December 21st, 1996

The weather was crisp and cold, but Alyse didn't mind. Bundled in her warmest wool coat, reveling in the bright blue sky above the browns of Central in winter, it was a beautiful day to finish the pre-holiday shopping. Besides which, winter was not entirely without color. Evergreens in the parks added splashes of green, and the downtown shopping areas were draped in lights and festive displays.

Besides which, if she wanted to shop for Cal in secret, this was the last day to do it easily. While the rugby season had officially ended, that did not keep the team from meeting socially, or having regular workouts, through the winter months. So, while Cal was hanging out with his teammates, she could shop downtown with him none the wiser.

Sometimes it was nice to shop alone. Alyse did not have to keep to anyone else's schedule, or stop where she did not want to, or wait for anyone. So it was a very productive trip, picking up gifts for her husband, and a few additional items for her children, her daughter-in-law and grandchildren. She had shopped early for Gloria, Alexei, and Viola, and sent those gifts back to North City with her daughter's family. It would be a quiet holiday, but that was fine with her. Charlie and Shelby would host them for dinner.

Alyse was just about done by mid-afternoon. She had just stepped out of the men's shop where she had picked up a new bottle of Cal's favorite after-shave, when she realized she was passing the restaurant where she knew the team had started hanging out on Saturdays after their workouts. Alyse had never been in there. As much as she had hung out and watched his practices for the past few years, ever since the attack, Cal seemed more relaxed if she wasn't always there, and that was fine. She would watch again in the spring when they were back outside, and she was glad he was feeling confident in his independence and ability to get around without her driving him everywhere. He could catch rides with friends, or even take himself on the bus, even in his chair. He seemed much better lately, especially now that they did not have to worry about being constantly attacked. They no longer had constant security following them around, and that felt nice too.

Alyse paused outside, glancing in the windows, and considering if she wanted to stop in and just say hello.

Through the glass, she could see the team—they were hard to miss—gathered in an area that looked almost like a living room, with a roaring fireplace on an exterior corner that she thought must be gas and controlled. No one downtown would allow an old-fashioned fireplace in a modern multi-story structure. Still, it looked pleasant, and they were all talking and laughing. Some of them were playing cards.

It only took a minute to find Cal in the group. He was at the cards table—not a surprise—and he seemed to be doing well based on the pile of winnings. Not that they ever gambled for high stakes, being teammates. Alyse knew there was a limit on bets, to keep it friendly. Loose change or covering a meal was about the extent of it, so she didn't mind. Besides which, Cal rarely came out owing anything. He was very good.

At the moment, it looked like they were just starting a new round. One of the guys was shuffling, and laughing at something Cal had said. Cal replied, grinning, and picked up the clear glass mug beside him, taking a drink.

For just a moment, Alyse felt frozen. The liquid was an amber gold, with a solid head of foam. Please let that be sarsaparilla. Though it looked like whatever was in the other glasses on the table. She watched her husband set down his drink, and turn back to the game.

He looked so happy and relaxed, but all Alyse could feel was a twisting pain inside, and a flutter of panic. She stood there, watching them play, watching him finish the mug, and order another. The server took the glass back to the bartender, who confirmed her fears… filling it from the tap.

Alyse turned away, and hurried down the street. Cal had never looked up at the window. He hadn't seen her.

It was hard to navigate the streets with eyes blurred by tears.

Cal had the feeling something was up the moment he turned around from closing the door, and entered the living room when he arrived home that evening.

Alyse sat on the couch, looking serious, with that kind of face that said there was bad news. She looked like she might have been crying earlier.

"'Lyse, honey, is something wrong?" he asked, crossing the room in his chair, immediately concerned. Was it one of the kids? Or maybe Alphonse.

Alyse worried her bottom lip with her teeth slightly, the way she did when she was nervous. Cal couldn't remember the last time he had seen her do it. "I was hoping you could tell me," She replied quietly.

Cal stopped, still a few feet away. "What are you talking about? Everything's fine." At least so far as he knew.

Alyse gave him a dirty look. "Please tell me that what I saw today isn't what I thought I saw."

"Sweetheart. I have no…" but the words died in his mouth as an unpleasant realization hit him. "You were downtown."

"Doing the shopping." Alyse nodded stiffly.

Obviously, she had walked right by the pub where he had gone with the team to hang out and chat after weight training. "You knew we've all been hanging out after practice. That's just where we were today," Cal replied, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "We've just been gabbing, playing pool and cards. Nothing major."

"And…that wasn't beer in your glass?" One slender eyebrow arched skeptically.

Cal silently cursed the place for its large, clear glass mugs. Alyse was too perceptive. She noticed everything. Damn it… "'Lyse I…." he wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. It would be a lie. "Yes, it was."

Anger he could have handled. Yelling. Anything but the look of profound disappointment, and the tears that broke from the corners of her eyes. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since we got out of the hospital," Cal admitted quietly. Since his team had offered him a simple thank you. It was the best he'd felt in months.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

That I failed? That I lied and went back to it because it was easier? That I feel more like myself this way? How could he have ever said those things?

The guilt must have shown, somehow, because the tears came faster as if he had said those words out loud. Alyse didn't try to stop them. "You can't do this."

Her expression stabbed at his heart. "'Lyse…I tried. You know I did. But… I can't."

She went very still. "Can't?"

"I did try and…I managed…barely. Then, when we were in the hospital, and I didn't know if you were going to live, or if part of your mind might be gone. It hurt. The waiting…. Gods, the only thing keeping me sober was the fact I was stuck in that bed. It was overwhelming…. At least before it was easier to manage. I thought, just doing what we did before… was better."

"So… you decided this without even a word to me." There was a note of betrayal there, and he couldn't say he blamed her. Alyse had been so supportive, so loving… doing her best to help him. He'd made it five months before the attack, only with her constant support.

"I didn't want to hurt you."

"You've been lying to me. For months, apparently. How does that not hurt me?"

"It's just a couple of beers, once a week." How could she possibly understand? "It's not like I'm drinking every day. I'm not even getting drunk. Just… relaxing a little."

"But you can't quit?" Alyse finally pulled a tissue from a nearby box and dabbed at her face. Now there was a bit of anger in her voice. "Just a couple of beers, that you somehow can't do without?"

I know how bad that sounds. Cal cringed. "I'm sorry."

A slow realization seemed to come over Alyse. She looked at him sharply. "You never told your team, did you?"

"What do you mean?"

"That you were quitting."

"Well… no. I guess I didn't." He hadn't ever really thought it something they needed to know about. He didn't want their pity, or to feel like the odd man out.

"Did you really try?"

Given the evidence, Cal wished he could refute that as a baseless accusation. Still, it stung to have her even ask. It had been years since she'd questioned him like that. Of course, it had been a long time since he'd kept something from her that he had known would make her mad. "I did. And… maybe I'll try again, at some point… when I can." If he could find the courage. If life would stop throwing shit at him.

"No." There was a firm resolution in his wife's tone, the voice she used as a mother, when she wasn't giving her children an option. It was a command, not a suggestion. "You will start again now. What you're doing isn't going to fix things. It's going to keep pulling you back in. You're not solving the problem like this." The last bit was almost pleading, despite the hardness in the tone.

"Damn it, I know that!" Cal hadn't meant to shout, but the last thing he wanted was to hear what he already knew. He didn't want lectures. "I should never have told you about that stupid dream."

If it was possible to hurt her more in that moment, Cal had apparently found out how to do so. Alyse stared at him with as shocked and hurt an expression as if he had physically hit her. "We should have had this conversation years ago, Calvin. Maybe it would have been easier on you. Maybe…we'd be past this."

"What good would it have done?" Cal asked, in all seriousness. "This is me, who I've always been… since before I left home. By the time you met me… well, I am who I am… and what I am. You've insisted for years that you understand what that means. Maybe this is something it's too late to change and…and you'll just have to accept that."

"Accept you giving up? I could never do that." Alyse shook her head, and stood up from the couch. "I will not accept it, and I'm not going to let you go on like this."

That was his wife all right. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"First, by making you tell your team captain. If you won't, I will."

Cal could only stare at her for a moment as his blood went cold. What would he say? What would any of the team say? There were no conditions on a player's personal habits. It was an amateur league. As long as you showed up sober and able to play, your business was your business, and a lot of them were veterans like he was, and often their handicaps came from injuries received in the line of duty. He had never said anything, because he liked having one group of people where he didn't have to. They all just kind of got each other in a way.

But would that change, if they found out he'd been lying to his wife about what they were doing after practice? Or at least, his part in it. The whole team was quite fond of Alyse, as much as she had brought snacks, and showed up to cheer them all on. Would he break the trust and friendships he had made there too? Or would they understand? Would they sympathize? He couldn't know.

"Please… don't. I'll tell them." At least that he was quitting now. He didn't think he could tell them he'd already tried once, months ago.

"Does anyone else know?" Alyse asked.

"No." At least he could say that honestly. He hadn't told a soul. Not family, not friends. No one. And what does that say about me, really? "No one else would have kept quiet." Cal was, honestly, still a little surprised that Charlie hadn't said a thing about Cal's desperate requests in the hospital. Or Ethan… but neither of them had apparently ever said anything about those moments to Alyse, and for that, he was grateful.

Apparently, his phrasing wasn't what Alyse wanted to hear either. "No one else would have been that foolish, or kept it from me, you mean. I… I'm having trouble with this," she admitted. "I thought we were past this kind of thing, Calvin. Lying, to all of us? To yourself? Drinking… telling yourself that you can manage this? You've told me for years that you were afraid of turning into your father. What do you think his rationalization was?"

After years of telling him he wasn't his father, to have that card turned face-up was a mental slap to the face. His old man's rationalization? His reasons? Cal didn't know. He'd never asked. He'd spent all of his early teen years fighting with the man, half the time not even really understanding why he was so mad, and why his old man was always mad. But he'd never tried to understand him. The man was a drunk, and he was an angry one who shouted at his wife and son. He hit people if he was mad enough. Though it had gotten worse after Cal's stupidity over Valeria.

I was provoking him, then. I did everything I could to piss him off, because I was hurting, and I hated him. I wanted him to hurt as badly as I was. Every fight he got into, every time he came home drunk himself, smelling of cigarettes… every argument had felt justified. Like he could pretend he was protecting his mother… himself. The man had been the enemy.

But Mom always insisted he loved us. That he wasn't always like that. That he was a better man once. Was it even possible that, at some point, his father had been more like him? Cal's parents had never been very forthcoming people about emotions, or family history. His old man almost never talked about his own parents, or the brother he'd lost. Had his old man had a similar relationship with his own father?

What had driven the man to alcoholism? What had made him such an angry, bitter person that even the love of a gentle, sweet woman like Violet Fischer couldn't save him? That he couldn't be open with his only child?

Cal wasn't like his old man; not as a parent. He had done everything he could—not that it had always worked—to be honest with his children, to show them affection. To be firm, but fair. To never let his frustration and anger be taken out on the people who mattered most to him. As far as his children insisted, he had been a good father. Gloria and Charlie loved him, and in that at least, he didn't feel like a failure.

But his own defiance in the face of his old man had been haunting him down the years ever since. It had taken years to kick smoking as a habit. It had been a gradual process, but it had been something he didn't mind giving up… not for his kids, not for Alyse. Not when he had people to live for, and he didn't want to hurt them.

This was something else, on an entirely different level, with a hold on him he was beginning to think couldn't be broken. In his teens, in his twenties, when he hadn't planned on living to an old age, he just hadn't thought about it much. He hadn't cared or worried about it. He was a soldier, a State Alchemist, just going through life from one day to the next.

Then he'd almost died, and in the pain and loneliness of auto-mail rehabilitation, he had retreated into the only solace he had, until the brief beautiful shining light of meeting Alyse had begun to slough off the depression and pain. Duty wasn't enough anymore. He wanted more, but he hadn't dared go after it for far too long.

I drank for the pain.
I drank to forget.
I drank to deal with my emotions.
I drank to be social.
I drank to hide.
I drank to keep from getting too close.

It had been better, so much better, when Alyse had shoved her way back into his life, insisted she loved him, and wanted to be with him. He loved her back. She had brought light and love into his life that he'd never known: unconditional and gentle.

But he hadn't stopped. Oh, he drank far less with her around…and the kids. He loved them more than he had thought he could love anything. A family that was what he had always been told a family should be like, even with its ups and downs.

Not that it had been easy. Or was easy… but everything had turned out fine. It should be fine… but the idea of losing it all, any of it, his beautiful wife, his children, his grandchildren… of being alone again, terrified him to his very soul. Fights with Alyse…. Frustrations…. Things he didn't know how to deal with, needed a good stiff drink to think through. That was just… how it was. If he didn't drink much between, he'd just not worried about it. It was under control. He had a system. He was functional in most of his life… so it had been fine.

Is this what happened to my old man?

Cal realized he had no idea how long he had been sitting there, not speaking, while his thoughts crashed through his mind like stormy ocean waves. Alyse was still standing there, just watching him. It could have been a few seconds, or minutes. He hadn't answered her question. At least, not out loud. "I don't know," he admitted then. He wasn't sure what else to say. "We never… talked… about anything meaningful." Alyse had taught him how to do that, even if he was, apparently, still worse at it than he had thought.

He wasn't sure why he was shocked when she crossed the room, and bent over, enfolding him in a tight hug. He put his arms around her hesitantly, returning it.

"I love you," she whispered fiercely. "And I am not letting you give up."

Her arms were his only solace. Cal's grip tightened. "Not even if I want to?"

"Do you?"

"It's so much easier… but no, not really." Cal sighed heavily. "I love you, too."

A bit of the tension in Alyse's body eased. "Setbacks happen. That doesn't mean you haven't made progress, or that you can't do this. It will take time, and I'm here, but don't you dare lie to me again. Understood?"

For some reason, he couldn't help smiling a little. No matter how badly he bungled things, she still loved him, and for that, he could only love her more...and try again. "Yes, ma'am."

Alyse couldn't sleep. The confrontation she hadn't wanted to have with Cal that afternoon had gone better than she had expected. One point in his favor; he hadn't been drunk when he came home, even if he'd had at least the two beers she had seen. But then, if he'd been drinking weekly for two months, and coming home in a frame of mind that she hadn't noticed anything out of sorts, maybe she shouldn't have expected a blow up.

He'd been ashamed, he'd apologized, and he'd agreed to try again. Then he had been quietly amenable all night, and pretty much agreed with everything she had to say about anything: what to have for dinner, the evening activities, the schedule for family holiday activities. They had watched a movie, and then she had gone into her craft room for a while when he had gone to take a shower. They had lay down together for the night, but Cal had fallen asleep quickly, while she remained awake, watching him sleep.

Alyse was grateful that it hadn't turned into one of their epic blow-ups. Still, she hurt inside. He'd lied. He'd hidden it from her on purpose, probably because he didn't want to fight about it either. Cal hadn't wanted to disappoint her. She understood these things, but she had thought things were improving. The past couple of months, since they got out of the hospital and Arsenic had been unraveled, Cal had been more relaxed, more jovial, more himself.

Apparently, it hadn't been the progress she thought it was. Part of her worried, was Cal right? Was the version of him she had always known and understood as the happiest, best version of him, the one who only showed up when he drank? That just couldn't be right. The broken, depressed man who drowned his anxieties, sorrows, and grief in whiskey was not the same one who had been present and there for their children, for their whole family. Relaxed and smiling, or even serious and concerned, she was sure that had been the true essence of her husband: Cal at his most open and honest.

But she had never known him without it entirely. He'd been right about that. Maybe it was just a single drink in the evening to relax after work and dinner, or a night hanging out with his friends, but what if it was more than that? What if that was how he'd managed all this time? Could she honestly say she knew, for certain, for any stretch of time that he had ever been entirely without it except when he was in the hospital?

Alyse couldn't pretend she hadn't noticed. She'd always expressed her displeasure when he'd come home drunk, though many of those nights had been after they had quarreled over some thing or another. She couldn't say she was blameless in them either, though it had always made her uncomfortable, knowing when he went out to run errands, that he was hitting a bar somewhere. If we'd had it out then, would you have tried sooner? Or would I have driven you away? If she'd just added something else for them to fight about, she couldn't honestly say their marriage would have survived at the time.

She reached out, gently fondling one of the steel-and-silver curls on her husband's head. He had stopped dying it after Drachma. Alyse rather liked them. They matched his eyes now. In his sleep, tonight, Cal looked deceptively peaceful. He didn't always look that way. For all of the time they had been together, he had suffered from nightmares borne from all the difficult times in his life. While her own had not been a walk in the park, and she had her own nightmares, what Cal had gone through went layers deeper, to the very core of his being. And as much as he had told her of his past, and she watched him live more than half of his life now, Alyse knew there were parts of him she still didn't know. Cal was a private man, a proud man.

Alyse was determined to find the help Cal needed, and make sure he got it. He had waffled long enough. If he didn't find professional help, she would find it for him. The idea that he honestly expected to crumble if she passed first was not one that she could live with. It was one thing to be loved and missed. It was another to be the only thing Cal felt was holding his world together. That wasn't healthy either. We'll fix this, my love. No matter what happens, I'm not giving up on you.

December 22nd, 1996

There was something refreshing about finally being off for the holidays. Ian was looking forward to spending several days with just his family, and no work to distract him from them. There was no family exodus to Resembool this year, but he still had plans with Ted and Coran and their families, Callista, and Hrafn was still in town, though Reichart and Deanna had returned home when it was clear he was recovering well. They did have the rest of their family to take care of, and jobs to do. Grandma and Grandpa Silverman had invited them all over for a holiday meal, and Ian was looking forward to it. Despite living in Central, and Bonnie's fashion collections being sold exclusively through his grandfather's department store, they rarely had time to get together with his grandparents socially. At least, when he was available. Bonnie saw more of his grandparents than he did.

The few days Ian had been back had been a whirlwind of activity. The days started early and ended late, and there was barely a moment for himself, or for him and Bonnie. She had thawed over the Denissa thing after a couple of days, and thankfully Angie was off to some chateau in the mountains for the holidays and hadn't been around to continue being obnoxious. So at least her good mood had returned, and things wouldn't darken the festivities.

Or at least, that was the hope.

"Did you know Denissa was reassigned to the Ice Capers project?" Bonnie asked over dinner.

"Tanner didn't mention it, no." Ian shook his head. He couldn't say he was surprised, but Tanner had not kept him apprised of the investigation itself. Ice Capers was a new historical drama series being filmed in Kartos. Anyone on that assignment would be working there for the next six months. That said, it was expected to be an excellent production, so it wasn't as if she'd been demoted in some way.

Bonnie looked irritated. "Well, I've already heard from Luon that people are wondering if I had her removed, though no one seems to know why I would."

"No matter what anyone does there are rumors," Ian pointed out. "I'm sure it will all be set straight. Besides, getting to work on Ice Capers is hardly a downgrade."

"I know. I just hope it blows over quickly." Bonnie filled a spoon with mashed peas, and tried to get them into Samantha's mouth. "The fact that the main office talked to her beforehand hasn't made it look any better."

"Does the rumor mill have any idea what she's told people about the meeting?" Ian asked, almost afraid to find out.

"Apparently all she's said is that they really need her on the other project. So… nothing that should be causing this stir."

"Then it'll all be forgotten by the end of the holidays, I'm sure." Or certainly, Ian hoped. But rumors never stuck around for long, especially not with anything to cling to. "Now let's put it out of mind, forget about work and enjoy ourselves, okay?"

Bonnie nodded, and finally smiled. "I'd like that."