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Dennis stepped away from the vast drop on his porch and went back to his bedroom. He slid the window open and stepped out. Jogging briskly up the drive to the main house, he looked back over his shoulder and tried to fight off the obvious question, but there was no way around it.

“Was I so drunk that I didn’t notice the house was hanging precariously off a cliff face last night... or, alternatively, was I so drunk that I slept through whatever led to the house hanging precariously off a cliff face this morning... or, let’s face it, early afternoon?”

“Grampa Alan!” He called ahead, knocking once on the outside of the back door, before going straight inside.

Inside he found the elderly man in question, dressing himself up to the nines. He’d just doffed a respectable fedora and turned to the younger man. Oh crap... what was this about again?

“My place is hanging off a cliff.” Dennis managed to announce.

[b]“I know. I tried to tell you that a few hours ago but you were passed out on your bed.”[/b]

“Oh... yeah. I guess I’m a heavy sleeper.” Dennis spluttered.

[b]“You were passed out. On your bed.”[/b] The older man repeated sharply, and Dennis immediately felt guilt wash over him. It was a familiar sensation as he had experienced it for much of his life regarding anything to do with his family.

“You’re looking good this morning...” Dennis said, trying to break the awkward silence before it became completely paralysing.

The older man just turned and looked at him, his eyes seeming to judge him for every second it took him to figure it out.

“Oh shi-- oh God, is that today?! I’ll go get changed right now!” Dennis said, before running out of the house back down to his flat.

An old compatriot of his grandfather’s, Colonel Ironsides, had been killed in mysterious circumstances earlier this week. A grand public ceremony was being held for him. Apparently that was today...

Five minutes later, Dennis was walking back through the doorway of the main house, looking a bit more presentable if only in dress alone. He had a dress pants and a long sleeved white shirt on, albeit un-tucked, and intended to borrow a tie from his grandfather.

“So... this thing that happened last night. Do you think that could have anything to do with Colonel Ironsides?” Dennis asked, as he buttoned his collar in a mirror.

[b]“No.”[/b] His grandfather answered.

“You don’t think maybe someone rubbed him out and remembered the old Aquilifer was from Little Ulster, Lost Haven?” He inquired, attempting to put his chosen tie on.

[b]“Then why is our place completely untouched?”[/b] The older man responded. [b]“I wouldn’t worry about it. It’ll be unrelated.”[/b]

Dennis looked at an old photo of his grandfather, big, broad and heroic. Smile across his face in the photo. “How can you be so sure?” he said, mainly for his own benefit, but Alan heard him.

[b]“Because some things... your grandfather just knows.”[/b] He said. [b]“Tch.”[/b] He said disapprovingly as he pulled apart the disaster that Dennis had made of his tie, and re-tied it. [b]“You’ll find out in due time.”[/b] He smiled. “Not too shabby,” the older man thought, looking at how his grandson looked.

[i]# In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey, butane in my veins so I’m out to cut the junkie... #[/i]

The older man stepped back at the sound of the ringtone.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, Ma... sorry. I forgot, there was a whole thing. Yes, Grampa Alan’s fine too. Yes, I’m sorry. I know, you probably worried I said I was sorry...” Dennis said, before leaving to finish the call in another room.

The older man sighed and returned to his bedroom mirror to check himself.

He opened a drawer in his dresser and lifted his clothing to reveal a long, thin hidden compartment, about a foot in length. He tried to remember the last time he’d opened this compartment with the thought of taking the contents for himself, but he would today. In Ironsides honour. Not to use. Just in memory. To keep the power close.

Alan Coghlan opened the compartment and removed the Golden Rod. He smiled and felt it’s familiar weight in his hands. It felt heavier in his hands, than when he used to use it himself and he supposed it always would from this day onwards. But the familiar item brought a smile to his old face.

Dennis returned from the other room and saw the old man smiling while he held the device.

“Oh, I was wondering if you’d want me to take that today? See if—“ Dennis never finished his sentence.

The smile drained from the older man’s face and a scowl few would ever see replaced it.

[b]“Don’t you dare even think about it.”[/b] Alan hissed.

“I was just meaning to...”

[b]“I know exactly what you were thinking. The answer’s no. You WILL NOT use this man’s death as a stepping stone to publicity. To—to show off and parade yourself as the new—“[/b] Alan barked.

“I just thought it was good for all active heroes to show up in force and support.”

[b]“You haven’t earned the right.”[/b] The grandfather’s voice dropped to a calm, stern tone that was more frightening than when he’d been yelling. [b]“You’re not an ‘active hero’ yet, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you use his funeral as some kind of coming out party.”[/b]

Dennis dropped the issue. The old man wasn’t entirely wrong and he knew it.

“I’m sorry—“ He offered an apology. “I didn’t mean to.”

[b]“Just get in the car, Dennis.”[/b]

And the pair drove to the funeral in silence.