what her parents want." It was hollow consolation now, Cal knew, but it might be the only hope they had, at least until Shelby's parents had time to cool off.

"I can't live that long without her."

Ah, young hormones. Cal almost offered the kid a beer. The whole thing made him want a drink. All he could do was offer some hard-earned perspective. "Remember what I said about not doing anything stupid?" Cal asked. "This would be a good time to start, if you don't. Believe me, I know how much it hurts, but if you want any chance of fixing things with Shelby, you're going to have to pull it together and not do anything rash that will make her parents hate you. Right now, they might just be upset about what happened. They might cool off. Shelby won't thank you if you make them madder…or do anything that will. I know patience is not your best suit, but you've got to hold it together, Charlie. We don't get anywhere in the world if we lie down and roll over, or run off half-cocked, when what we need to do is be patient and come up with a new plan of attack."

It wasn't comforting. It wasn't reassuring, but it did seem to have made a point.

Charlie's back muscles relaxed. "Growing up sucks."

"Now on that, I couldn't agree more."

January 20th, 1986

"You know, I don't know why everyone says wedding planning is complicated," Raina said, smiling across the dining table covered with papers and lists at Urey. "This is a lot simpler than trying to plan my school year."

Urey chuckled. "I don't suppose that has anything to do with the fact that your criteria for a wedding are quaint, country, and we say vows."

Raina chuckled. "I did also insist that you wear a suit, I get a nice dress, and our parents be there."

"There is that." Urey looked at the chaos spread in front of him, aware that while it looked like a mess, Raina had it all figured out. "I'm glad your parents were happy about it."

He and Yurian had gone with Raina when she left Central to go to South City so that they could tell her parents about the engagement in person.

"My parents think you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Lucky for you, I agree with them." Raina winked at him, then went back to marking things off the checklist in front of her. "Okay, we have a guest list. The invitations are printed, stuffed in envelopes, labeled, and mailed. Your grandparents have said we can have the wedding in their back garden. We've been to the bakery and chosen a cake."

"That was a great day," Urey grinned. Cake sampling was a thoroughly delightful way to spend two hours.

"You have a suit."

"That was not a great day."

Raina looked up from her list again and smiled at him coyly. "Then you shouldn't have decided to go shopping for a suit the day after cake tasting."

"That was probably the wrong order, yes," Urey nodded.

"At least you're irresistible in a suit."

"If I'd known that, I'd have worn a suit to see you sooner," he responded to her teasing in good nature as he looked at his half of the list. "You've got a dress, that I haven't seen yet," he added, knowing it wouldn't do any good. That surprise would wait until the big day. "We've got rings ordered at the jeweler. You chose flowers at the florist here in town…. And Granny and Mom insisted on making hors d'oeuvres."

"To which I have no objections whatsoever," Raina grinned. "All of their food is amazing."

It seemed like everything was coming together very smoothly, and Urey was grateful. "I'll take Yurian in for his suit fitting the week before," he promised her. His son would be standing with them, but he grew so fast, Urey wanted to make sure he didn't outgrow his pant-legs before then.

"Great! Mom was so excited that he'll be in the wedding."

Urey smiled. As far as Raina's parents were concerned, the fact that their new son-in-law came with an adorable already play-age grandson was a bonus, not a detractor. Her mother would probably spoil Yurian rotten if they weren't careful. "Your Dad is cleared for travel again?"

Raina nodded. "His doctor said he'll be fine, as long as he sticks to his dietary restrictions, which Mom says he hates, but he'll be there. He said he wouldn't miss giving me away for the world." There was fondness in her tone and expression. Urey knew Raina worried a lot lately about her father's health. After he'd collapsed on their visit to Resembool in October, her father's physicians had gotten very strict about his tendency to ignore everything they said. Her mother had put her foot down too.

"I'm glad." He meant it too. "I'm also glad they'll be staying with Granny and Grandpa this time around." As much as he liked her parents, he didn't want to spend their first night married with her parents in the next room. Not that they had ever told her parents that they were already sleeping together.

Raina reached for her glass of tea. "That would be awkward. Since we're getting married on Monday afternoon, we can move your things in on Saturday."

The wedding date had been reasonably planned for during the schools' spring break, which meant that Raina didn't have work, Yurian didn't have school, and more family members could make it for the ceremony. "I'll be packed and ready," Urey promised. It wasn't as if he had much to move anyway. Since he and Cayla had lived with his parents, he didn't have furniture, or dishes, or anything other than his own clothing, personal items he had kept from growing up, and his books. Yurian's room at his parents' had far more things in it than Urey owned: his bed, and matching dresser, and a little table and chair for crafts. He had plenty of clothing, children's books, and toys, some of which dated back to when Urey and his brothers had lived there; items they had outgrown but his parents had held onto. Urey was glad that Raina's little house had enough room for him and Yurian to move in. There was an entire room upstairs that was going to be Yurian's. All that Raina had kept in it was a few boxes that had never gotten unpacked. Urey had already helped her move them. The one dresser from his own old room and a bookcase would hold everything he needed to bring with him. "So, what else really needs doing?" They had spoken with the nearest local minister as soon as they got home.

Raina set her pen and her paper down and stretched, stifling a yawn. "Well, at some point we need to finish writing our vows, but right now, there's nothing critical but waiting for the rest of our guests to respond to their invitations. So, would you rather start on making dinner, or take advantage of the fact that Yurian is at Reichart and Deanna's this evening?"

"Food or you… is that even a choice?" Urey teased as he pushed back his chair and stood up. He held out a hand.

Raina smiled and took his hand. "That's up to you."

"Then you should know by now, that I love you more than food." He pulled her closer.

"Wow, then I know you really love me, because I know how much you love my cooking."

"Yep… and you're really cooking." The play on words was awful, but Urey didn't care.

Raina groaned, even though she was laughing. "Bedroom….now."

"Yes ma'am."

January 22nd, 1986

It had been a long, miserable weekend. Charlie hadn't managed to get a shred of his homework done, though he had tried-in good faith- to attempt it. Instead, he had spent most of it in bed, or lying on the couch in front of the television in a near-mummified state of depression. He did, at one point, remember his father commenting that it was a good thing Charlie was still a growing teenager, because he had eaten half the food in the house, including an entire roll of store-bought cookie dough.

Monday morning dawned bleak, cold, and rainy, which fit his mood perfectly as he schlepped out to the bus stop, got on the bus, and sat all the way at the back. Shelby took a different bus, which wasn't a blessing, given he probably could have managed to talk to her on the bus without anyone at school being the wiser. The bus was always full, and noisy, and the bus driver surely wouldn't have noticed if they just sat and talked. He was usually too busy yelling at everyone else to sit down and shut up.

He slid into his usual seat in first period homeroom feeling dead. He and Shelby didn't have the same homeroom, though his best friends, Gill and Trey did. They sat down on either side of him with worried faces. "We heard about what happened, man," Gill said, with a look that expressed absolute sympathy.

"Where did you hear?" Charlie looked at them, stunned. How could word have spread so fast?

"Shelby told Marlena on the bus," Gill shrugged, mentioning his own girlfriend. She and Shelby had been friends for years, and they all rode the same bus. "I had no idea you two were that serious."

"Yeah well, we're not now." Charlie wished they would change the subject, though he'd gotten an idea, listening to them. "Hey…Gill. Do you think, if I wrote a note to Shelby, Marlena would deliver it for me? I'm not allowed to go anywhere near her or her dad will kill me." Given Mrs. Cruse was heavily involved in volunteering with clubs, and Mr. Cruse worked at the school, he had no doubt word would get back to her parents if he so much as said hi to her. He couldn't risk even handing a note to her in the hallway or slipping it into her locker.

"Sure. Anything to help, man." Gill nodded. "I can give Marlena something at lunch."

"You've got to swear on your car you won't look at it," Charlie said firmly, and Gill's car was his most prized possession. He and Charlie had spent two years restoring it so Gill could drive it when he got his license.

"You have my word."

Charlie's stomach was in knots by the end of the day. He had written a note to Shelby right then and there, folded it, and passed it onto Gill. At lunch, Gill confirmed he had handed it off to Marlena in the line, though he came to sit with Charlie instead of with Marlena, who was sitting with Shelby on the other side of the dining hall.

"Man, you can sit with your girlfriend if you want," Charlie assured him.

"Well, she is prettier to look at," Gill grinned, "But you're my best friend. I can't leave you out in the cold. Marlie understands."

The rest of classes, like that morning, had gone by in a haze. Charlie didn't think he'd remembered more than half a dozen statements made by a teacher, and he was sure he had bombed the science quiz he had failed to study for. It was hard to get through classes when Shelby was in the room. While the teachers didn't say anything, Charlie made sure to sit somewhere else, so Shelby wouldn't have to move spots, which kept her with the rest of their friends in any class that didn't have assigned seating. In those classes, they weren't set together anyway. Some teachers made a point of keeping friends and couples separate to minimize distraction. At least, that was the excuse they gave.

Gill ran up to him as Charlie was about to get on his bus. He slapped a note in his hand. "Special delivery," he grinned. "Hope it's good." They weren't hanging out that afternoon because Gill and Marlena had a date, but Charlie didn't expect his friends to change their lives for him.

"Thanks," he replied as he got on the bus, slid all the way to the back, and pulled out the note. It wasn't signed, but it was definitely Shelby's small, neat handwriting. His original note had been brief, a simple statement that he wasn't going to give up on them, and that he loved her. He also suggested that if they lay low for a while and just communicated by note, maybe the whole thing would blow over until he thought of a way for them to spend time together again.

You're crazy, you know that? Please don't do anything foolish. Be careful what you write. Take care. I miss you.

Okay, so it wasn't the love note he'd hoped for, but it gave Charlie a little bit of hope. She hadn't said not to write her, just to be careful what he said. That was smart. Maybe he could pretend to be someone else in the notes. Or they could develop a code for what they meant that would look innocuous to other people. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

His slightly better mood evaporated when he got home. His father was there, for one thing. He was also clearly not in a great mood. "What's wrong?" Charlie asked, silently praying it had nothing to do with him and Shelby. "You're home early."

His father looked up from the stack of papers in front of him on the coffee table. "I brought work home. I just couldn't focus in the office," he admitted. "And the hospital called and wanted me to come in to discuss your mother's treatments."

"Why?" Had she gotten worse? His mother had been in the hospital for fourteen days. Suddenly his romantic issues didn't seem as important.

"They want to add another couple of weeks of treatments," his father explained. "But they also want to delay the next chemical one again since she's not over pneumonia."

"Delay?" Charlie dropped his backpack on the floor next to the couch.

"Just a few days, until she finishes the other treatment." His father leaned back, looking older and more tired than Charlie had ever seen him. Or maybe he just hadn't noticed what kind of a toll all of this was taking on his father. "She might be able to come home then." He didn't sound convinced.

Charlie sat down next to him. He didn't want to ask too many questions. It wasn't like he didn't already know the answers anyway. No, Mom wasn't coming home soon. No, the treatments weren't working fast enough. No, his father would insist, his mother wasn't going to die. But that last one, Charlie knew, wouldn't be convincing, because his father didn't believe it.

Apparently, the worst news of the evening was yet to come. "Tim Cruse called me this afternoon."

Charlie cringed. "What did he say?" Did he already know about the notes?

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Cal shrugged. "Just that you're an untrustworthy good-for-nothing without any discipline or sense of decency who shouldn't be allowed in the same building with his daughter, and I ought to feel ashamed for having failed as a parent to instill any sense of morals or responsibility in you."

It might have been the flat tone and lack of vigor behind the words that made them hurt more. Charlie knew his father didn't deserve to be told those kinds of things. "What did you say?" he finally asked.

"Well I couldn't very well tell him to go shove it," his father commented. "I told him you were suffering a punishment worse than death and couldn't possibly be sorrier for what you've done."

That was true, Charlie decided, a little impressed, even if his punishment wasn't one inflicted by his father. "What does Mom know?"

His father opened his eyes. "Not much," he replied, rubbing his temples the way he always did when he had a headache. "All I said was Shelby broke up with you and not to ask about it because you were miserable."

Also mostly the truth. "Thanks, Dad. I kind of hope Mom never finds out."

He didn't like the apologetic look on his father's face. "Charlie, she'll know the first time she makes a PTA meeting and has to be in the same room with Shelby's mom."
At which point he could kiss any kind of freedom he had goodbye. Not that it would matter, if he couldn't be around Shelby anyway. He decided not to tell his old man about the notes. It would only make things worth for his father if he knew.

With a sinking feeling, Charlie realized that there might be far more to it than that. "Dad… this isn't going to hurt your job is it?" He had never really been a model officer's son anyway, but most of his trouble growing up had been seen as hijinks, or clever pranks, or youthful exuberance. This couldn't be passed over as any of those things.
"Not unless Cruse tries to raise a stink about it, and I don't think he will," Cal shook his head. "He doesn't have the guts to take it up with President Heimler, if only because he knows we're peripherally related, and there's some of the added protection that comes from being a State Alchemist. We're not exactly expected to be the most typical soldiers in the bunch. But, yes, if he decided to push the issue, it could be."

Damn it. "Dad, I am so sorry."

"You should be." The words were harsh, but not unforgiving. "If you had just waited a couple of years, there wouldn't be anything anyone could do about it except scowl. And the only one who would have been doing that would have been her parents… and maybe your mother a little, because she's always been a nice girl and believes in doing things "the proper way.""

If Mom's alive in a couple of years. Charlie could only hope she would be. "I wish her parents were as understanding about this as you are."

"Yeah, well, we can't all be stupid old fogies." His father gave up on his papers and started putting them away. "What you did was rash, and potentially disastrous, but it isn't yet, and you haven't ruined your lives over it… like her father seems to think. There's nothing about this situation that can't possibly be repaired. Given how stressful things have been around here lately, I'm not even entirely surprised it happened. I'm not even sure what an appropriate punishment would be in this situation as a parent," he admitted. "You've already been forbidden from having anything to do with Shelby, and I can't think of a more miserable torment than that. My father beat me and yelled, and all that did was make me more determined to do everything I could to make him angrier. I was such a defiant ass." He shook his head, putting the last papers back in his files. "You're not children, but you're not adults yet either. I just hope you understand the distinction now, and you both learn from this experience."

Charlie nodded, feeling humbled. "Trust me, I don't think this is a lesson I will ever forget."

"Good." His father stood up. "I don't feel like cooking. What do you say we pick up Aerugean tacos for dinner?"

"Sure." Anything that meant he didn't have to sit down and try and look at the homework from today's lessons he had barely heard for a little longer was a good distraction.

"After that, I don't suppose you know anything about the Cretan insurrection of 1784?"

January 23rd, 1986

Being at work became more of a hassle every day. It had been bad enough while Alyse was getting her treatments and going home, where she would be sick and miserable for multiple days at a time; those stretches constantly getting longer. Now, with her in the hospital, and Charlie's life imploding in front of Cal's eyes, being at work all day seemed like torture. He got things done, but he wasn't entirely sure how. This morning was no exception as he half-heartedly looked over supply orders for the training program that were the same supply order that went in about this time every year.

Cal hadn't lied to his son, but he hadn't told him everything either. The conversation with Shelby's father had been one of the worst experiences of his life, listening to the man growl, and snarl, and insult not only his only son, but Cal's own parenting. He'd never felt like he was all that good at being a typical parent to begin with. This situation was not improving that image in his own mind either.

It also wasn't that simple. Cal was grateful Cruse wasn't military, and that he didn't think the man was going to try and press the issue beyond what he had done. The kids were both sixteen years old-if just barely- and that meant that there was no one in the country who would call it a criminal act. They were the same age, and they both insisted this had been a consensual choice. It had taken all of Cal's willpower not to blow up at Cruse, who had called him at his office just before Cal had gotten the call to go over to the hospital early. Cal had told the truth, that he had told Cruse his son was suffering a horrific punishment. Though he hadn't told Cruse he was the cause of it. Cal had also told the man that he didn't think forcing the two teenagers to be apart would work in the long run. Cornered kids were far more likely to do something foolish. He'd tried to reason with Cruse on their behalf, within the limited scope of what he could say, but it hadn't worked.

Still, what he hadn't told Charlie, was that he probably would have to warn his superior at work about the situation, in case it got unpleasant. That meant talking to Franz. He also desperately hoped that Alyse never found out about the circumstances of this break up, because the last thing she needed was the stress and agony of dealing with a social situation that was almost her worst parenting nightmare come true. Not that she would ever do what Cruse was doing, but because she would feel like somewhere, she had failed as a parent, even though Charlie had already handled this more maturely than Cal had at that age.

Cal wasn't completely convinced he was handling it correctly either, but he'd told the truth. He didn't know what an appropriate parent punishment would look like in this case. Yelling at Charlie, grounding him, what would it accomplish? It hadn't kept his son from having sex with a girl he was in love with. It wouldn't teach him a lesson. All it might do was make him more determinedly defiant.

Or depressed. Cal was more concerned with the latter. Charlie was about as close to snapping as Cal was. The strain of everything was getting to the boy; a young man with no method for compensation. He wasn't old enough to have a bad habit.

When Tore had almost lost it as a bright new rookie in the Drachman War, Cal had helped him through it by teaching him all the ways soldiers at the time had coped with it all… he'd taught him how to drink, how to smoke, and even hooked him up with his first girl.

That, however, would not qualify as responsible parenting. In hindsight, while it had gotten Tore through the war, it hadn't done him much good. Hell, none of it had done Cal much good. Coping, surviving, wasn't necessarily living, or preserving a man's sanity.

Cal didn't think he needed to ask why now, of all times, Charlie and Shelby had finally made that choice. Cal sought release and comfort the same way –and always had. Except now, when Alyse was too sick for them to do more than cuddle. He'd picked a hell of a point in his life to give up his long list of bad habits.

The best he could do was encourage Charlie to put his time in to his other pursuits: school, spending time working on cars with Gill, and give the situation time. Either Shelby's father would eventually relent, or they would turn eighteen and it wouldn't matter anymore.

The end of the work day couldn't come soon enough. The moment he could, Cal left, with a wave of acknowledgement at Tore, who reminded him that Cal and Charlie were invited over for dinner again that night.

They'd be there, if only because Cal knew it was getting dangerous for the two of them to be home alone, worrying. He swung by the house long enough to grab Charlie, and then they were on their way to the hospital.

When they arrived, Cal found Will waiting just outside Alyse's door. He had never been more grateful for the closeness of Alyse's family than the past few months. Especially the last couple of weeks. They had fallen naturally into a pattern of taking turns coming to sit with her, support her, and make sure Alyse never felt abandoned. Sometimes when he arrived, it was Alphonse, or Elicia, or even Gracia. So Cal was unsurprised to see his wife's brother. "What's going on?" he asked, wondering why Will wasn't in the room with Alyse.

Will turned and smiled at him. "Ren's with Alyse. They had an idea for an alternate alchemy treatment to help with the pneumonia. They're trying it now."

Cal refrained from asking why he hadn't been called first. This was something Alyse could decide for herself. It was her treatment. Besides, it couldn't hurt her, and the alchemical doctor who had been treating her for her cancer wasn't a specialist in all alchemical healing. This was more Ren's specialty. "Any idea how it's going?"

Will shook his head. "They've been at it for almost half an hour."

"Great. More waiting." Charlie dropped down into one of the hard seats in the hallway. He pulled out a book and started reading.

Cal hoped it was homework. Charlie hadn't been particularly forthcoming about the last couple of days of school, other than to tell him earlier he had gotten a C on his last science quiz.

The door to Alyse's room opened, and Cal promptly put his son's homework out of his head. "How is she?" he blurted out to the first person who appeared, which turned out to be Ren.

Ren motioned to him. "Come in, Cal."

He didn't like how that sounded. Nodding, he followed her into Alyse's room. Neither Will nor Charlie followed as Ren closed the door behind him.

Inside, Dr. Xinai and Dr. Martins were standing next to Alyse's bed.

Alyse was sitting up, but she looked exhausted. She didn't smile when he entered.

"All right, someone tell me what's going on." Good news or bad, Cal hated suspense.

The other three people in the room exchanged glances. That didn't bode well.

"The pneumonia is responding to treatment." Ren spoke up first. "Alyse's lungs are almost free of liquid. Another few days, and she should be past it."

"Well that's good… right?" The way they were acting, he couldn't really tell.

Dr. Xinai stepped towards him. "We can cure pneumonia, but even continuing the alchemy sessions, we can't cure the cancer."

Can't…that was a very final word. Cal swallowed, his mouth suddenly gone dry. "What do you mean you can't? I thought you wanted to do more chemical treatments."

"Cal…" Alyse's eyes were wet.

No… this can't be it.

"They won't do any good," Xinai continued. "The cancer isn't responding fast enough, and these last weeks it's starting to come back. At this point, they would be nothing but a delaying tactic."

"Well keep delaying!"

"Calvin, please… don't shout," Alyse spoke softly.

"I'm not going to let you die!"

"Cal," Ren's voice was soft, but sharp. "We're not suggesting you give up. We have another alternative."

"Oh." His fists-which he hadn't even realized he'd clenched- started to ache, and he released them. "Then what do we have to do?"

That sharing of glances again, as if they knew he wasn't going to like the answer.

Dr. Martins spoke. "I can perform a double mastectomy."

A… Blood rushed to Cal's face. His body was quivering. "You want to chop off her breasts?"

"If it means saving her life, yes," Martins replied, her voice quiet and calm. "I've explained the details to Alyse. The surgery itself is very safe. If we remove all of the cancerous tissue, she should be fine."

"But…" But what? What could he say? His world ended if Alyse died. He could only see a bleak, meaningless existence without her. "What if you miss something?"

"With alchemists involved, the chances of that are low." Ren spoke up again. "Yes, it's possible that it's too late, but right now the cancer is isolated to the breast tissue. If we wait for it to metastasize further, it will be too late."

Which meant they were running out of options, and running out of time. "When would you operate?"

"We can't move forward until she's well enough to go under anesthetic," Martins took over the conversation again, "Which means waiting until the pneumonia is gone. I won't risk it before then. So for now, we continue with alchemical session treatments for both the pneumonia and the cancer for as long as we can. Otherwise… we may have to take the risk, but we're not there yet."

The yet seemed hesitant. Cal sat down in the chair next to Alyse's bed, and put one hand on his wife's. She looked nervous, but she wasn't objecting. Clearly she had already accepted that this might be her only option. He squeezed her hand. "All right. Whatever it takes, I won't lose you."

Alyse gave him a weak smile, the one she used when she was trying to be brave. Cal knew the truth, terrified as she was, she was already one of the bravest women he'd ever known. "Hey, it's not like I need breasts to be attractive. At worst, I'll just be a little more average."

If she could be brave, so could he. "One thing you will never be, my love, is average."