AN: OMiGate, I opened this document up and it said "Document113"! O.e I think I should take a break and stop rereading my old stories now…..

Anyway, I've had this story idea for a while now (*cough*fourhoursnotincludingsleeping*cough*) and, yeah, let's see how this goes….

Warning: Manga Spoilers! All the way through Chapter *msgd* so you should just read it all before reading this.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything as it belongs to Arakawa and if I did own it, everything I write (that's not AU) would be true…. As well as many more Bunny Hump times. ^.~

Chapter I –

Edward Elric, age twenty-three, Full Metal Alchemist, Alchemist of the People, walked up the grand staircase to Central HQ at exactly Oh-Seven-Hundred-Twenty-Six hours on an early August morning, still feeling the morning sun beating down on the back of his neck, which was only partially covered by the ponytail he had on the crown of his golden blond head.

The Navy Blue cotton-wool mixture of his Military Uniform stuck in his left knee's joint as he advanced up the stairs, but quickly found itself unstuck as he moved the next leg. In the sparse daylight, the silver chain on his chest caught, sparkling in an almost unrealistic way on the white marble before him that remained, to this day, somehow unscathed by the years of Military Boots stomping up and down them.

Under his left arm a stack of papers rested, jostled every time he took a step but otherwise unaffected by the movement. In an attempt to keep his mind occupied he lifted his right, white cloth covered hand and brushed a part of his bangs back from his face, letting himself envy the feel of the nostalgia that passed through him.

This place hasn't changed, his mind told him as he took the last of the one-hundred-ninety-two steps to the top of the staircase. Those standing guard at the gate looked at him for a moment before the nameless foot soldier on the left saluted and the one on the right turned around, authorizing his entrance before saluting as well. Not a bit, even these two have their old jobs.

He nodded to them and waved off their salute with a quick one of his own, walking through the gates the moment they were open enough to. He couldn't help remembering that, as a child, he would have run up the side of the wall and passed through there without a second's hesitation but now, he couldn't bring himself to do something so childish. When he had fully grown, he had no idea, though he was sure it had something to do with working under Greed for that six-month time frame before the Promised Day.

He had to smirk and laugh to himself at the thought of that. He had lost his alchemy then; five years without it, he knew, seemed like nothing yet now, with newfound knowledge, he knew better. And maybe there was a newfound scar or two on his face to prove it, but it was true—he knew The Truth, had seen it itself as but a boy, and had known the moment that he had given up His Truth, that he would one day get it back.

Not that he was going to brag about it or anything (unless it was to Lieutenant General Roy Mustang, currently positioned in Central HQ with his old squad attached at the hip—especially Jean L. Havoc haven been restored by Doctor Tim Marcoh before he returned to Ishval, for good this time).

As he walked the halls of the building he had once detested, the average, low-ranking and new (as in instated within the last five years 'new') recruits that spotted him stood on the spot and saluted, having instantly spotted the chain on his chest. He waved them off, told them not to do it again and continued on, climbing the steps to the fifth level of the HQ, walking to the back of the first hall, as he had been instructed, and turned right, following his instincts as he read the amount of people in each room without once stepping in.

Those that were in this hall stopped to stare at him as he passed by. He gave a charming smirk to the ones he recognized and smiled warmly at those he didn't, feeling their stares on his back as he walked on, taking their looks with nothing more than simple passing, fleeting feeling. He had gotten used to the looks as a child over a decade ago; now, they were a welcomed part of the nostalgia that passed over him.

The door that stood before him almost made him want to laugh, the joy that bubbled in his chest almost too much for him to take as he read the room. From what he could tell out here, he knew that barely anything had changed; the desks had been shifted an inch to the left so they were now in the exact middle and it looked as if there were a few books spread out on the floor over on the right, near the file cabinets Breda used to hide on top of whenever Black Hayate had come into the office and, wait, speak of the devil, he could hear a dog yapping at the door right now!

It was harder to tell, since the door on the other side of the room was shut, but there it was, there was that familiar hunched figure, leaning on his hand as he read over the reports with a woman beside him. He couldn't see through the door—that's preposterous—but as he stood there, unknowing how he knew this, he shrugged to himself and remembered how he had been able to do that since he was a young boy—five, he believed, but maybe sooner.

Through the hard, mahogany-painted oak wood door he heard Breda yell "Captain, your mongrel wants to be taken out!"

He bit his lip for a moment as he heard a door open in the room and took in a deep breath, already half-hearing Havoc and Fury's laughter at the words as he calmed again and opened the door, fixing his hand on the brass door knob and pushed on it, not at all surprised to see Captain Riza Hawkeye standing at the other door and sending Breda a death glare through her placid mask.

With his entrance unnoticed, he was the only one to notice Black Hayate's escape. He stood there, watching the office spectacle for a moment before turning half around and spoke with a clear voice, saying "Sit." In that instant, Black Hayate turned around and faced him, sitting down on the carpet as he felt several pairs of eyes on him, watching him. "Heel." Within three seconds the dog was once again at his feet and he kneeled down, patting his head as he told him, "Good boy," and shut the door.

The air was thick as he walked by them, forcing himself not to smirk as he walked by, like a spotlight was placed upon him. Even Riza Hawkeye, one to not be taken lightly upon anything was taken by surprise as he shifted, walking by her without touching her before lightly shutting the door behind himself.

"You're five years late, Full Metal." Roy Mustang, The Flame Alchemist, remarked. His tasseled black hair was longer than he had last seen it at, but not by much seeing as how it was barely out of the man's thin, onyx eyes. As he spoke, he lowered his right hand from his face which, under those gloves, Ed knew had a scar of the same design.

"Well, when you said to take a 'left' at the end of the hallway, I got a little lost," he joked, tilting his head slightly with a sly grin so that he knew. Mustang chuckled before making a face and indicated the papers under his arm before muttering "I hope that's not for me."
"Well, then, prepare to have your hopes crushed," he grinned and walked forward, handing him the paperwork and coming back to sit on one of the pleather couches. Mustang flipped through the papers before unclipping the last fifteen-so and holding them up. "Very funny, Full Metal."

He grinned and shrugged. "Great way to start the morning though, ain't it?"

"Oh, very hilarious." He rolled his eyes and opened a drawer in his desk, dropping the blank typewriter paper in there before shutting it again and turning back to the much more reasonable five-piece document. Somewhere in the third page, his eyebrow arched before it fell back down and he nodded to himself and continued on.

Ed smirked to himself and laid back completely, relaxing his back and shoulders before shutting his eyes and focusing in on his other senses. The air was cool and relaxed in the room, but outside, seeping in from under the door, he could still feel the shock of the office. He felt the pressure change as Mustang looked up at him before he looked back down again, returning it to normal once more.

This is weird, Ed's mind told him more so than his actual thought process. He had always been able to read things without looking and he had always been able to, in a sense, sense the things around him, but it had never been like this. It had never been so easy to focus in on until now. Maybe it was because he was back at Central HQ that he was so paranoid—yes, that made sense. That was why, of course.

He couldn't shake the thought that maybe that wasn't it.

"How was Xing?" Mustang's voice floated through to him and it almost sounded as if he actually cared. Or maybe it was because he had spent so many years with him, learning his masks and the influx of his voice that he knew that he was at least curious in some bit, but, then again, that made him feel even more paranoid and he brushed it off.

"Well, it wasn't cold that's for sure."

The man laughed through his nose and his air shifted slightly, telling Ed that he had shaken his head for the moment. "Well, what did you expect? A Snow Wonderland? I'm afraid that's North, not East."

He snorted, this time and sat up, shrugging. "I was at the Emperor's Palace most the time, so I'm not really sure. From what I last heard from Ling, Ran Fan, Mei and Alphonse, the economy seems to be getting better, and less and less of their people have been suffering. Though, when I went there, I was still shocked by how many people were living out of shacks so if less people are suffering I don't want to know what it looked like before."

Through the mental picture he has of the room, he could tell that Mustang's eyebrows arched for a split second before he nodded once and turned back to the papers, pushing them away from him as he continued, "How's Alphonse?"

"He's getting used to the life over there ever since he married Mei-Chan."

"He and Mei are married? I had no idea."

"Well, technically it's not official yet. They're going to get him used to that life first, and they've planned for their marriage to be orchestrated in four and a half months, but Al's a little hurt that it's so far away. He's secretly coming to town sometime this week. We're going to do lunch. He's also talked with the Emperor and they've agreed for him to be able to come back and forth as a Negotiator as long as it's for what Xing needs from Amestris since he knows both places so well."

"Well, it's nice to hear that he's getting his life together so soon after finding his way out of the armor."
"Yeah. It was kind of weird; the first three days that he was better after all that sensory overload stuff he was still getting used to walking on legs and feeling stuff were ok, but by the fourth day, Winry and I were shoving him out the door, telling him to find his own way in life. I went to Creta for a bit when he first left, too, or at least that's what everyone thinks."

"So what's the truth?"

"I went to Xing, stopped at a couple places in Drachma in the round way place. Like I said, I was in the Emperor's Palace most of the time, training with Ran Fan and learning Alkahestry. I actually like the fundamentals of it better than I do Alchemy. It just makes sense."

"Actually, I do too. I'm not sure why. Whenever I read it or think about it, I feel more in tune with the Earth for some inexplicable reason…."

"I know, right? It's just mellower in a way of extremes. And, it's a lot more complicated in its simplicity. As well as the fact that it works on humans as a way of healing, too. It makes me feel secure about the others around me."

"I can name a few things that you just described in that sentence."

Ed tilted his head up finally and opened his eyes. "What would that be?"

"It's complicated in its simplicity."

He flipped him the bird for a moment before lying his head back down. There was a long pause before he asked "How've these past five years worked out for you, Lieutenant General? Actually, when I heard that rank, I was pretty disappointed in you."

"I've been to court I don't know how many times about the Promised Day. None of the charges held, but it got so fucking annoying."

Ed laughed and bent up enough to support his upper body with his elbows. "You'd think they realize that we didn't kill anyone and get over it already. I mean, seriously, our stories aren't going to change at all if you say 'and Fuhrer Bradley' or anything. God that was so annoying." He dropped his elbows, falling back down. "I finally finished with all my court dates yesterday. I was so pissed when I found out I had to go."

"I finished about a month and a half ago. Thank whatever deity is out there that it's over."

"You know we say this and it's going to turn out that we have another court date say, like, next week." He groaned.

"Don't jinx it."

Ed laughed sourly but couldn't help the smile that touched his lips as he stared up at the ceiling, luckily located at the top of the room. There was that stupid popcorn-crap at the top of it and the circulating fan had stopped wriggling every time that third panel spun around, so it didn't squeak anymore and he supposed that was a good thing. Above them, he counted six… no seven people walking across the ceiling, most likely either to meet with His Majesty the Fuhrer himself or to go to a Brass Meeting, since he wasn't sure if the latter was happening or not.

"You're despondent." Mustang finally pointed out. "Something wrong?"

He let out a deep sigh and shut his eyes again, counting Number Eight inwardly. He put his right forearm over his eyes before muttering "I signed my Divorce Papers yesterday. That's all. It's nothing."

"Divorce papers?"

"Yeah…."

"I wasn't aware you were married."

"Obviously not in the right way," he muttered quietly. "It seemed like the more I wanted to be around, the less she wanted me around. I don't get it." He waved his hand in the air and shook his head. "N'y pense plus. Il n'est pas important."

"Obviously it is important to you, so I refuse to forget it." Again he propped himself up on his elbows and furrowed his eyebrows.

"You mean you understood that? You do realize that's Xingese, correct?"

"Yes, I did understand that, and, yes, I do know another language other than Amestrian, Full Metal." His eyes were slanted a little more than usual and their onyx core stood only partially focused, meaning that the man wasn't amused with what he had said, almost as if it was an insult—which was anything but what he had meant it as.

"Don't get me wrong," he back tracked, shaking his head. "I didn't mean it as an insult—for once. It was an honest question. I wasn't aware that you knew Xingese—let alone can translate it so fast." He went so far as to balance on his core muscles, waving his hands in front of him and shaking his head twice more.

Mustang arched his brow for a moment before pointing out "I know you did background checks on us after you were forced to quit on the Promised Day. How did you not know?"

"I got the rest of the team all the way to three days before their birth," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand, using the right one to balance on the edge of the couch. Number Nine walked over their heads before he realized it was just Number Three walking back from wherever she had gone in the first place.

"I could only get you back to when you were eleven years old. There is literally nothing on you before that. And even so, at eleven it's just you doing something or other with Alchemy that alerted Berthold Hawkeye to you, even if you were left to develop it by your lonesome until you were sixteen. There isn't even a record that you were even in Primary School anywhere."

Dark orbs studied his face for a long time, flickering from one part to another before they shut and a white-clothed hand came up, resting on his forehead, hiding himself for that brief second before it dropped and he was all-mask all over again. "Your divorce; were you married to that Rockbell girl? Winry was her name, right?"

He gave a strained smile and nodded for a moment before asking—ignoring the fact that his voice was weak for this brief time and hoping that he did, too—"How did you guess?"

"The two of you always had a sort of chemistry, even when you were working so hard to keep it hidden from yourself."—He ignored it as his cheeks heated slightly and looked the other way—"You still love her, don't you?"—He wasn't given enough time to answer—"Then why did you agree to the divorce?"

He stared at his face for a while before letting his eyes drop to the top of the man's desk, unable to hold the contact any longer. "I would rather live with her being happy than her being miserable. If I was what made it that way, then I couldn't live with myself that way…. I thought about it a lot last night, too, and I think I was starting to feel the same way, but it's leaving my children that seems to be the hardest part."

"You have children?"

He knew his head snapped up and he knew that the smile on his face would be the warmest that the man had ever seen him with, from the time he was eleven to now, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Yeah; a little boy and a little girl—Leroy's four and Paninya's three. They're the two smartest kids I've ever met. Seriously! Leroy's in the first grade already. We had started him in preschool, but his teachers moved him to kindergarten and now first grade all in the duration of a month! Nina's not old enough yet, but with the way she's talking we're pretty sure that she's following the same track. Just before I left for here, while I was packing, I found a bunch of beginner arrays that one of them had drawn! They were just simple things—transmuting something red to green, you know, those beginnings—but they were perfectly drawn!"

He noticed that Mustang was smiling at him and felt the blush start to tinge his ears. He bit his lip for a moment before the older man raised his left hand, twirling it in a circle, telling him to continue on; that he was listening.

Ed released his lip for a moment and reached down, brushing the leg-skirt of his uniform back (he had tried to find a way to wear the uniform without it before he reread the Rule Guide and found out that State Alchemists were required to wear them), reached into his front pocket and tossed him his worn, brown wallet with the same black insignia that had been awarded to him and Al as children by Teacher.

Mustang watched him for a short period of time before opening the wallet and noticed the small pictures he had stored in the open space. He slid them out carefully and took the time to truly look at all three of them. One was of the boy—Leroy, he'd said?—sitting at a table, wearing a white, baggy shirt and a pair of tan shorts. He had short, golden-blond hair (antennae and all) and brilliantly curious gold eyes as he took apart some sort of metal contraption which lay before him.

The second one had a young girl, lying on her stomach with a light pink pacifier in her mouth. Her short blonde hair was gathered up on either side of her head, twined by small pony-tail holders not unlike the ones he had given to Elysia for her third birthday—except these were blue. Her eyes, too, were a stunningly bright blue that, as he continued to look, actually had flecks of Edward's gold in them, bringing them out in a dazzling way. Even now, looking at this picture of her on the hardwood ground with a pink blanket bunched under her, an odd camera tilt and the two smallest toes of an Automail foot in the far corner, he knew that this girl was going to grow to be a very beautiful young lady—very intelligent, too, only because she's Edward's daughter.

The last one had been turned around in the wallet and was obviously from a happier time. It was of Winry and Edward, the two of them standing alone in the room, the former with a cute yellow sundress, stripped with a light blue at parts with the young baby—Paninya?—in her arms, who was just barely looking at the camera with her pacifier as well. Edward was in a pair of dress pants and a pressed white shirt, holding in his arms Leroy, who was wearing almost the identical outfit. Their smiles were identical, each of them nearly shutting their golden orbs from the size.

He flipped it over and slid it back in with the other two in the same order before tossing it back. Ed caught it easily and slipped it back into his pocket.

"What did you say their names were?"

"Leroy Urey Luc Elric and Paninya Izumi Riza Rockbell."

"She has her mother's family name?"

"Yeah"—he shifted slightly and his gaze turned to the floor again. Three people in the office below us, his mind reported without his will—"She wanted to change Leroy's, too, but I couldn't handle both of them and, I mean, Leroy's starting to make memories that'll last the rest of his life, anyway; I figure that since Nina's so young, she would never remember having 'Elric' be her family name, anyway."

"That's rough."

Ed looked up after a moment and gave a shaky smile. "Hawkeye's about ready to storm in on us. We should get together for lunch or something and get caught up further. My treat."

"I'll think about it," he replied and motioned towards the papers on the corner of his desk. Ed stepped forward and took them before he advanced toward the door and opened it, instantly noticing the way the woman had jumped with her arm outstretched towards the knob. He stepped aside, motioned with his right arm for her to come in and made sure she did so before once more turning to Mustang and giving a small bow of respect. He turned to leave, not bothering with closing the door since he knew they would want to see it as he ducked under the First Lieutenant's and Major's (and the one Lieutenant Colonel's) air-filled lunges and placed his right hand on Havoc's forehead as he tried a redo.

"Heel," he ordered after hearing poor Black Hayate's whine. The dog happily jumped to his feet as he opened and shut the oak. The dog followed willingly as he trotted upstairs, giving the paperwork to the Fuhrer's Secretary and took the few letters that had been meant for the office before he left, trotted down the stairs to the main grounds.

This time, as he walked into the office with the still stunned silence on him, letting Black Hayate run in a circle before he went over to a corner and laid down in it, making himself comfortable, he turned to the others and gave them a cheery smile, saying, "Well, if y'all ain't a sight for sore eyes, I don't know what is."