I See Myself

AN: My first Hohenheim-centric piece.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Ms. Hiromu Arakawa does.

"You gave me life. You are my 'father', and as your 'son', it's only right of me to thank you for bringing me into existence. And what better gift is there than immortality? I have made you a god, my father!"

"A slave? Now, now, a smart young lad like you shouldn't spend his life serving others. How about it? I'll teach you everything there is to know."
"Why? Because I want to help you."

"Alchemy is a precise science… you cannot afford to make mistakes. Never make mistakes."

Never make mistakes.

Van Hohenheim blinked, shaking the mist from his eyes as he felt a small hand tugged on his coat. He looked down, the shine from the sun momentarily blinding him. He blinked again to clear his vision and met the green gaze of Trisha Elric.

The young girl's parents had recently moved into the house on the hill, not even five minutes' walking distance from Pinako's. As a result, the Elric couple often brought their young daughter over to play with Urey, the Rockbells' only son. Hohenheim had a suspicion that the families were hoping to tie the knot between the two when they grew older – it was certainly true that Pinako had developed quite a bond with the boisterous Elric matriarch, Jennifer.

Jennifer's husband, Lewis, was quieter, and usually ignored. Hohenheim, however, often sought the timid man's company – as much as he appreciated Pinako's ability to fill silence with chatter, he enjoyed spending some quiet time as well – and a companion wasn't a bad thing.

In Lewis' brown eyes, Hohenheim saw something of himself, which puzzled him. He shouldn't have been able to compare himself to any mortal man. What other human being had witnessed their friends and loved ones perish, one after another, while they remained unchanged? What other human being heard voices inside their head, their chest, their limbs… pleading voices, angry voices, panic-stricken voices…

(Sometimes, he talked to the voices, and imagined that they had tones he remembered – Darrel, the schoolteacher, and Nemma, the palace cook – and he soothed them, and he told them to trust him, that he would not harm them. Some of them didn't listen, and they made his legs and arms and head and very heart pain, but it didn't hurt that much anymore, not anymore.)

But something about the Elric man's wistful gaze as he watched his wife chatter made Hohenheim sympathize with him. One day, when they were sitting in a mutually comfortable silence, Lewis started to speak.

"I'm afraid," the gray-haired man confessed in a low voice. "I'm afraid of what will happen to Trisha if Jennifer and I ever go away."

Hohenheim blinked slowly. (It seemed that he was doing that quite often.) "She will be well cared for," he spoke in a slow, reassuring voice – one he'd mastered over the years. "The Rockbells will adopt her as their own."

Lewis closed his eyes. "I know they will," he spoke softly, "and I'm grateful. But I still worry for her. What if Pinako and Kimball are not able to provide for her?"

"You needn't worry," Hohenheim spoke again, using the same slow voice. "They will do everything in their power to help Trisha. She will never want for anything, I am sure."

"I know." Lewis' eyes moved restlessly under his lids. "But… but what if it's just me? Just me that… that leaves her…"

Hohenheim viewed him in casual interest. "Why would you leave her?"

"Not intentionally. Never intentionally. I love her… I love her and Jennifer so much. So much that sometimes, I don't know what to do with myself. It's like I'm not capable of anything else, of doing anything more than loving them with everything I have."

Hohenheim took off his oval spectacles and polished them carefully. He'd taken to wearing the contraptions in Xing, many years ago, because at least with them, he could look in the mirror and not see Homunculus' face staring back at him.

Lewis was silent as his companion continued to wipe his glasses clean. Hohenheim put the spectacles back on and measured his words carefully.

"Love isn't a bad thing."

Lewis looks faintly startled at his words. "I know."

Hohenheim's mouth quirked into a wry smile. "If you know so much," he spoke, "then why do you doubt? Surely, if you know all of this, you wouldn't be agonizing over it so much."

Lewis' puzzlement was clear now. "It's not like that… I don't think I know all that much."

Hohenheim was quiet for a moment. Then –

"Why did you marry Jennifer?"

Lewis' mouth dropped open. The mousy-looking man hastily closed his mouth and cleared his throat, straightening his back. "I don't think that's any of your business."

"I see the way you look at her," Hohenheim observed. "You long for something from her, don't you?"

Lewis flushed a dull red. "N-no… I'm very happy… I have Jennifer and Trisha, I don't need anything else…"

"You don't. But you want something else, don't you?"

Lewis sighed.

Hohenheim listened to the entire story. Of how Lewis had been in love with Jennifer for years, but she had never liked him much. She had eventually married him because her father had wanted an alliance with Lewis' family, but she had never treated him with affection, not really. She liked him, Lewis explained clumsily, stumbling over his words, but she didn't see him as anything more than a father of her children. She didn't see him as her husband, or her partner, or anything like that.

"But it's all right," Lewis spoke after a while. "As long as I have her… I'm all right."

Hohenheim found the entire story sad, but amusing. The pointless emotions of mortal men…

He froze.

What had he just thought?

Van Hohenheim got to his feet. "I'm sorry, Lewis," he spoke tightly. "I should be going."

"Wait." The Elric man raised his brown gaze to meet Hohenheim's golden eyes. "I must ask a favour of you."

Hohenheim exhaled slowly. "Name it."

"I…" Lewis took a deep breath. "I don't think I have much longer to live. If I… if I…" He choked on his words, and Hohenheim viewed him emotionlessly. "Will you take care of Trisha for me?" Lewis finally managed, his gray hair falling onto his forehead.

Hohenheim wondered at the man's outward appearance. Why did a young man like Lewis – younger even that Hohenheim had been before he was turned – have gray hair? He thought it better not to ask.

"I will," Van Hohenheim replied.

"Human beings are so worthless. So full to the brim with countless emotions and dreads – it's sickening. The only way to be strong is to steel yourself against your emotions. Look at me. I don't have emotions – that's what makes me so powerful, wouldn't you agree, Van Hohenheim?"

Trisha clutched his coat and sobbed into it during the entire funeral. Hohenheim wasn't sure what had drawn the chestnut-haired girl to him – her cheerful personality clashed violently with his own darker one. But she stuck to his side, and refused to leave him even after the ceremony, prompting Jennifer Elric to invite him to her house.

"If you'd like," the woman spoke hesitantly – it was like her husband's death had made her meeker and less sure of herself – "if you'd like, you can stay here. Permanently, I mean. I know you and Lewis… you were good friends. You'll take care of my Trisha."

"I appreciate your offer, madam, but I'm not sure I can accept."

Jennifer bowed her head. "I understand. The Rockbells said you move a lot – you must work for the military, isn't that right? I suppose you can't stay in one place for long. Pinako said you've already been here a year and a half, isn't that right?"

Hohenheim inclined his head. "I should be moving on soon, yes."

Jennifer tucked a lock of chestnut hair behind one ear. "Until you go, please feel free to treat this house as your own," she smiled.

That night, Hohenheim lay down in the guest bedroom of the Elric household and cried.

"Trust me. Just trust me."

"What do you say? I can make all your dreams come true."

"Don't be such a skeptic. Just see what I have to offer."

"Father."

Father.

Father.

Hohenheim opened his eyes to hear a soft whimper. Trisha Elric had walked into his room and curled up next to him on the bed. The sounds of 'father' were coming from her, but as soon as she noticed his gaze on her, she stopped. Her green eyes were bright with unshed tears, but the eleven-year-old offered the grown man a small smile.

"You were crying in your sleep, Mr. Hohenheim. Did you have a bad dream?"

Hohenheim passed a hand over his face. "No, I wasn't. Perhaps you should go back to your bed, Trisha."

The young girl peered up at him with strangely wise eyes. "I think," she said carefully, "that you shouldn't be afraid to trust people."

"Trust me."

Van Hohenheim didn't trust easily.

Not after that time.

He'd learned not to make the same mistake again.

But he didn't leave that house on the hill for a long, long time.

AN: I kind of like Lewis' character. -hugs him-

The parts in italics are things Homunculus/Father said to Hohenheim. Obviously, they're not from the manga – I just made them up. ^^;;

1,539 words.