Alex is a veteran, but he's not sure he likes thinking of himself as one. Sure, he went to 'Nam, and sure, he was lucky enough to come back from 'Nam, even missing a foot. But he wasn't a soldier, not like John had been, and not like David. No, Delta. Medusa's most ruthless son of a bitch had been Delta, was still Delta when the situation called for it. Compared to everything David had sacrificed for his country? Shit, a foot was small potatoes.

He still has the scars, of course, both physical and mental, but he's very good at hiding them both.

Alex sits a few hands at the poker game, winning some and losing some, excusing himself with a laugh when an unlucky hand wipes him out. "I'll be back," he says with a smile, and he will, but maybe not tonight. If this is a regular thing, which it seems to be, he's happy to drop in and drop out of the game as it suits.

Most people wouldn't think to pair coffee with grilled venison, but most people aren't Alex Conklin. He's academically curious about the dandelion wine, but he's not about to break sobriety just from curiosity. Maybe there's some kind of extract or tonic John used to make it. He should ask. He sits at one of the tables, eating quietly, and enjoying the party. It is a party, isn't it? He's not usually one for parties. But as the sun sets, he finds himself smiling - genuinely happy.