May 22nd, 1942

Alphonse Elric was a little surprised when Edward asked him if he wanted to spend a weekend camping. No wives, no kids, no work; just the two of them out in the woods, roughing it the old fashioned way. Naturally, Al jumped at the chance!

"You're not taking supplies?" Sara gave them a puzzled look when they were getting ready to go. It probably did look funny. They hadn't packed anything resembling food, cooking utensils, or a tent.

"Not really," Al shrugged as he watched Edward fishing around – rather literally – on the cellar shelves for a little fishing line. "Almost everything we could possibly need is already provided by nature."

"Besides," Ed chuckled, finding the line and handing it over to Al, then going back to hunting. "Where we're going is a lot easier than Yock Island ever was."

Ed's choice for a camping spot, which Al hadn't argued with, was a lake only a couple of hours north of Central by train. It was nestled in a hilly, thickly treed area, within only a couple of hours walk out to the lake from the small town of Leyland. They had never been there before, but one of their alchemy students a few years back was from Leyland, and had praised the lake for being a well kept local secret.

Sara shrugged. "So what do you call these?" she gestured to the small pile of items Ed had collected: fishing line and hooks, a flint and steel, and a spare pair of Ed's under shorts.

Al chuckled when Ed flashed a smile and replied, "Luxuries."

Al's niece looked mildly perplexed then shrugged. "While I'm sure you two can survive a weekend in the woods, even at your age," she teased, smirking, "Why not make use of resources if you have them?"

"It's not about that, Sara," Al explained as they all headed back upstairs. "We could take everything we need, pack it up, and drag it out into the woods, sure. But why complicate it unnecessarily? When the point is to enjoy nature, to connect with the world you live in, why bring in things that take away from that? Conveniences may be nice, but they aren't always as convenient as they seem."

It was clear that Sara was listening but didn't entirely understand yet. Sometime, Al thought, he and Ed were definitely going to have to find the time to give his niece a little wilderness survival training. She wasn't soft or spoiled, but there were just some lessons taught best by the world itself. "Well I hope you have fun," she said at last.

"Oh don't worry," Ed laughed. "We will!"


The train ride was short enough, and Al walked next to Ed as they left the Leyland train station, checked a map, and headed west toward the lake. It was a beautiful spring day, and Al admired the landscape as they walked along the dirt road that would take them most of the way to their destination. A few rolling farms gave way quickly to forest that alternated between glades and occasional fields as they wandered into the hills. Wild laurels and other bushes were in full bloom, and the spring leaves were beginning to thicken out, casting much of the trip in pleasant forest shadow that only accented the brightness of the sun-drenched fields between.

The transformation that Al noticed the most though wasn't in the land around them, but in Edward. As they walked, he could almost see the world sloughing off his brother's back, and the years seemed to vanish until it was almost like they were both teenagers again, with no more idea of what waited around the corner or in the future than they really had now; seeing the world as one endless string of possibilities and answers just waiting to be uncovered.

The further they got from town, the more Ed visibly relaxed. An easy smile came to his face, and Al couldn't help but smile in return. The world around them, quiet as it seemed, was full of life in the spring. Squirrels and birds flitted through the trees in abundance, and Ed held out a hand at one point for Al to stop moving. Only seconds later a mother deer and twin fawns rustled out of a bush nearby and froze, watching the two brothers intently for several seconds before they crossed the road and vanished on the other side.

They left the road after several miles, following a path that was little more than a deer track until, cresting a hill, they found it. The small lake glistened in the early evening sunlight, nestled amidst the trees. A well kept local secret indeed! "It's beautiful," Al smiled appreciatively.

"A real local treasure," Ed sighed contentedly. "Come on, Al! Let's check it out."

Chuckling, Al joined him as they made their way down the other side of the hill and down to the lake shore. The sun was beginning to drop lower in the sky. "Perfect hour for fishing," Al commented with a grin. They were going to need dinner.

"My thought exactly." Ed dug the line and hooks out of his pocket, and Al hunted around on the ground for two good straight, slightly whippy sticks. Something with enough give a fish wouldn't snap it if one decided to put up a fight!

They found few signs that the locals used the spot, which showed really how much they cared for it, save for a spot a little up the hill where a fire pit had been well covered. "At least we know where to put it," Ed chuckled. "All right, let's fish!"

Evening, like early morning, was the best time to catch fish, and it took them surprisingly little time to catch dinner. While Ed cleaned them, Al uncovered the fire pit, located firewood, and got the fire going just as the sun dipped below the tree line. It was nice really, doing for themselves without modern conveniences or alchemy.

The fish were stuck on sticks and cooked over the fire. The smell of cooking fish set both of their stomachs to rumbling; Al was glad fish did not take long to cook. They took even less time to eat!

As the fire grew low, Al and Ed kicked off their shoes and lay down on the ground in the thick grass that covered the hillside; a soft and more than satisfactory bed. Above them was a cloudless night that rivaled the sky above Resembool for how clearly they could see the stars above; the Milky Way stretching in a glimmering band across the black expanse.

"So why did you really want to come out here, Brother?" Al asked into the quiet. While camping was certainly fun, taking an entire weekend to just run off on their own was not something the brothers had done in a long time. The last time Al remembered fishing with Ed was in Europe! Before that, he had been armor.

Ed chuckled. "I wanted to reconnect, Al," he replied softly, still looking up into the star-strewn heavens. "With myself, with you, with the world." From the way he said the last, it was clear he didn't mean society, cities, people, but the world as a whole and his singular part in it. Al settled back and got comfortable, knowing Ed was about to get philosophical. "People get so wrapped up in politics, decisions, dealing with the issues that crop up in every day living, that we get focused on our own little worlds; we get selfish. But the world continues, no matter what we try and do to it. It's bigger than grocery bills, strategic meetings, government policies, strange quests," Ed smirked a little at that last. "The world's a big, complicated place and we're only a small part, but we are always part of it. When we lose sight of that, it's easy to feel lost… adrift. But out here, I feel more solidly connected. The world is immediate. It's everywhere, in its purest form. It's like I can feel life flowing around me and if I listen, I can figure out my place in it."

"That's very poetic, Brother," Al smiled, closing his eyes and feeling the grass beneath him, the light breeze that stirred his hair, the warmth of the dying fire nearby. He could hear the lapping of the lake, the crackle of burning wood, an owl hooting in the distance, and crickets. If he concentrated, he could even hear Ed's breathing, his own heartbeat; the ebb and flow of the world. "This was a very good idea you had. Thanks for inviting me."

"As if I would have come alone," Ed chuckled. "This trip wouldn't be complete without you by my side, Al." He said it with such surety that Al felt warm inside. Despite the fact that they saw each other every day, worked together, often ate dinner at each other's houses, and hung out on weekends, it was still so different from when they had spent almost every waking moment together. It wasn't bad, of course, but Ed still apparently missed those days the same way Al did sometimes. It was nice to know.

"We always have been a great team," Al smiled, opening his eyes again and gazing up at the stars. "I think that's when we do most of our best work."

"Yours maybe," Ed smiled. "All of mine. Without you around, I always get into too much trouble."

"I can't argue with you there," Al chuckled softly, but he understood the deeper meaning in his brother's words. It was true that they were a great team and their strengths and weaknesses balanced out. With their minds and their abilities, they were pretty much unbeatable in the long run: no fight lost, no problem unsolved. But it was more than that. They were always there to cover each other's backs, and could trust there would never be a moment when they had to worry about their backup. Ed and Al knew each other that well; their bond went that deep. They were both capable on their own, but they were much more vulnerable on multiple levels. "I couldn't help thinking," Al admitted into the quiet, "that if I hadn't been ordered to stay in Central, maybe I could have made a difference; kept you from being taken, or at least been there with you."

"That's crazy," Ed sighed, looking over his way. "We made a move that looked strategically sound, and I was wrong. Chances are if you'd have been there you would have just been in the cell with me, and you'd have been just as interesting a target for them." Al watched as his brother swallowed, closed his eyes a moment, then looked back up at the stars. "Knowing what I was protecting kept me going, Al. You were right there with me, because I could always hear your voice giving me encouragement, and useless scolding."

"Scolding?" Al sat up a little, looking Ed's way again.

"Yeah," Ed actually laughed. "Like, I had just gotten done telling off the lady one time, and I bit her hand. Suddenly in my head there was this stern 'that's not nice, brother! You should apologize.'"

"That is pretty useless isn't it?" Al chuckled. It was good to hear Ed laugh again. Moody as Ed had always been, that didn't mean he had always been depressed or angry. Ed felt all his emotions deeply, and Al knew that meant it was much easier to hurt his brother that way. "I like to think that I wouldn't have said it in that particular instance!"

"I don't know," Ed shrugged. "You've said things like that in the past, especially when we were kids! It was kind of like having a physical manifestation of my conscience following me around." His tone was teasing, but it was something Ed obviously appreciated. His eyes conveyed that well enough.

"A tough job, but someone had to do it," Al replied lightly. It was nice, he thought, that there was so much that could be said without words, conveyed under the pleasant banter they always exchanged. "Though Winry does a good job of that too."

Ed shook his head. "You're my conscience…she's the guilt trip." He yawned, stretched, and readjusted his position.

Al couldn't help chuckling. "You are awfully fond of guilt aren't you?"

His brother grinned suggestively. "Didn't you know that's why I really like wallowing in guilt?"

Al rolled his eyes. "You're incorrigible, Brother…and I'm glad for it." For a little while, he had worried that part of Ed's spirit had died in that cell in the desert. Seeing him today though, he could relax, knowing that wasn't the case.

There was no response. Al turned his head again and looked over at Ed. His brother was fast asleep. Rolling over on his side and closing his eyes, Al couldn't help but think that really, some things never changed.

May 23rd, 1942

Alphonse was the first to awaken the next morning too, the first rays of sunrise tapping lightly on his eyelids. He opened his eyes and sat up. The lake was lovely, with light wisps of mist dancing across it but burning off quickly as the sun hit them, leaving the water reflecting the colors of dawn. Breathtakingly beautiful! He should bring Elicia out here sometime; alone preferably. Maybe the whole family another time; but Al was willing to bet that this lake had been the sight of many a local's romantic trysts.

Al stood, stretched, and found a bush. When he got back to their spot, Ed was still unconscious, lying on his back on his coat, mouth open. Unsurprisingly, his shirt had come untucked and his stomach was showing. Ed had always rolled a lot in his sleep. Some things really didn't ever change! Al nudged Ed tentatively with one foot, and his brother grunted, shifting away slightly. "Nnngh… not now," he murmured. A small smile came to his face, "Winry."

Al chuckled softly and let him be. This was Ed's trip and if he wanted to sleep in Al wasn't going to disturb him. Especially not if he was having good dreams! He walked down to the edge of the water and crouched, taking a drink and splashing a little of it on his face. The brisk chill made him shudder, but he felt fully awake now! He crouched along the shore and watched as a family of ducks waddled down and began to splash and swim; two parents and six fluffy yellow ducklings. He finally got up and walked a little ways down the shore line, keeping an eye out for breakfast options as he went. They could have more fish of course, but he knew that something else would be nice too.

A little ways off, Al struck breakfast. It was early in the year, but he found a patch of wild strawberries growing rampant. A couple of trips back and forth with full hands picked most of the ripe ones, and gave them enough for a decent serving each. It wasn't a full breakfast, but it was a good start. Ed was still unconscious, though he had rolled onto his side. Al decided to try his luck with the morning fishing and took his fishing-pole from the evening before back to the shore.

The fish were biting. Having not learned their lesson the evening before, Al caught two in quick succession before they seemed to get the idea and grew more cautious. Al kept watching the wildlife. There was actually quite a lot in the area if you were patient. The ducks were feeding, and a deer came out of the woods around a curve in the shoreline, drinking delicately, a fawn at her side. Al noticed a stag standing behind them in the shadows, ears alert, waiting for any danger. Families of all sorts lived by this lake it seemed. The world was coming alive around him; birds twittering in the trees, and a butterfly winged past him to settle in the wildflowers. They reminded Al of his family. Elicia was like the deer, patient, graceful, but capable of making quick decisions. He liked to think of himself as the stag; stalwart, serene, but capable of fiercely protecting his family. The children were more like the ducklings; Will and Alyse would have been splashing all over this place in seconds, though they would have loved the animals. Will could sit still for hours, just taking things in. Alyse was a little more rambunctious, well-behaved but precocious, and reminded Al of Elicia more than himself.

A raccoon padded by, almost ignoring him completely as it washed itself, and its breakfast, less than ten yards away. Across the way, grass rustled, and a pair of foxes with their kits came down to drink as well. The little foxes wrestled, and the mother barked sharply. Al chuckled. They reminded him very much of Ed, Winry, and their family. If Al was a stag, Ed was definitely a fox: small, fierce, loyal, and with a very sharp bite!

The abundance of life brought back Ed's words from the night before; echoes of the lessons they had learned under Izumi's tutelage as boys. The world had a flow, and it only went one way. They were each a small part of that whole.

It was beautiful places like this that made Al think that, if there was a heaven, and those who had passed were there – if it was really so far away – that maybe they were listening in, watching people go about their lives. If death was part of that flow, that cycle, things didn't necessarily just stop with death for the soul any more than the body. He, better than most, understood that the soul could live without the body, and be separated from it. He could still temporarily put part of his soul into other things; but he did it only in important situations; stopping after he had accidentally almost witnessed something embarrassing by trying to leave a message for Ed as his toaster!

Still, Al did not share his brother's skepticism. He never had, even if he wasn't entirely sure how it all worked. So, sometimes, he would "talk" to his mother, or to Maes Hughes, or Pinako. Not out loud, and not with any expectation of a reply, but if souls who had passed beyond could listen in he hoped that, someday, when he really died, people would still talk to him too.

It was a silly thing he had never told Ed. His brother would have scoffed, and he didn't do it often. But sometimes if he wanted someone to talk to, he would do that. Imagining how that person would answer him often helped him sort things out.

The line bounced and Al came alert again, yanking up sharply. A third fish landed on the ground beside him.

"Those look tasty." Al looked up and saw Ed standing behind him, blinking in the morning sun. "Mind if I join you?"

"Of course not," Al chuckled. "I've just learned over the years not to wake you when you're dreaming about Winry."

Ed chuckled and dropped down next to him, casting his line. "You're all heart, Al. By the way," he grinned at him. "You wanted some of those strawberries right?"

Al sighed. "Why? Did you eat them all?"

"What kind of a brother would I be if I did that?" Ed asked, feigning insult.

"You," Al teased. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Well for your information, I only took my half," Ed said.

"A noble sacrifice," Al retorted, and they both laughed.


Edward was a lot more awake by the time they finished breakfast. Really, fresh fire-cooked fish was good any time of day in his opinion. Maybe he could talk Winry into letting them actually eat it for breakfast at home once in a while! The sun was climbing up into the sky and the weather was getting definitively warm. The animals that Alphonse had pointed out to him earlier had all scattered with the onset of true day, and they were pretty much alone on the lake shore.

A grasshopper leaped over Ed as it made its way to where ever it was going, and Ed chewed on the end of a long piece of sweet grass. It was so pastoral; reminding Ed of his childhood and many times he and Al had camped out on their travels in remote areas between towns. There was a lot of world out there very few people ever saw or even thought about.

"Hey, Brother," Al loomed up over him, casting a shadow. "Have you put out snares for dinner yet?"

Ed squinted up, putting up a hand to block the sun so he could better see Al's face. "Why are snares always my job?"

"Because you've got to do something resembling your fair share," Al chuckled. "I've already located enough edible plants around here for lunch." He gestured behind him and Ed turned his head, spotting a pile of fresh picked greens of various types, mushrooms, and nuts settled in an old chunk of hollow log Al had split and used for bowls. "Unless you think you can make it on two meals in a day."

"I haven't gone that soft," Ed smirked. "But I'd rather not go hungry either!" He stretched, groaned, and got to his feet. "I'll set up snares after we eat!"

Really the chore didn't take long and it wasn't that much effort. A little of their extra line, find a couple of rabbit trails in the brush, and it was set. Still, under the trees it was a little muggy; storms coming later he could guess from the growing humidity, and Ed was sweating when he returned to the shore.

His brother was not immediately in evidence. "Alphonse?" he called out, curious. "Where'd you go?"

"Out here!" Al laughed, and Ed turned, spotting his brother several yards out into the lake, floating in the water. His clothes, save his shorts – thank goodness – were in a little pile on the shore. "It feels great! You should come in!" Al ducked under and came up yards away, swimming with long, smooth practiced strokes.

"That's just sick," Ed laughed even as he yanked his shirt over his head. The water looked great! "When did you get so good anyway?"

"Practice," Al taunted. "You know there's a pool at HQ right?"

"Actually, I did," Ed retorted. Over the years, especially after Sara's near-drowning in the river in Resembool, Ed had put in the effort to improve his swimming. Improvements in his auto-mail helped. Winry really was a genius in that respect; more waterproofing, lighter, rust proof, his limbs were much more equally balanced now than they used to be, and it had made swimming easier. He wasn't great, but he was proficient! He slipped out of his pants and, shorts-clad, Ed charged into the water until he hit waist-deep, then jumped forward, feeling the cold water close over his head as he was completely submerged in the green-gray haze of lake water.

He popped up again a few seconds later, hair plastered to his face. Chuckling, he pushed it aside and looked around for Al.

Something closed around his ankle. "Hey!" Ed jumped, feeling himself pulled downward. He spun, kicking what he was pretty sure was his brother with his free leg – in this case his auto-mail one – and was free.

Al came up sputtering with laughter. "Nice kick," he smiled, rubbing his shoulder.

"Lousy grip," Ed teased then didn't give his brother any further warning before giving him a full body splash that sent spray flying in all directions; very effectively starting a water fight!

They splashed and laughed and tackled each other until it was an all out sparring match in the water. Ed found himself winded after half an hour of constant war – water really took it out of you faster than fighting in open air – But he wasn't about to let Al beat him! He made an attempt to dodge another grab from Al, and as he fell into the water, a splash rising above him then falling back to the surface, he saw it. "Hey," he blinked, and went under briefly. He shoved up again, sputtering. "Rainbows!"

"What?" Al gave him a puzzled look. "Are you waterlogged, Brother?"

"No," Ed shook his head, grinning. "Watch." He smacked the water again in such a way that it came back down in showers of droplets. The sun was at just the right angle that a rainbow was clearly visible amidst the drops. He knew how rainbows worked of course: the refraction of light that separated light into its composite wavelengths visually. The prismatic effect was pretty. That didn't make them any less marvelous on a hot spring day!

"That's beautiful," Al agreed, creating one of his own. The two brothers exchanged mischievous grins, and the splashing ensued only instead of chasing each other, they were chasing rainbows, and glad that no one was around to see the two grown men cavorting like kids!

When they were both exhausted they sprawled out on the shore to dry off. Ed held a finger in front of his eyes, watching the little rainbows visible in each single drop of water. "Incredible isn't it?" he commented softly. "Even though you can't see the whole thing each one is a perfect circle, and even though you can't touch them they're as real as anything else."

"So you don't think of them as illusions?" Al asked from his spot where he had collapsed a few feet away.

Ed shook his head. "They're made of light. Technically you could say they're an optical illusion, but just because you can't touch something doesn't make it less real." He smiled over at Al. So many things that were real to them both existed in the abstract. Ed had learned to consider those during their years trying to return his little brother to his body. Al's soul, the nature of memories: so many things were hardly concrete. "A rainbow is perfect too; one of the few things that is. Only nature makes a perfect circle and it makes it one we can't hold in our hands, can't draw except to mimic. Simple science, and so beautiful. Yet they're elusive. You can't catch one no matter how hard you try."

"Sure you can," Al replied.

Ed gave him a look. "Now who's waterlogged?"

Al chuckled. "Think about it, Brother. If you can't touch something, you can still hold on to it right? You were able to bind my soul to armor and I still had memories," he tapped his head. "If you can see a rainbow, you've already caught it. It's captured in your memories and in the joy it brings. Rainbows are circles right? So maybe they make the world a more beautiful place by transmuting things their own way; by uplifting the spirit and filling people with wonder."

Ed smiled. "I like that." He looked at the rainbows in the drops of water on his fingers again, capturing them forever, so he could share them with his family when he got home.


Storm clouds began to roll in about mid-afternoon, just as Ed had been expecting. The air began to feel heavier. He checked his traps, and found that two of them had borne fruit or rather, rabbits!

They cooked the rabbits immediately, knowing that when the rain started dumping they were going to run out of fire fast. Fortunately rabbits cooked quickly, because as soon as they were off the fire Ed and Al could see a wall of rain come moving towards them. As it came across the lake they ran for the cover of the trees up the hill!

They made it, but just barely; the water dumping in a steady downpour right on their heels and then on the trees above them. Drips made it through, but fortunately the growth was thick enough to keep off most of the rain.

"I guess we won't be stargazing tonight," Ed chuckled, settling down with his back against a tree and taking a large bite into his rabbit. "At least we've got dinner!" The last bit was slightly garbled. Juice from the rabbit ran down his chin.

Al laughed, sitting down next to him and taking a bite as well. "And we're dry," he pointed out. "We don't even have to try and build a shelter."

"Nope," Ed said. They could have gone with plan B and used alchemy, but it really wasn't necessary. Besides, Ed actually liked the rain as long as he was dry! The sound of it pattering on the leaves above was restful. "More people should spend time in places like this," he commented softly after a couple of minutes of quiet eating. "They wouldn't spend so much time trying to destroy each other and the world around them if they could just appreciate it for what it is."

"You should write a book," Al suggested.

"A book?" Ed snorted, chuckling. "What would I write a book about?"

"The truth."

"No one would believe it in print," Ed countered. Hell, some people didn't believe it when they heard it from first person accounts! He took another bite of rabbit, chewing thoughtfully. "If people wanted the truth, they'd be more willing to listen to hair-brained stories and consider the possibilities."

"Like we did?" Al chuckled.

"Well, sort of," Ed shrugged. They had harried off after every possible lead they could for the Stone, no matter how unlikely. Most of them hadn't panned out. Still, if they hadn't been willing to take the chances of failure, they would never have managed what they had. "I know we tell all of our students the story and they believe most of it. But I'm not sure I want to put all my past mistakes in print for the whole world to see."

"I didn't mean all of that part, not the story," Al shook his head. "But the truth of what a homunculus really is; that the stone doesn't really step beyond the bounds of equivalent exchange. Not how to make these things, but why the making of them doesn't work, why it's wrong; why some kinds of alchemy shouldn't be tried."

"There are tons of books like that, Al," Ed pointed out between bites.

"But none of them speak with authority," Al countered. "They're all theorists, picking at old material, trying to make sense of what happened without knowing the details. If you wrote it, with everything we know now, it would have a lot more weight."

"What about you?" Ed countered. Al was much better suited to that kind of thing. He had more tact for one thing.

Al smirked at him. "I'm not the Fullmetal Alchemist. I'll help you if you want, but I think you should be the one to write it. It would be more of a series of definitive papers bound together; but a treatise on alchemy such as hasn't been written. We read theories for years Ed. Wouldn't it be nice for someone to pick up a book and find real answers?"

Ed had to admit that idea had merit. At least, he sure would have liked a book that better detailed things like why human transmutation was forbidden; examples and explanations, not buttoned up silence. Something that really compiled all of the information on the Philosopher's Stone would be good too. "Of course," he said after a minute. "It should only be available to alchemists." He didn't want any of that information falling into the hands of people who would misunderstand it too easily.

"So put it in the State library," Al nodded. "If you want it to reach non-State alchemists though, you'll have to spread it a little more widely. Chances are most people won't be interested in reading it unless they're alchemists. Or, it might be best read by anyone, than no one else will be tempted to try things without the real truth of the matter."

He had a point, again. "This is complicated," Ed sighed, finishing off his rabbit and tossing the bones out into the rain.

"I take it that means you're thinking about actually doing it," Al smiled.

Ed rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Now that you've planted the idea in my head."

Al chuckled, finishing his own meal and following Ed's lead with the bones. Some animal would probably steal off with them in the night; but that was fine. "Sleep on it," he suggested. "You don't have to decide now."

Ed nodded. "Plenty of time to consider it," he agreed. It wasn't all that late, but he was full and comfortable. He wrapped up in his coat and stared out at the rain until the darkness surrounded them, turning the rain to nothing but sound. He and Al didn't talk anymore that evening, but lay in familiar, companionable quiet.

By the time Ed actually fell asleep, he had five chapters already outlined in his head, and wished he had a pen.

May 24th, 1942

The next morning dawned cloudy and drizzling, and Ed woke feeling a little stiff. Yawning, he stood up and stretched, hearing almost every vertebrae pop from one end of his spine all the way up to the other! "So much for feeling like sixteen again," he smirked.

"You complained then too," Al countered, smiling as he stood up as well. "We should start walking; we have to make the noon train back."

Ed sighed. They would make it without rushing, but that meant there was no time to fish up breakfast. Not that they would be making a fire in this anyway. "I hope we find some more strawberries on the way back."

"You'll live," Al laughed. "Let's go."

The walk back was actually pleasant. The rain stopped and the only sounds were the water dripping off the leaves, which rustled in a light breeze, and the sounds of their own footsteps and breathing.

Ed picked up the pace a little when they hit the road, more to enjoy the exertion than anything else. He hated moving too slowly. Still, he enjoyed the view as much as he had on the way in. While more thickly forested with deciduous trees than Resembool – where the mountains between them and the East tended more towards conifers— it still felt very comfortable and homey. But then, Ed had found that he liked forests.

As they reached the edge of the forest a couple of miles outside of town, the clouds began to break up and the sun came out. Ed was looking up at the time, admiring the cloud formations as they shifted. It was because of that that he saw it first; a perfect double rainbow. "Hey, Al," he chuckled. "Look at that!"

His brother looked up, and a smile spread across his face. "Now that is beauty."

"Don't say that too loud, Elicia will get jealous," Ed sniggered.

"And Winry wouldn't if you did?" Al countered.

"Winry would be glad that I've developed a more aesthetic sense," Ed laughed, then sighed, smiling. "It's so strange to look at my life from the other way around."

"Come again?" Al asked as they continued walking.

"I mean; out here it feels like we're right back where we were twenty or more years ago," Ed tried to explain the feeling. "So looking from that vantage point, it's a little weird to realize that I'm married to Winry and we have three great kids who actually love and respect me… most of the time."

"Kind of like reverse nostalgia or something," Al nodded, seeming to understand. "It's true. I was thinking about that this weekend too actually; remembering when it seemed that most of my life I had been a suit of armor. But that was such a small percentage of it now; even though it shaped who I am in so many ways. I'm glad to be human again though," he grinned mischievously. "Otherwise I expect Elicia would get pretty cold at night."

Ed barked a laugh, trying to envision his brother, still as a suit of armor, marrying Elicia. "That would have made kids a little difficult too."

Al blushed. "Yeah. Like I said, I really don't miss being metal, even if it was harder to bruise!"

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." Ed watched the road ahead of them.. Perhaps all of life's roads were like that. You could sort of see where you were going, but even if you knew what lay at the end of one. You didn't necessarily know how the trip would go, or if you would get detoured or the road might not have been destroyed at some point. And yet, they were sort of like rainbows too. Just because you couldn't see the whole thing didn't mean that it might not be the path to take, because in the end you would get where you were going.

"So," Al commented again after a minute. "You practically swore me to secrecy at HQ about what we were actually doing this weekend. What do we tell the guys when they ask what we did for two days?"

Ed smiled at his brother, and looked back up at the double-arc of light in the sky. "Tell them we were catching rainbows."