The bottle-neck twisted in his paw, rolling between the pads of it. The tips of his claws scratched the glass with a shrill whine. He wasn't entirely there, having alcohol taken him over the deep end and drowned him in its intoxication. He'd been like that for days, loathing in self-pity and barren misgivings. If there was any avenue for his depression to take, he couldn't see it through the haze. He couldn't even see strait. Slowly, the door of his bedroom creaked open, letting in a harsh blast of light from hallway. In his doorway, a figure stood and stared at his aloof posture. It shook its head and walked over to the lamp at his bedside. He picked up a match from the table and lit the lamp which caused the drunk to clench his crystal irises shut. "Frederick," came the worn voice of a male Ursian. Freddy opened one eye, trying his ability to focus on details. He could see the graying fur on the male's muzzle which nearly matched his eyes. The Ursian grabbed Freddy by his paw, the one hold the half-empty liquor bottle, and yanked him to the floor. It was just enough to wake him slightly. He stumbled to his feet and clutched his temple before sitting up against the bed.

"'ey, dad... Still as abusive s'ever," the younger bear slurred, digging his claws into the side of his head. "What're you doing here?" The older male grunted, picking up an empty bottle from the floor surrounding Freddy's bed.

"Seeing if my lame-ass son is finished with his self-loathing, but it seems you're far from it!" He threw the bottle to the floor, smashing it into thousands of shards, some of which dug into Freddy's arm and side. He didn't care. He could hardly feel it. "Do you know how selfish you're being right now? Thinking you're the only one who loved her? You know what? I would have loved to have my son with me at her funeral. I would have loved to have you with me at her grave. I would have loved to have you with me for the past week when I was alone and having to sleep in an empty bed for the first time in over twenty years. I would have loved some loving words, some caring reassurance, and more than anything, I would have loved to be able to help you through this, too. Yet, all that seems too much for you to give. You can't look away from your own sorrow for two seconds to worry about the family you still have left!" Freddy kicked a bottle aside, glaring at the older bear with his crystal eyes.

"I dunno if you've noticed, but I like t'be alone. We all grieve in our own ways." Gerard kicked a bottle across the room, smashing it against a wall. He grabbed hold of Freddy's paw and yanked him to his feet.

"Come on."

"Where're you attempting t'take me?"

"Just listen to me for once in your worthless life, will you?" Gerard yanked again and this time his son followed, stumbling a little down the stairs before making it to the door. When it opened, harsh sunlight bore down on him like a demon, burning his fur and eyes. He shielded what he could with his free paw, the other being pulled by his father down the sidewalk along where his home sat. Once his eyes had adjusted, he began to slowly take in the normal look of the city. The streets were made of cobble-stone and oil lamps lined the curbs. Store fronts built from stone rose from the cold streets to a copper roof. The windows were of diamond designs, held together by metal strips. Each door was old and wooden with black steel accents such as door hinges and smaller windows. Gerard pulled Freddy a long ways down the street, onto another around a corner before turning into a cafe tucked snugly between a boutique and flower shop. The plants being sold right outside said flower shop were vibrant blue, dotted with darker blue spots. Freddy recognized them and highly despised them at the moment. He remembered his mother always keeping them around the house, often in the bedrooms or dining room. They were her favorite. Gerard pulled him into the cafe and sat him down at a booth before sitting in front of him and waiting for the waitress to finish clearing a near-by table. "We'll get you some water and coffee then talk, okay?" Freddy clutched his head.

"Talk about what?" he inquired, trying to articulate more clearly. Gerard snorted at him.

"Your mother. You're avoiding it. You're avoiding people in general because almost everyone in town knew her and you don't want to hear about it. You're running from the fact that she's gone, Frederick, and that's not healthy." The waitress, a young, yellow-feathered hen, finally returned, looking at Freddy with some surprise. She wore a white dress covered in strange little squares and lines that resembled confetti. The feathers atop her head were combed over to one side like a wave.

"Freddy. I haven't seen you in days. How are you?" She asked.

"Hey, Chica... I'm fine..." he breathed, avoiding eye contact. The Hen looked over to Gerard with populous droves of sympathy.

"I'm sorry to hear about Gaia. We're all going to miss her."

"Can we just get some coffee," Freddy broke in, not allowing his father to respond. Chica nodded and turned back to the kitchen. Gerard eyed his son angerly.

"Watch your tongue, cub," he growled, "However bad you think this is for you, it gives you no right to behave so rudely, especially towards your friends." Freddy only huffed, resting his head against a fist as he looked through the window. The sky was clear, not a cloud dotting its canvas. The sun moved slowly along in the morning light, casting away the shadows among street corners and alley ways as though they were cut-throats at the swords end of a Galleon Master. "Must you make this so difficult?" asked Gerard, pulling Freddy from his thoughts. His voice was calmer, quieter and urging. It was almost pleading. For what, Freddy wasn't sure. "I know what she meant to you, and I know I wasn't always there, but, Freddy, I still love you. You're my son. I can't come close to the bond you and her had, but I, at the least, want to help you get over this."

"You don't get over losing someone you love. You just get used to them not being there..." Silence engulfed them. Gerard didn't really know what to think of his son at the moment. The cub was shifting in mood faster than a pregnant female.

"Okay, guys, here's your coffee." Chica had returned with two metal cups, setting one down in front of each bear. She also set a bowl of sugar in the middle of the table with a flask of cream. "You need anything else?"

"Maybe some water for moron here? He's going to have a terrible hangover later." Chica put down her serving tray, eyeing Freddy with her pink irises.

"Drinking again? Seriously? You said you stopped months ago!"

"Old habits come back with a vengeance." The hen sighed, picking up her tray and walking back to the kitchen. She returned moments later with another metal cup, setting it down gruffly in front of him. Some of the liquid splashed onto his muzzle, causing him to lick it off after she'd left. "Bitch," Freddy grumbled. Gerard leaned over the table and popped Freddy's muzzle hard with his paw, dragging a claw over his cheek.

"You don't talk about women that way. I raised you better. You're not one of those using bastards. She cares about you and you'd be wise to hold people like that close on this long road you're going down." Gerard took a sip of his coffee. "Also, she's going to be your new co-worker."

"What?"

"You're taking up a job here. No arguments. It'll help you take your mind off things."

"Dad-"

"No. Arguments."

"But-"

"Frederick."

"I'm twenty years old. I can-"

"Get a job and stop relying on me to pay your bills every month. You need this for more than just therapy. Now, Drink your water and coffee and we'll go see Scott about that job."