Ed and Al had only been in the hospital a couple days, but Ed was already getting tired of the staff constantly bombarding them. Even when Ed told them he could look after his brother just fine on his own, they told him he would slow down his own recovery and for heaven's sake just stay in bed or they would put him in a different room. Then Ed would remind them that the only reason they shared a hospital room in the first place was because he was the goddamn Fullmetal Alchemist and no one was going to keep him away from the emaciated brother he'd just rescued from the clutches of Truth itself so help him Go– and while he was figuring out the logistics of that they threatened to sedate him if he didn't calm down.
Anyway, he was already pissed off when yet another nurse barged in, saying, "You have a phone call from a Miss Winry Rockbell."
"I suppose I'll let you take this one, Brother." Al grinned.
"Yeah, sure, leave me to the wolves," Ed said back. "She's probably just going to yell at me."
He was right at first. "You idiot! Do you have any idea how worried you've made me? You make me call Central HQ because where the hell else am I going to find you after a huge battle I know you could have died in?! What am I supposed to think when they tell me they'll patch me over to the hospital?! Tell me you're all right."
"I'm fine. Al's fine. We're better than fine. A little scratched up but" – he had to raise his voice over her exasperated whine – "really, I was worse off coming out of the fifth lab. They're having us rest awhile, but we'll be home soon, I promise."
"They're having both of you rest awhile?" she asked quietly.
He knew what she was asking, and he didn't exactly want to give her a straight answer. Not because he wanted to keep her in the dark, but because he wanted to see her face when she knew for sure. Still, the hint he dropped was pretty obvious. "When we get home, there's a good chance you're going to cry."
"Really?"
"It's possible."
"Oh, Ed." It sounded like she was getting choked up already.
"Hey, I said maybe. You're not going to know for sure until we see you again."
"Yeah . . . about that," said Winry. "Granny was wondering whether you might – well, whether you might come home within the next week."
"Why?"
"Ed . . . your dad came home."
"And he wants us to come out there? He knows we – wait, shouldn't he have told you we're all right?"
"That's just it, Ed. Granny found him by your mother's grave. He's dead."
"What? No, that can't be." All Ed could think of was when he'd offered to give his life for Alphonse. "When he said he had just enough – I didn't think he was –"
"I'm sorry, Ed."
"I can't believe it. Four and a half centuries and now he's gone? I . . ."
"He was happy, Ed. He was smiling when she found him."
For some reason, he wasn't really surprised. "I hope that means . . . he and Mom are in the same place."
That comment seemed to surprise Winry. He supposed she thought he'd be more vindictive than that. "Well, Granny at least wants to bury them in the same place. The funeral's on Saturday if you can make it."
"I'll see what we can do," he told her. "It's not likely they'll let us out of here, but maybe . . ."
"It's okay, Ed. You should wait until you're completely better. He wouldn't want you to screw up your recovery."
"I guess not."
"Did . . . did something happen? This is the first time since we were kids that you've been able to talk about him without cursing."
Ed snorted. "What, you think I don't know how to show respect to dead people? Not like he wasn't as good as most of my life anyway. But I'm still allowed to appreciate the fact that Dad didn't turn out to be completely useless!"
"You called him Dad."
"He was my goddamn father! Why shouldn't I call him that?"
"You're obviously not as bitter about him leaving as you used to be."
"Oh, shut up. I still think it was a dick move."
"Despite the fact that . . ."
He used up his philosopher's stone blocking the father homunculus's attacks. He offered himself for Al. He made the transmutation circle that brought your soul back into your body so we could have this conversation. "Shut up," Ed repeated.
Winry groaned. "Fine. But you're going to tell me everything when you get back."
"Fine. I will."
"Fine." After a moment, she said, "You'll call me when you're ready to come home, right?"
"Yeah, I will."
They exchanged farewells and hung up. Ed wandered back into his and Al's hospital room, unsure how to break the news. He ended up being, as he always was, blunt. "Dad's dead," he said when Al asked what was wrong.
"What? How?" After Ed explained how Pinako had found him, Al sank back onto his pillows in disbelief. "I know he'd drained most of his philosopher's stone, but I had no idea he was close to dying . . ."
"He told me he had just enough life left," said Ed. "Enough to bargain for you."
Al went pale. "You didn't let him."
"I promised you we wouldn't use a philosopher's stone," said Ed. "Do you wish I had?" Ed knew it wasn't the most fair question. In hindsight, it was more pragmatic to use a life that was already fading than a person's ability to do alchemy.
Al's gaze dropped. "I don't," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," said Ed. "I'm not."
Al tried to convince Ed to go to their father's funeral without him, but Ed refused. It wouldn't be the last time Ed told him that when they went home, they would do it together.
They stood at their parents' graves a month later. Their father's headstone read "Van Hohenheim" and nothing else, which they supposed was just as well. Even Hohenheim hadn't known exactly what year he'd been born in, much less expressed any desire to have his abnormal lifespan made public. In death he would be known not as a living philosopher's stone or the Western Sage, but as Trisha Elric's love.
Pinako had given them the notebook she had found on him when he died. It was written mostly in Xerxian and Xingese, but Ed and Al were certain it contained research notes. Decoding it would be a taxing endeavor, but one they planned to take on.
"We ordered the books the other day," Al said to the headstones.
"Al's learning Xingese and I'm learning Xerxian," said Ed.
"Granny says learning foreign languages out of books is asking for a huge headache, but we're up for the challenge."
"And it's not like those notes of yours are going anywhere, Dad. We have all the time in the world." Ed pulled a photograph out of his pocket. It was of him, Al, and Winry. "I just want you to know," he said as he laid it on his father's grave, "that no matter what happens, we're a family. I won't leave them. I'll always be there for them."
It wasn't the last family photo Ed left on Hohenheim's grave. Not by a long shot.
