"Seasonal?" Abraham asked.

"Yeah," Ted explained. "Sometimes things just feel right at certain times of the year."

"Like what? Christmas cards?" Abraham folded his arms and leaned back against the counter. His eyes raised off of Ted, and drifted over to the nearby window to look outside.

Ted filled the pot with water and let it sit as bubbles foamed up over the top of the rim and spilled down the sides. "I guess that'd count. It would be weird to get one in the middle of Spring, wouldn't it?"

Abraham shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

"Right...well, I was thinking more along the lines of edible stuff." Ted explained.

"Hah!" Abraham scoffed. "I bet you're thinking of beer, huh?"

"Eha?" Ted exclaimed. "I mean, pine beer crossed my mind, but it's in a strange place. It feels more like a winter drink, but the spruce tips it needs only show up far earlier in the year."

"So it was about beer. How about that." Abraham chuckled.

Ted felt embarrassed for some reason. Like he had been called out on something awkward. But the problem was, he didn't know why he felt that way. After all, he didn't see anything wrong with alcohol. At least not inherently. Especially with how his uncle seemed to be knee deep in it.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with liking alcohol," Ted added rather defensively. "I mean, it's good, and brings people together."

"Also turns some people into monsters," Abraham pointed out.

"No more than usual," Ted grumbled. "Besides, a lot of those people that's just what they hide inside. Alcohol doesn't turn them into monsters, it just makes it harder to hide it."

Abraham seemed to think about Ted's words. Slowly he turned his gaze from the window over to the barrels of alcohol. From there he turned to Ted.

"Do you think boundaries are a bad thing?" He asked.

"Huh? I don't follow." Ted was thrown for a loop. He had gotten defensive, but the strange question seemed to come out of nowhere and confused him enough that he relaxed his defenses again.

"All people carry great evil within them. Man is born wicked after all." Abraham said as if it was a matter-of-fact. "All of us must use our hearts and minds to hold that evil against bay, but abusing alcohol makes that barrier fall."

"So you're saying alcohol is to blame?" Ted snapped almost angrily.

"No. People make their own choices and must live with them." Abraham stood up from the counter and started to walk out towards the exit.

Before he left, he added, "I'm just saying alcohol makes it a lot easier to make the wrong choice."

Wham

The door slammed behind Abraham, and left Ted alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.

"Pfft, must be pretty self important to talk like that." Ted grumbled.

But did Abraham have a point? Did alcohol make things worse? But, it was such a relief. A way to relax and grow together with others. Could something that did so much good, also cause so much evil?

"Maybe...maybe it just made things worse," Ted whispered to himself.

Maybe alcohol hid certain problems until they were so big that they exploded. Maybe the consequence of burying certain issues with it only made things worse.

Could he have...was it actually his fault? Did he write the check not only for his own suffering, but the suffering of the people closest to him?

And so, as Ted grew quieter and quieter he began to spiral down more and more down his catastrophising thoughts.

"You did what?" Sentenza sighed in annoyance.

"We're bound to find it." Lulu said as she waved from inside the silver mirror in Sentenza's hand. "It's only a matter of time.

"How did that even happen?" Sentenza grumbled as he scratched the scar on his neck.

"It's an issue of...light interference." Narissa shoved Lulu out of the way as she appeared front and center in the mirror. "Nothing too crazy to worry about."

"You're the one who put the blasted thing there!" Sentenza snarled.

"Yowch, no need to bite Tiger," Lulu teased. "Things down here are a real page turner you knew."

Sentenza opened the drawer on his bedside table, and slid the mirror inside without another word. Gently, he closed the drawer as their muffled excuses continued to come out.

He let out a long sigh as he shook his head. "Time like this, I really wish I could heal like Sid. I need to get back out there."

He let out a groan of pain as he tried to move to the side of the bed. Frustrated, he stopped and moved his hand to reach for his pistol.

He stopped again and nearly slammed his head back against the beds headboard. "A warm bath and a fresh girl. Now that's really what I need right now. Too bad the best I've got is a bath if I'm lucky."

He slowly pressed his fingers over his pistol and sighed again as he scooted down under his covers. "Maybe a short nap will be me good," he mumbled as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "Maybe it will...hmm mmm mmm"

Sentenza smacked his lips, and then slowly drifted off to sleep. All while a scrawny man stood just outside his door. Azrail stared at the doorknob, and seemed rather conflicted on what he should do now.