Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

He stands on the hill looking down into the valley below. The wind is blowing his blonde hair into his eyes and he keeps brushing it out with increasing frustration. Ghosts haunt his mind, like an old black and white movie. The images stream through with ever increasing speed and he knows it's only going to get worse. Sighing heavily and with a little bit of defeat he squares his shoulders and starts down the hill.

The village below is quiet, just waking. A couple shop keepers have started to open up for the day and fog that lies in the street hugging the ground doesn't bother them. But when the young man emerges from the fog, like an apparition, they stop what they're doing to stare. Here in the village he's the ghost.

He doesn't notice the looks his getting, everything is overlaid with the memories, the visions of his past. He sees his little brother running ahead of him, stumbling as he turns mid stride to yell back for the older to hurry up. The sticky bun clutched in his hand falls and he stops to look at it with tears starting to well in his eyes. The vision ends and the young man keeps walking.

He's supposed to be heading home, but he feels like he's headed into a dream. He promised he'd come back after some soul searching and some losing himself in other routines. He's not even sure anyone is waiting anymore, it's been years.

The villagers are starting to come out and the shop keepers are spreading the news. "He's back" are the words flooding the streets and people are unsure what to think. The boy genius, returned after years away and no one even thought he was still alive, in fact many had heard he was dead.

He's out of the village now, headed up a dirt road pass rolling fields, sure footed though his eyes are unfocused. He keeps whispering to himself, aborted sentences of things said long ago. 'I need time, just give me time' 'I know, I could do that here but…well I can't' 'Get mad if you want but I'm still leaving tomorrow'.

He's so lost in his thoughts he only sees the house in front of him through the veil of him memories. The old woman is gone, he remembers reading the letter and crying. The young woman who used to wait for him is married with a baby of her own. His brother, he has no idea if he is still waiting at the house a mile away. He almost walks up the steps but decides against it. He is still remembering and the memories will make it hard to talk.

He turns, suitcase heavy in his hand and heads toward the house a mile away, waiting in sun, a home that they burned then rebuilt with their own hands. When he nears the house he pauses the memories cascade before his eyes and he can see his brother standing on the steps watching him leave and he knows that he has done so much damage. He shakes his head and starts up the steps, knocking lightly on the door. It's still early the sun barely burning off the mist and it takes a moment before he hears footsteps. When the door opens there is silent surprise and wide bronze eyes. Then there is a smile brighter than the sun and a warm hand on his shoulder,

"Welcome home Brother"

He's dropping his suitcase and returning the hug before it registers that he's forgiven and he knows he has finally reached home and the end of his journey.