Don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, would be nice but a fool's dream.
The Rockbell home was just as it had always been, unlike his own which had burned to the ground in his absence. Pinako had grown much older, John, Sara, and Trisha were dead, and little Winry had grown up to become a striking young woman. Sitting on the porch, absently chatting with the lovely Lt. Ross, Hohenheim let his mind wander over what had, and had not changed in his 14-year absence. As far as the physical features of Risenbool went, with the exception of his own home, surprisingly little had changed. The small town was still as small, simple, and sleepy as it had always been.
One thing that consistently bugged him was the location and well being of his sons. Neither Edward nor Alphonse were in town, and if the local gossip was as accurate as he remembered it to be, hadn't been for some time. Pinako had been strangely reluctant to discuss either of the boys with him for some reason, and while Winry was fascinated with him, she would undoubtedly be suspicious of questions asked by a near-to total stranger. So he waited, casually flirting, and kept his ears open.
Suddenly he heard a shout behind him. He barely had time to turn around before a lithe figure dressed completely in black with ling blond hair in a tight braid smashed a fist across his jaw with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer, knocking him clear out of his chair so fast he slammed into the porch railing. Despite the pain, he squinted at his assailant, trying to place the nagging sense of familiarity. Blond hair, golden eyes, short, wiry build…. wait. Those around him were calling his attacker "Ed", or "Edward", though one black-haired officer was yelling something about "Fullmetal". He took another moment to re-catalogue. Blond hair and golden eyes, like his current body, Trisha's height and build…. Was this Edward?
But where was his youngest son? Edward and Alphonse had been inseparable when he'd known them. He glanced around, but none of the onlookers matched the physical description of the child who had been about to take his first unassisted steps when he'd left. From what he remembered, Alphonse had blond hair, though a darker blond than his brother's, closer to Trisha's brown hair than Edward's gold. The boy also had Trisha's grey eyes, and no one here had anything close to that shade. Wait. That suit of armor was moving on it's own and he knew that it had formerly been in his workshop, where he'd stored several things from before he'd moved to Risenbool. And he had heard of a renewed interest in Soul Alchemy in the underground gossip streams. Putting that together with the fact that the armor was calling Edward "Brother", the conclusions were obvious to the rankest Alchemy novice. Obviously an accident had happened, and to save his brother, Edward had been forced to figure out Soul Alchemy and bind his brother's soul to the armor. He couldn't see any missing limbs on Edward, but there were many things the Gate could have taken in exchange, and the Rockbells were the best automail engineers for miles around.
He dragged his mind back to the present with an effort, just in time to catch the end of Edward's rant about how he had no right to show his face in Risenbool now after the way he'd walked out on the boys, and how he had no right to be flirting with Lt. Ross after Trisha had died waiting for him to return home. His son was right, but he'd simply had to leave. His latest body had begun to rot, plus Dante's feelers had begun to get too close to his new family for any kind of comfort. He'd left, not only to spare Trisha and the boys the sight of their father literally rotting away, but to try and keep them under Dante's radar. He'd come back as soon as he was positive Dante had called off the hunt so to speak, and her attention was directed elsewhere. He didn't know exactly what had drawn his former partner's obsessions as he wasn't keyed into her spy networks, but knowing her obsession with eternal life, some idiot Alchemist had gotten close enough to the Stone for her and her minions to take personal interest.
Later that night, banished from the Rockbell home by both the combined weight of memories and Edward's tight-lipped disapproval, he kept one ear tuned to the conversation inside. The lovely Ross was commentating on the cologne he constantly wore to disguise the sent of rotting flesh, to the despair of her Sergeant companion. When Edward replied to that observation, it was to give voice to some of the anger and resentment that seemed to have been building up from even before he'd left. Part of him was astonished at how long the boy had been carrying the emotional baggage around. The other part of him was proud of his son for being able to put together some of the puzzle pieces together at the tender age of two.
He abruptly snapped out of his daydreaming when he heard Dante's name mentioned inside the house. Mentally, he reviewed the last few minutes of the conversation, trying to find the context. This Lira person, who both his son's knew, had worked in Dante's home, than had reappeared wherever his sons had just been, some place called Lior, smothered in the same sent Edward associated with himself.
Dante, with a new female apprentice, who was now covering herself in perfume? It appeared that Dante hadn't given up hopping from one body to another like he'd hoped. He may have been avoiding Dante for nearly 200 years now, but he could still predict her habits and obsessions like the back of his current hand. If she'd showed herself to his boys not once but twice, that meant that she was very interested in their activities. He had to find a way to distract her, and quickly.
It hurt, hearing Edward tell him that he had no business hearing about the lives of himself and Alphonse, given that he'd missed the majority or all of them. But what hurt more than the words, was the tone they were delivered in. it wasn't the tone of a 16-year old boy, it was the tone of a man who had seen and done far too much. He recognized the tone, but he'd been in his 40's when he first heard it in himself. No one under 30 should have such exhaustion in their voice, and Edward was only 16! And no boy should be that vulnerable either. He hadn't missed Edward's look of total loss when Alphonse decided that he wanted to hang out with his father.
Speaking of, Edward was being very, very careful never to touch Alphonse directly, as was Colonel Mustang. It was subtle, but once he was paying attention he couldn't help but notice that Edward never let so much as a gloved fingertip touch the armor. From the sly glances Pinako, Winry, and both Lt,'s kept casting at his sons, this was definitely not normal behavior. Only the mousy bookworm and the sulking sergeant seemed oblivious to the slight tension in Edward's frame whenever Alphonse came too close to himself or Mustang.
But why only those two? It was obvious that the colonel was a State Alchemist, his arrayed gloves and silver pocket watch shouted his status to the winds. Neither of his sons bore the state issued symbol, but if he had to guess that both of them followed the art as well. Plus, Mustang had introduced himself as Edward's commanding officer, and the only branch of the military that might conceivably take in children was the Alchemy program. Thus, Edward was an Alchemist, but had joined the ranks of the State Alchemists as well. He vaguely suspected that a normal father would be throwing a fit over the fact that his son was legally a soldier despite not yet having reached his majority, but he knew that after seeing the Gate, and Edward had to have seen the Gate in order to find out what he needed to know about Soul Transmutation, than he could handle anything the Military could dish out. Either the Gate destroyed you, or it made you stronger by showing you the Truth, no two ways about it.
And that strength, he realized, was such that he no longer needed a father. Nor did Alphonse either, for in the younger boy's experiences, the strong one in his life always was his brother. He didn't have a place here anymore, Risenbool may have looked the same as when he left, but it had moved on without him. The only one here that had been waiting for him to return had been Trisha, and according to Pinako, she had been dead for almost 6 years now.
Just because his boys didn't need a father anymore, didn't mean that he couldn't help them out where he could. So he answered Alphonse's questions about the Philosopher's Stone, despite the chill he felt at exactly why those questions were asked in the first place. He informed colonel Mustang everything the idealistic young man needed to know about homunculi, where they came from, how they functioned, and hinted that they were being controlled by another force. He would have talked to Edward, if the boy hadn't been extrodinarily stubborn and avoid him like the plague. And if he didn't guess that his older son didn't already know what he needed. He almost smiled, thinking of the boy that looked so much like himself. He'd obviously inheirited his live of Alchemy, boundless curiosity; strong will, with the addition of an unshakable moral code based on protecting his brother. He would go far in life, if Dante were able to remove him from her sights.
He sighed, looking over at the hill where his home used to be, remembering the few short years he'd had with Trisha and the boys. Turning his back, as he'd done all those years ago, he left, this time without any intention of returning. As he made his way to the train station, he worked on a mental list of all the places Dante would have gone to ground, if she wanted to be sure that no one would find her. By the time the train started moving, he had narrowed it down to one location. Dante had to be in the abandoned city beneath Central, where they'd worked on the Philosopher's Stone.
A little glimpse into the mind of Hohenheim. About his having to leave to avoid Dante's dragnet, we know that the military was looking for him, not why, and with Pride as fuher Dante has unrestricted access to the entirety of Military Intelligence. Plus, she obviously was watching the Elric house because she was able to snatch Sloth. In this case, military watchers Dante.
Also a bit of why Hohenheim left as fast as he did, and why he picked that moment of all moments to reappear.
If you'd believe it, I started it with the question of what if Hohenheim didn't recognize his son's immediately. Must say that I'm surprised and pleased with what came out.
Stay tuned, planning a second chapter on Hohenheim's encounter with Dante, from Dante's POV. Have it all written up, just need to type and edit it.