April 14th, 1984
Cal stumbled quietly through the darkness into the kitchen, without bothering with a light. The moon through the window above the sink gave just enough light for him to find the cabinet that held the glasses. His hands shook slightly as he took down a glass, closed the cabinet, and opened the bottle he had pulled out of his bags. The one he hadn't told Alyse was there.
He only filled the glass half way. It shouldn't take more than that. He just needed to soothe his nerves. The nightmares were nothing new. He'd had them after Aerugo. He'd had them after Drachma. Why should this war be any different?
He sipped slowly, letting the whisky burn through him, bringing warmth to a body chilled from the horrors and night-sweats.
The light above the stove came on suddenly.
Startled, Cal turned to find Elicia standing in the kitchen doorway in her nightgown and soft, green house robe, her hand over the light switch. "Elicia I-" But he was at a loss for what to say. He felt a twinge of guilt, then annoyance at feeling guilty.
The look on her face troubled him more for the sympathetic understanding he saw there. If Alyse had caught him, there would have been anger. "Couldn't sleep?" Elicia asked calmly as she moved into the kitchen towards the stove. "Me neither."
She didn't ask, but Cal still found in himself the urge to explain. "I just needed a - something to help me sleep."
Elicia just nodded and put on the tea kettle. "You don't have to explain to me, Cal. I understand what you're going through."
He knew as much, though Cal hadn't thought about it. "I'll be fine," he replied. "They come after every war."
"The nightmares are horrid," Elicia agreed as she turned back towards him and met his gaze evenly. "But that's not what I'm worried about. I'm talking about the guilt that's eating you up inside."
She's struck straight to the heart of his pain. "I should have been here," Cal admitted softly.
"You were where you were needed," Elicia contradicted him. "You followed orders, and you did so commendably. You couldn't have known what would happen here, Cal. After Drachma, Al and I dealt with almost the same thing."
Was she really going to - she was. Cal held his breath. He had never heard Elicia speak of what had happened to her all those years ago. He didn't dare speak.
She went on. "Tamirov humiliated and violated me down to my soul. He nearly broke my spirit. Afterwards, Alphonse blamed himself for not getting there in time. I couldn't convince him that it wasn't his fault any more than it was my fault. It took me a long time to accept that my being unable to stop Tamirov did not make it my fault either. Even as I healed, Al never got over what happened. When we went to war with Drachma, he was obsessed with defeating Tamirov. Not just overall, but himself. He did, as you know, manage the deed himself, but it didn't heal him. That took longer."
The kettle began to whistle, and she turned back to it, taking down two tea cups, and filling both.
"What did it?" Cal asked as she added sugar and cream to both.
"Time, and us," Elicia responded as she turned around, setting one cup next to him on the counter. She sipped the other. "We had to work it out together, because we're stronger together."
He understood what she was saying, but Cal wasn't sure he could add his burdens to Alyse's. She had been through her own ordeal.
Elicia was apparently a mind reader. "My daughter is not broken, Cal. She's not fragile. Alyse is healing just fine, and while it takes time, she hasn't been traumatized by what happened. She will recover, but I know she doesn't want you to feel guilt for something that wasn't your fault either. When she told you she was doing all right, she meant it. We've had weeks to talk about what happened. You need to tell her what you're dealing with."
She was right, of course. That didn't make Cal feel any better though. He finished his whisky and set it down. "I will," he assured her. He didn't say when. The right time had not presented itself. It was hard to get Alyse alone without the kids, and there were things that needed to be said that should not be said in front of Gloria and Charlie. But when they were alone, Alyse usually fell right to sleep, and Cal didn't have the heart to tell her what he was dealing with when it would keep her from much needed rest. They weren't kids. It took them longer to heal, and even now, weeks later, she was still in a cast, using crutches to get around, though Ethan had assured Cal that no lasting damage had been done to her lungs and treatments had been successful.
Elicia seemed to understand all that he didn't say. "Don't wait too long. Try this," she held up the other cup of tea. "It will help you sleep."
Cal didn't ask what kind of tea it was, but since Elicia was drinking a cup of the same, he trusted that it would probably work and was something mild. "Thanks." He picked up the cup and sniffed it before taking a sip of the steaming liquid. The flavor was sweet, creamy, and herbal.
She laid a hand gently on his upper arm for a moment. "You need to take care of yourself too, if you're going to insist on taking care of everyone else. Now, get some sleep." She rinsed her empty cup in the sink, and left the room.
Cal resisted the urge to add whisky to the tea. He just hoped it really did help with bad memories. His nightmares were all the worse, because they weren't just dreams.
April 15th, 1984
Ian walked into the trailer just after noon, trying to fight the knot of nerves that was already rising up once again in his stomach. It was all right at times, but the closer he got to filming, or if he thought about it too much, his stomach soured again. It was a new sensation, and one he was trying very quickly to master, but it had been a couple of weeks since they started filming the picture, and even though he had started singing now, it hadn't gone away.
He changed into his costume before moving over into make-up.
Bonnie was waiting and waved him into the chair with her usual businesslike expression. "I just finished with Percy's make-up," she said, referring to the guy playing one of Ian character's band members. There were six of them. Ian, who was playing lead vocalist Nick "Sky" Masters, and thankfully did not have to play any instruments, Percy Lyon who was playing Randall "Rocky" Starr the back-up vocal and lead guitar, Mark Steddwick who was playing Fred "Frisk" Mine, the other vocalist and bass player, Shelly Stine, playing Melanie "Melody" Vine the keyboardist, and Phillip Villa playing Carl "Thunder" Crash, the drummer. Together they made up Blue Lightning.
"So save the best for last?" Ian quipped, trying to hide his nerves. He had shown up last hoping that it wouldn't give them a chance to build up again. So far, he wasn't sure it was working.
Bonnie sighed and shook her head, giving him a serious look as he sat down and she started working on his face. "What took you so long today? Normally you're the first one here."
"Just a couple of errands," Ian replied, partially telling the truth.
"Did you at least get lunch?" she asked, eyeing him as she started with conditioning and foundation. "I swear you look even thinner than usual."
"Yeah, I'm fine." As he said it, his stomach snarled audibly, rumbling unpleasantly in his gut.
"You're an even worse liar than you are a flirt, Ian."
"All right." He sighed and shrugged. "Apparently nerves make me lose my appetite."
Thankfully, she didn't laugh at him. Bonnie looked at him for several long moments. "I thought you ate less than usual the other night. Hold on." She turned away and reached into her bag, pulling out a package of mixed nuts. "Eat these."
"I feel like I'm going to vomit," Ian pointed out as she opened the package, heedless of his comment.
"Because you've got nothing on your stomach. Trust me." Bonnie held out the package. "They're protein, and unsalted. You need something and I'm not finishing your make-up and letting you on set until you do."
"Call's in less than thirty minutes."
"Then you'd better start eating, shouldn't you?" She crossed her arms under her chest and gave him a no-nonsense expression that told Ian there would be no arguing.
"All right, all right. Maybe I won't give you the present I brought you," Ian grumbled as he poured a handful of nuts into his hand and ate a couple.
"A present?" Bonnie looked startled, then suspicious. Of course, only she would be suspicious when being offered a gift.
"Well, a message really." Ian decided not to belabor the point as he pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. "Though the way you're behaving maybe I should tell Grandpa Silverman you don't want that Winter Collection design job."
Bonnie snatched the envelope out of his hand without another word and nearly tore it open. "You talked to him?" Her eyes started scanning the letter.
"I said I would, didn't I?" Ian asked, slightly disgruntled. "It just took him a while to get around to giving everything a good long look and comparing it to the current trends and where things are going and well… all that stuff he looks at when deciding what to sell. Since they have their own production line now, he figured on maybe having some of your formal pieces at the center of the collection for winter. There's always all those parties and formal occasions and holiday galas."
Her eyes stopped moving, and Bonnie had gone temporarily silent. Ian ate a couple more nuts as he watched her wide-eyed stare trace back over the words, confirming what Ian had just told her was the truth. "Oh…Ian… wow." She folded the paper slowly and put it in her pocket, then she smiled. "Thank you."
"Hey, you're the one who put together the portfolio," Ian pointed out with a chuckle. "Grandpa figures as popular as your designs are on screen, it's a safe bet that girls all over Amestris would want to have styles like their favorite characters and actresses."
"That makes sense." Bonnie picked up a brush and started on his eyes. "There's just so much to do I… how will I manage that too? Mr. Silverman wants to meet with me next week. Then I'd need to design the line, and—"
"Well you can't back out on this," Ian insisted, holding still as she worked. He didn't want to give her a reason to be mad at him. He took bites only when she took her hands away from his face to swap out products or tools. "I assured Grandpa you're a competent designer and businesswoman."
"You did?"
"You're talented, capable, and everyone loves your stuff," Ian reminded her. They'd love you in it too. Though he knew that was a lost cause. Bonnie hated drawing attention to herself, even though she was prettier than several of the girls Ian had starred with. "You said this was your dream."
"It is." She kept working, her hands steady despite the momentary lack of surety in her expression. "It's just big to finally be staring it in the face."
"Actually," Ian grinned impishly. "You're staring me in the face."
"Do you want a black eye?" Bonnie asked. "I can draw one in."
"No, that's okay," Ian assured her. "Though I should thank you."
"Me? What for?"
Ian crumpled up the empty wrapper from his nuts and managed to flick it into the trashcan without moving his face. "I'm not nearly as nervous anymore."
April 17th, 1984
Cal hated going into a serious conversation anticipating what might happen. Still, he had promised Elicia he would talk to Alyse and let her know how he felt, and he didn't feel right about lying to his mother-in-law. Nor did he want to drag things out too long. He still hadn't slept a night through, and he could tell Alyse had noticed his unease but was trying not to put pressure on him to talk about it.
Especially since he really didn't want to talk about it, which meant it was up to him to push himself to that point. Which took steeling his nerves and finding the right moment. Or, in reality, making the right moment. The house was full of people, and the only time he and Alyse were alone truly was at night in bed.
"Let's go on a date," he suggested that afternoon. "Just you and me, dinner and a movie. It could be like old times."
Alyse had given him a slightly surprised look, then smiled. "As long as you don't expect me to stroll with you down the boulevard, I think we'll be fine."
"I'll handle all the strolling," Cal promised.
So that was what they had done. They had eaten dinner at one of their favorite Cretan places, and then gone to see the latest sappy romantic comedy not aimed at teens, because Alyse had wanted to see it and it was almost out of theaters.
Afterwards he helped her hobble across the street into the little park nearby, which was as close to a romantic stroll as they were going to get, and they settled down on a
bench overlooking a fountain, the water reflecting the lights of the city, and it played and sparkled musically. Around them, the city was little more than a quiet, vibrant hum.
"This is nice," Alyse sighed contentedly, resting her head on his shoulder as Cal slid his arm around hers. "Do you remember the last time we did this?"
"This exactly, not really," Cal admitted, feeling mildly guilty. There had been a couple of brief escape weekends, but nothing so sweet and simple as a night out.
"Charlie was nine," Alyse replied. Of course, she would remember. "Mom watched Gloria and Charlie, and you and I went and saw that terrible adventure movie."
"Hey, I liked Death by Alchemy," Cal objected, more for effect than any real argument. "At least it was entertaining."
"What did you think of Romance in Roma?" Alyse asked, referring to the movie they had just watched, which took place in a romantic little Cretan port town. The leads had been an Amestrian tourist and a local guy with a mysterious past.
"To be honest," Cal grinned, "I was too busy looking at you to pay much attention."
"Oh really?" Alyse looked partially annoyed, but pleased at the same time.
"For at least part of the movie. It wasn't too bad, honestly," Cal admitted. He had paid attention. The writing was pretty good and the acting better-than-decent. It hadn't been too obvious even if it was a romance. "Though the lead doesn't hold a candle to you." He leaned over to kiss her-
-only to jump slightly as a car started suddenly nearby, and backfired.
Alyse's eyes immediately filled with concern. "Cal, are you all right?"
His muscles were tense from toe to neck, and he knew she had felt the sudden jerk of his body. He could try and say it was nothing, but she wouldn't believe him. Besides, he was done with lies. They wouldn't actually save either of them any pain. "Jumpy," he admitted, forcing himself to unlock and loosen his grip, particularly on her shoulders. It didn't stop his fingers from trembling. Damn it. "I'm sorry." He sat back, feeling stricken as he sat back, letting her go completely. The mood was gone.
Alyse's hands came up, and wrapped around both of his. "Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong." There was understanding in her eyes. "I should know better by now."
"And I hate that you do," Cal admitted. "I hate when I feel this way, and I hate… that I wasn't here to take care of you," it just spilled out. No set up, no careful segue. There it was. "I should have been here to protect you. I know, it's stupid. I know my being here probably wouldn't have actually changed anything here… but it would have in Xing. All the logic in my head doesn't make a damned bit of difference right now." His voice almost cracked from the emotion; something it hadn't done in years. "When Ethan sent me a message…gods… it was days before I knew if you'd lived or not. All I could imagine was what it would be like if you were dead. I… I couldn't have lived with myself."
"Cal." Alyse's hand came up to his cheek, slightly ruff with end-of-the-day bits of whisker. "I know. Every time you go away, I worry. Then I'd yell at you for coming back banged up, or bloody, but this time all I could think about was how much right you had to yell at me for the same thing…and you haven't. This wasn't your fault," her voice had fallen into a soft, caressing near-whisper. "And you're here now, and you're wonderful, and that's all that matters."
"Wonderful," he repeated the word, though he had trouble believing it, even knowing she meant it. "I can't sleep, 'Lyse," he admitted, looking into her eyes when he wanted to look away. "I can barely close my eyes for a moment, and it's all back. It hasn't been this bad since Drachma." Nearly twenty years had passed since then. He had thought the worst of his nightmares behind him. "I didn't want you to worry but…"
"But it's better when we talk," Alyse nodded, with a gentle smile. "Thank you for that. Is there anything I can do? Is there anything that will help?"
Nothing I can say to you. "Just be with me," Cal replied to her first question, avoiding the latter. "You're here, with me. I can see you, and feel you, and I know you're safe. Eventually, I think the rest of me will catch up with the logical part of my brain."
"There's very little in your brain that's logical, Calvin." Alyse caressed his cheek. "Even your logic is based in your emotions."
He couldn't fault her there; not when it came to many of the decisions in his life. It was only in his work where he could usually make that distinction. "I did marry you," he replied. "I still wonder how I won you over sometimes, but I'm the luckiest man in the world for it." He wrapped his arms around her again, letting her presence steady him. He tried to will his nerves to ease, his trembling to stop. Slowly… very slowly, he felt himself relaxing again. "Well," he finally managed a hesitant smile. "Now that we've had that talk…can we think of something else now?" He ran his fingers through her hair. "Something more pleasantly distracting?"
Alyse gave him a knowing smile, before replying impishly. "Well, we could go for ice cream."
"And after ice cream?"
"I'm sure we'll come up with something."
April 20th, 1984
"Isn't he amazing?" Minxia asked Thrakos as she sat cross-legged on the floor of her cousin's rooms in the palace, cradling Tao and Peina's newborn son in her arms. It didn't matter that she was the sixth person in line to hold him –after his parents, his grandparents, and his great-grandmother Mei- he was absolutely adorable, and he was quite happily asleep in her arms.
"I'm pretty sure all babies are supposed to qualify as amazing," Thrakos chuckled. He was sitting beside her, though clearly not nearly as comfortable with floor-sitting as she was, even after months in Xing.
"Yeah, but the ones we're related to are always cuter," Minxia commented thoughtfully. Her brother and sister had been cute. All of her cousins' kids –the ones who had them so far- were adorable. "Especially if they're well behaved."
"He's not old enough to be trouble," Thrakos pointed out.
"Boys are never too young to be trouble…or too old," Minxia said, eyeing him. "I have it on very good authority that when we were in high school half of Creta compared you to your Uncle more than your father."
"Except that I didn't have over two dozen girlfriends," Thrakos countered, grinning daringly.
"No, you had one." Minxia would have poked him in the ribs, but her arms were full of infant. "And that's exactly the way it should be."
"I couldn't agree more," he replied, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He looked down at baby Bao, named after his ancestor of the same name. "Just please tell me you don't want one of your own yet."
Minxia snorted softly. "Are you kidding? All of my work for the past two years would be practically worthless if I couldn't finish my research. It's bad enough they finished the dig without us." Even with a war on, some things continued. Archaeology was one of them.
"But they did send you a very nice report of the rest of the findings, and are shipping your relics back to Pylos for you," Thrakos reminded her with a patient smile. "And you'd better not be planning on running off somewhere else before we finish with wedding plans. I am not planning a wedding without your input."
"Why not?" Minxia teased. "You know far more about what needs to go into a formal wedding of the son of the Cretan President than I would."
"You're the bride," Thrakos snickered. "I'm pretty sure you will be expected to have preferences on the subject."
"Well, that's true." Minxia sighed. She was looking forward to marrying Thrakos, but there was no way it wasn't going to turn into a big international event. Not with Thrakos' family, and her own family – both sides of it – in attendance. "We're really going to be using the old palace?"
"Mom's already reserved it," Thrakos grinned. "It'll be great, Minx. The place doesn't even need decorating, you've seen it."
She certainly had. It was one of those glorious old buildings that Minxia positively drooled over. It was full of history and artifacts and beautiful old Cretan architecture. "I'm not sure I'm glamorous enough for a palace."
"That's bull and you know it." Thrakos kissed her cheek. "You'll be the most exotic bride the palace has ever seen…and the most lovely."
"And Xingese-Amestrian-Cretan babies will be the most adorable yet, I'm sure."
"Mom!" Minxia looked up at her mother, who had joined them.
"Not that I'd be biased," Ren teased as she bent down to take the baby. "Peina's ready to feed him."
Minxia let go of her littlest cousin with an odd tug of reluctance. While she thought babies were cute, she'd never been the babysitting type as a child. She'd always been too busy playing in the dirt. The fact that she even found the idea of a child in the future possibly attractive made her wonder just how badly Thrakos had messed with her mind already just by proposing.
Thrakos helped Minxia to her feet as her mother left the room with the baby. "So what do you plan on wearing to the wedding."
"I have no idea," Minxia admitted. "When we get to Creta, I'm going to have to go shopping."
"We'll call Angelique," Thrakos suggested.
"Oh goodness," Minxia shook her head, thinking of her friend. "She'll have me dragged into and out of every dress shop in Creta!"
"Which means you'll be sure to find something." Thrakos kissed her again, more properly now that they were face to face. "Mind you, I think you'd look great in anything – or nothing – but that might cause even more of a scandal than anything Uncle Ziro ever did."
"I'm not opposed to a little scandal."
"I should hope not," Thrakos chuckled, his grasp around her waist tightening. "Half of Creta already thinks we've been having a torridly scandalous romance for at least six years."
"Haven't we?" Minxia teased.
"I'm pretty sure it doesn't count until I get you in bed and you have your way with me."
Minxia blinked. "Don't you mean-"
"Nope," Thrakos cut her off. "I know you, Minx. You're opinionated, passionate, stubborn, and you've got a very clear idea of what you want and how to get it done." He grinned and whispered, "I look forward to seeing what that means when I finally get you all to myself, no inhibitions, no limits… just you and me, in that private little beach house."
"You'll have to wait a little longer, my love," Minxia gave him a pat on the cheek, and smiled. "We still have to get back to Creta, plan this wedding, and survive it."
Thrakos shook his head in amusement, but he smiled. "What's going to go wrong?"
"Oh, something will," Minxia assured him. "That's how these things work. You can ask my aunt Alyse. She's planned hundreds of weddings. She said it's if something unplanned happens, just what, and that as long as we both make it to the altar, say our vows, and don't have to kill any relatives, it's a good wedding."
"So much for the ancient blood sacrifice," Thrakos chuckled.
"Yeah, we're going to have to leave that part out."