The Fallen City

|Chapter XIII: The Long Journey Home

The time to shuffle on couldn't have come any sooner. Doctors and nurses wished him well with little more than a grunt in return. Gale had no interest in pleasantries nor in making friends. Not here anyway. There were passing words between them as to what had happened to him, but nothing more than idle curiosity.

Once you'd seen one weird thing you've seen them all. Gale was no different here, whatever the circumstances might've been. They might've had their questions, sure. But all of them faded away in favour of the next person when he climbed into that Mercedes.

It was the people who 'mattered' to him that still had questions to ask. Cory had tried, but she got nowhere. She was still a traitor in his books, and Alban couldn't bear the thought.

The Status quo had returned. With one solemn difference.

He too had a clock over his head now.

"I thought you liked driving?" Alban asked as his father drew a crumpled cigarette from his jacket pocket. After a bit of nursing the small white tube finally stuck straight.

"I do when I'm driving." He took his first glance out the windscreen. It was too sunny out there, he hated it. "Your lane discipline is awful."

"What do you mean? I'm in my lane!" Alban pointed at his mirror. He glanced over at his father, the man was searching desperately for a lighter. What a surprise.

"You might be but I'm in the bloody hedge." Gale grumbled as he finally lit up. Silence ensued for a minute or two, broken only by the faint rumble of the engine and the woosh of scenery whipping past. Gale flicked ash onto the floor, his mind elsewhere.

"Perhaps we should talk, what happened is quite serious." Alban, fiddled his ever present suit. He had no idea how to approach this.

"Everything is being left to you, there is nothing to talk about." Gale grumbled absently. He swore loudly and quite profusely as the car lurched to one side for a moment, and then scowled at his son with bitterness. "Are you having a bloody heart attack now? Keep your eyes on the bloody road!"

"Sorry Dad, I just..." Gale continued to watch him with that piercing glare. Suddenly a smirk covered his face.

"Thought I'd live forever did ya?"

"I always thought if the grim reaper came knocking you'd kick his shins in." Suddenly, from nowhere he'd come back...

His Dad...

"Nah, I'd set the neighbour's mastiff on him..." They looked at one another with equally subtle glances. Watching each other's smiles appear slowly before they both let out a chuckle.

Gale couldn't help but smile inwardly. This was special. He knew where his boy had gotten his hotheadedness from. Them both clashing had been spectacular... But now, Alban was right. There were more important things.

His train of thought ended sharply as he looked down, catching sight of the bottle of familiar brown liquid in his door pocket. The itch at the back of his mind came back. He thanked the stars that they were in the center of town. Alban's thoughts were elsewhere... Or at least they should be. The buzzing began.

He reached into the door pocket and subtly lifted the bottle, unscrewing it like it was an explosive. The noises began to press in.

The handbrake came on with a click. Alban muttered something about "Goddamn pedestrian crossings." He'd caught sight of a cute blonde, like any man his eyes were distracted very suddenly. His whistle was too loud and too sharp.

Gale lifted the bottle quickly. Smells of sweet coal and pepper filled his nose, he hurriedly breathed it in, moments before the neck touched his lips.