Disclaimer: The original anime Hagane no Renkinjutsushi and the movie Shambala wo Yuku Mono are based on characters by Arakawa Hiromu, with writing by Aikawa Shou. Characters, settings, and events have been adapted without authorization or approval, and I am making no profit from their use.

"Home Again"

"And, ah..."

All heads turned to the furthest corner of the room, where Major General Saulnier cleared her throat and tapped her pen slowly on the table before looking at Brigadier General Mustang.

"I take it that you believe this rabbit-hole story?" she asked.

The echo of shuffling papers and the scratch of pens filling the silence in the council hall was doing little to take the edge off what had been one of the most harrowing half hours in Col. Blackburn's military career. He'd been on battlefields, had held his position and faced down enemies, but he'd never been the type to attract attention. He certainly didn't remember doing anything that would get him the kind of attention that involved being summoned without notice by the eleven members of the Council of Generals (with the Fuhrer Oliver H.P. Halifax himself also in attendance) to hear Brigadier General Mustang recount what he had called a folktale from this other world - about a girl named Alice having a series of bizarre adventures in a place the storyteller had called "Wonderland".

Well, he wasn't quite sure what he'd just heard, as the story had been more than a bit bewildering, but he was even less sure why he'd been called to hear it. All he'd done was redirect Lieutenant Colonel Elric (it seemed the Fullmetal Alchemist had been promoted in his absence) to the office of Internal Security, where Roy Mustang appeared quite content to have taken responsibility for the situation.

Unnervingly content, really.

Blackburn flinched at the sudden scrape of Marshal Lavochkin's chair on the floor, cutting through the quiet room like a shot. Even from the other side of the room, the Marshal's otherwise silent dissatisfaction was enough to make him sweat; but when he turned his head slowly back to the witness table, he could see that Brigadier General Roy Mustang stood at ease, facing General Saulnier's question without any hint of concern. He'd only met the Brigadier a time or two before this, always in passing. That had been quite enough to terrify him, mostly because he'd never understood what made the man so special. In the hallways, the hum of the air changed when he walked by, and his career was a legend. It wasn't every man who made Brigadier by thirty, let alone getting his rank back by thirty-four after talking his way out of accusations that he'd killed Fuhrer King Bradley (better than half the officers were sure he'd done it, too) and the irrefutable fact that he'd been responsible for about one and a half coups d'etat within a two-year span.

And now he's in charge of Security!

But even if Mustang could do that, Blackburn still didn't know how he could stand before the leaders of the military and testify that Elric had returned through a rabbit-hole. Whatever spark it was that made the Flame Alchemist legendary, at least he could be sure he never wanted it for himself.

"What's not to believe?" Mustang asked. "From the reports during the invasion three years ago, it was clear that many people on 'Earth' have developed mythology of this sort around our world."

No fear, no worry. If he had to put any cast on that demeanor, it would have to have been 'surprise'. But then, the Brigadier General couldn't have been worrying that his story was ridiculous. Worries like that would have stopped him from telling that story in the first place, what with its vanishing cats and its mushrooms that changed your shape and size.

Was that meant to be here?

What the hell would make anyone think that the nonsensical fantasy land the Brigadier had described was meant to be here? Maybe he wasn't a genius like Edward Elric, but his understanding of reality did not include talking rabbits who made their burrows in 'natural rifts' that the Fullmetal Alchemist could use to travel between worlds. Nor any queen in any country in history who had kept an army of playing cards, for that matter. Surely someone would have noticed.

But beyond all those wonderings about incredible things, the point that Blackburn had the most trouble understanding was why he was here. In this room.

Blackburn shifted his gaze to Mustang's right to examine the newly returned Elric, who had yet to speak for himself. He was startlingly young to be a Lieutenant Colonel. Of course, Blackburn had known his story (everyone did), but now that he was sitting in the same room, it seemed that Elric was even younger-looking than the twenty-one years he understood the man to have. On the other hand, Elric seemed far more comfortable in front of the council than Blackburn felt himself. He'd yielded the floor right off to Mustang - to whom he said he'd given a full report and who'd be able to tell the Generals what they needed to know 'efficiently' - and then he'd started scowling. He was casting a steady glare over at the left-hand table, slouched just low enough in his chair that he could rest his right leg on the table rail.

If Blackburn wasn't mistaken, the young man was engaging in a staring contest with Lieutenant General Mistan Bloch, and the red-headed General was smirking back. Well, perhaps General Bloch knew something about the story that the others didn't? He was the Rubicon Alchemist, after all - the only State Alchemist to be named to the Council to date. But surely if he'd heard something amiss, he'd have mentioned it. The man hadn't objected once in the course of Mustang's testimony. As Blackburn understood it, that was practically a record.

"I am given to understand that opening such a gate takes an extraordinary amount of effort, preparation and skill, Brigadier General." Hakuro's voice boomed across the hall from his new seat next to the Fuhrer. His recent promotion to full General didn't seem to have helped his temper. "The idea that any man could stumble upon one by accident is, quite frankly, ludicrous."

"Well, certainly, it takes significant work to create a link between the two worlds," Mustang replied without hesitating. At his side, Elric turned towards the Brigadier, the first time he'd broken his staring match with Bloch during the entire proceeding. "As you, my honored colleagues, will know, it also takes a certain degree of effort, preparation, and skill - not to mention resources - to build a canal, but rivers do exist." The blond alchemist snorted quietly and tried to hide a smile behind his hand, but Blackburn could see the very edge of it. Mustang turned his steady calm on the sound of amusement, finishing with, "Mr. Elric has explained to my satisfaction that this kind of link is no different."

The surly blond, who had begun glaring at Mustang after his last sentence, sat up straighter in his chair and removed his leg from the table rail while the council members whispered among themselves. If the Brigadier General had noticed the change in Elric's posture, he didn't give any indication of it.

"Clarify that, if you would, Lt. Colonel Elric," General Saulnier asked.

The alchemist cleared his throat. "Well, that's a bit simplified, but he's got the basic idea."

"I think we'd all like to know exactly what we're dealing with here." Blackburn's own direct commander, Lt. General Fieseler, was seated closest to their end of the room on the right, and his loud voice was even more humorless than usual.

Elric sighed, leaning his head back and rubbing his eyes. "Let's see. Interdimensional tunnels, huh?" He sat up and scanned all the generals' faces. "The thing is probability density, all right? You see, the energy we use in transmutation here exists in both worlds, but it's not energy in the normal sense - potential, kinetic, whatever. It's... ah. Stuff. The scientists on Earth call it... well..." The blond coughed into his hand. "Since it's both a particle of matter and subject to interference patterns that're unique to wave forms, they call it a wavicle. It's a tiny piece of subatomic matter that can exist simultaneously on both parallel planes, 'cause it's essentially decomposed already."

All through the council chamber, the commanding generals of the military nodded slowly, some of them hovering a pen over a notepad without being sure what to write down and all of them with wide eyes fixed on the Fullmetal Alchemist. Blackburn, personally, had no idea what Elric was talking about.

"If you get a high concentration of wavicles in one region, like when an alchemist does a massive enough transmutation, matter that's filled with 'em gets pulled through the aether, but it's a one-way trip. Obviously."

"Perhaps you could explain to those of us who aren't alchemists why that's so obvious, Lt. Colonel," said Marshal Lavochkin. Blackburn had been wondering himself, but the Marshal, as the second highest ranked officer in the military, was in a much better position to refuse to be bewildered.

"Have you ever tried to stick two magnets, north end to north end?" Elric asked in reply. "This has the same problem. You can't reverse the polarity."

"And we should take your word on that?"

Elric looked at him like he'd never heard a more stupid question in his life. "Well, you can try to do it, if you want. I won't stop you. But where was I?" He rubbed the back of his head as he thought. "Right. Probability density. So, in its dormant state, the wavicle is technically... well, anywhere and everywhere. Being close enough to decomposition to be in both planes means you can't actually pin it down to any one spot in any one world. So, given a spot in either place, or a cross-mapped point in both places, there's only a chance that any given wavicle will be there, and it's not an equal chance for each spot. That's probability density - how likely it is that you've got a wavicle around. And when a region maps with a high probability density for a large enough number of wavicles, it's possible to have a convergence equivalent to what a major alchemical reaction generates, since all a transmutation really does is alter the probability density of the space around it. A natural convergence that size is rare, sure. Hell, before I tracked that one down, it was theoretical. But the story in that book matched the phenomenon way too well not to check it out. And so, here I am."

"Probability density," said Marshal Wright, the only man besides the Fuhrer who outranked Lavochkin. His voice dripped with incredulity.

But really, Blackburn thought to himself, if a genius like him took three years to study it, which of us will understand in less than three minutes?

"Yeah," Elric answered. "Probability density. What do you think made that Alice girl fall so slow?"

A hush fell over the council as the generals considered the alchemist's story and the calm smile on Mustang's face. Major General Saulnier tapped the end of her pen twice on the table, deep in thought, before finally saying, "So a canal and a river, as you said, Brigadier General Mustang. Please continue your report."

"Yes, Madam Secretary. I have nothing further," the Brigadier replied. "I merely commend Mr. Elric's creative use of local folklore in finding such a natural connection. His ingenuity in this case is not to be doubted."

"Certainly," said the Fuhrer, speaking up at last. "We'll need to study that book, of course."

"I want it back," Elric put in, sounding just as accusatory as he looked.

Mustang turned to look at him. Just looked, and the Fullmetal Alchemist, who hadn't had a word to say to Blackburn except 'You're not Colonel Mustang' glared back, but fell silent.

It was Marshal Levochkin who answered. "Your property will be returned when and if we determine that there is no danger to the state in leaving it unclassified. Thank you for your debriefing on the Lieutenant Colonel's report, Brigadier General. A few last questions, Lieutenant Colonel, if you would."

"Shoot."

As Mustang took his chair, he knocked Elric's with his leg so smoothly that from the council's position it would have been impossible to see that he'd done it. The blond alchemist's chair moved back a few inches, while the man himself shot a dirty look at the Brigadier and stood with some reluctance. Through the whole scene, Mustang studied his notes as if nothing had happened.

"Yes, Marshal, sir," the Fullmetal Alchemist corrected himself.

The Marshal leaned over his table, intent on the blond. "Now, if you appeared in the East as Brigadier General Mustang related to us earlier, then I assume you did not have to, ah..." Lavochkin paused to examine the notes he'd taken. "Find yourself trapped in a strange, deserted building, which you could only escape by shrinking yourself with a magic elixir so that you could fit through an unusually tiny door?" At the words 'shrinking yourself', Elric turned red in the face and nearly flew over the table. He probably would have if Mustang hadn't caught him by the elbow just as he started to move. He was settled again by the time the Marshal looked up to say, "I'm not aware of any residence fitting that description within Amestris."

"That's right," Elric growled.

"But you fell through the same passageway? With the floating furniture and the, ah..." He paused to check his notes again. "The marmalade?"

The alchemist's eyes narrowed at the Marshal. "Well, I can't actually confirm the marmalade. I didn't check the groceries while I was falling."

"Where exactly did you appear when you fell through your rabbit-hole?"

Elric answered plainly, straight to the point. "Small farm, 6 kilometers due north of Stravik Town. Big red barn. Can't miss it."

Leaning back in his chair, Lavochkin narrowed his eyes at the alchemist. "Falling through the same rabbit-hole as this Alice girl, I would have expected a more similar result." He might as well have said, 'You're lying,' the disbelief in his tone was so thick.

"Why?" Elric replied, shaking his head. "Sure, the probability density on the other side is basically constant, but they can't use alchemy. If a two-bit alchemist on this side decides to transmute a scuff off his shoes, it'll change how wavicles are arranged. Over here, we've got a state of constant minor flux." If what he'd said before were true, Blackburn supposed that could follow. "What do you think half the stuff I'm responsible for would do?" he asked and flicked his eyes toward Mustang, then toward Bloch. "Or what my esteemed colleagues have done, for that matter? I would've been more surprised if I did land where Alice had, assuming it's even still there. That story isn't exactly from last week."

The Marshal let out a heavy breath as the rest of the council thought in silence. At last Marshal Lavochkin turned to Marshal Wright, who gave a small nod, and the assembled generals all shuffled their papers to new business. Among them, only General Hakuro looked significantly displeased. "Colonel Blackburn?" Lavochkin asked, turning his attention toward the side table - followed by the eyes of everyone assembled in the room.

He dropped the pen he'd been holding to keep his hands busy and shot to his feet. "Yes, Marshal, sir!" Blackburn called out with a sharp salute. He heard his pen roll off the table and twitched at the clatter when it hit the floor, but he didn't step out of attention.

"Are you familiar with the region near Stravik Town?"

"Well, yes," he answered, confused. Of course he knew Stravik Town. He administered the East, so he knew all the towns -

Oh. No wonder they summoned me, then.

"I mean, yes, sir!" he amended.

"I'll still be overseeing the Colonel's work, Marshal?" General Fieseler broke in. It took all Blackburn's composure not to sigh in relief when the weight of those many highly ranked eyes turned away.

Lavochkin nodded. "He'll stay in your chain of command."

Blackburn's commander turned back to him to issue orders. "Find this farm and establish a watch," Fieseler continued. "We'll meet later to discuss your findings. This council will need to know if anything else appears, and what you can find out about the rabbit-hole. Whether there are any traces of it, any effects, anything or anyone drifting through. Whether it's a portal we can use to go the other direction."

"I'm sorry, were you not listening? It was a one-way rabbit-hole, Elric interrupted.

Mustang coughed quietly, which got him another dirty look from the blond but also got the alchemist to sit quietly.

"Thank you, General Fieseler," Lavochkin said, ignoring the alchemist's outburst, before he turned back to face Blackburn. "Anything you can determine, Colonel. But be discreet. This is a matter of national security."

"Yes, Marshal, sir." He saluted and took his seat, ready to be ignored again at last.

The Fuhrer shuffled his stack of papers into a neat stack with a sharp rap on the table. "Well, if there are no further points of discussion, allow me to welcome you home, Lieutenant Colonel Elric. The blond's upper lip twitched every time the Fuhrer or one of the generals used his rank. Your talent has been greatly missed. Our next matter of business is assigning you to active duty."

"Given his previous experience in the East- Marshal Lavochkin began.

Blackburn thought his heart might stop beating.

No, no, no! Oh, please, anything but that!

-and the particular expertise he brings to this matter, I feel it would be best to assign the Lieutenant Colonel to the new detail investigating this end of the rabbit-hole."

Elric's head whipped toward Mustang, and the Brigadier General acknowledged him with a cool nod and a wave to sit back.

"I disagree," General Bloch responded. "From the way the Lieutenant Colonel described the phenomenon, I'd say that sending him to that farm to do further study is the most absurd waste of resources I could imagine. His expert knowledge indicates to me that the only thing we can be sure of is that the rabbit-hole won't open in the same place twice. Any research team should be based in Central. He'll be far more use here, perhaps finding a way to track shifting probability density."

"Actually, Heisenb-"

Mustang delivered another subtle kick to the blond's chair, causing him to fall abruptly silent just as every eye in the room turned to face him.

"If you know something about tracking these patterns, Lt. Colonel Elric, you're free to share it with us," General Fieseler said.

The alchemist scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed grimace. "A guy named Heisenberg just proved that you can't actually track them. Measuring where a wavicle is changes how it moves."

General Hakuro pushed up from his seat with a snarl. "This is preposterous! Magic rivers of things that can't be seen or... or even measured, dragging people to other worlds? Am I really expected to believe this nonsense? Can you even prove these wavicles exist?"

"Well, yeah," Elric answered. He stood and clapped his hands while Mustang pulled his notes and pen off the desk with a smile. Blackburn had never seen Hakuro look more terrified.

Marshal Wright waved for Elric to stop. "That won't be necessary," he said, and turned to Hakuro. "This isn't a trial, John. It's a debriefing. The Research department can take up the science later."

General Hakuro sat back down, eyes still shooting venom at Elric. The little blond spitfire didn't seem intimidated.

Lavochkin cleared his throat. "Well, even if we keep Elric in Central to coordinate with Research, I don't think we can ignore the site where he came through. The investigation detail should still be sent."

"And we have no more important resource in this investigation than the Lt. Colonel," Fieseler added. "He should be assigned to Colonel Blackburn's office if not to the site itself."

Edward Elric looked from the nodding and murmuring Generals to stare straight at Blackburn. "What!" he demanded, standing and planting his hands on the desk with a loud metal thud. The blond narrowed his eyes, as if sizing him up and - so Blackburn would have sworn - coming to the visible conclusion of 'You're still not Colonel Mustang.'

That was so very, very true.

"Why am I reporting to him?"

The council buzzed at his outburst, but before any of them could answer, Roy Mustang spoke. His tone rang out clearly to every corner, even though he didn't seem to speak loudly. "Need I remind you, Fullmetal, that despite the leniency given you in the past and despite your time in another world, you are still a military officer?"

The alchemist sat back down, giving Mustang a less than satisfied look, but answering with only a moody, barely audible, "Yeah, I know."

Blackburn wasn't entirely sure that when the Fullmetal Alchemist said, 'I know,' there was any implication that the Fullmetal Alchemist agreed. He was more inclined to think that Edward Elric was never going to listen to a single word Blackburn said as his 'commmander'. He hadn't particularly heard any rumors that, as an officer, the blond did anything other than he was asked - except for that incident in Liore where the entire town was destroyed, along with most of a regiment, and the alchemist had disappeared with his brother (who was now a perfectly respectable officer in his own right). But that had been so counter to Elric's brilliant record that, when Blackburn had heard they'd gone on the run with no warning, his only thought had been, 'What, really?' And by the time the revolution happened, it had seemed Edward Elric was back to being a hero, again with no explanations. How treasonous could he have been?

Of course, the one dispatched to bring him in when he ran had been Roy Mustang.

That Roy Mustang.

The one who still had a brilliant military career after being court-martialed for assassination and treason, and who demonstrated a firmer hold on the young man sitting next to him than Blackburn would have known how to begin creating. He'd seen the kicked chairs and dirty looks, so he could tell - there was really no doubt - that calling Elric 'insubordinate' was wholly insufficient to describe his attitude. Well, perhaps not insubordinate, per se, but he answered to Mustang, if he answered to anybody, and the generals should have been able to see that from the way Mustang was staring him down even if they hadn't seen the Brigadier kicking the blond's chair to keep him in line.

But if he's going to be under my command, Blackburn thought, I'll have to try.

Elric let out a heavy sigh and pushed his bangs off his face. Mustang's victory, and Blackburn couldn't say he was surprised. More importantly, the stare-down had ended with Blackburn's loss, as the Fullmetal Alchemist squinted at Blackburn's pants in a way that made him uncomfortably aware of his lack of an alchemist's watch.

"However, if I may address one fact to my honored colleagues on the council," Mustang said. He paused just long enough for everyone (including Elric, thankfully) to look at him. "Edward Elric is currently assigned to Internal Security, and his services are still necessary."

There was a shuffling of papers among the generals as they tried not to look frantic, searching for Elric's record. Major General Saulnier held up a single piece of paper and handed it to a nearby guard, who carried it to Mustang. "I was of the understanding that he was on the list of the missing and presumed dead," she said, giving Mustang a chance to look at the document. "He shouldn't have been assigned anywhere."

"Why was I declared dead?" Elric asked, peeking around Mustang's shoulder.

The Brigadier sat him in his chair with a soft push to the shoulder, ignoring the question. "When he left, Mr. Elric was my subordinate, on assignment to destroy the gate in the other world. Until he came back safely, he remained on that assignment and under my command. He was among the officers I requested be transferred to my new office in Internal Security, which request was granted in full by the generals on this council at that time." Mustang handed the guard a different sheet of paper out of his notes for the council to examine.

Blackburn didn't have the transfer records to verify what Mustang was saying, but the Generals seemed to find the paperwork in order as they passed it around. Still, the Brigadier General couldn't have. Who kept a man on his books who had no known way of coming home short of the Apocalypse?

Apparently Mustang's faith had been justified, but even then -

He paused to study Elric as the young man watched the Brigadier General speak. From their short acquaintance, he hadn't realized that the blond could be so tranquil, or seem so...

Attached.

He had a strange, fixed expression that made Blackburn forget all about wondering why Mustang would have assumed that the Fullmetal Alchemist would be back. With that kind of look in his eyes, he could believe that the man would have torn the universe to shreds to get to Mustang's side. Blackburn had known - because everyone knew - that the Brigadier inspired loyalty in his men. He wasn't sure what he would name the look on Elric's face; only that 'loyalty' was too modest a word. If he wanted a shot in hell at earning the young alchemist's respect, he'd probably have to show Elric at least enough trust to believe, as Mustang had done, that he'd claw his way back across whatever impossible and incomprehensible lengths might present themselves - not that the question would arise, what with the Brigadier having gone out on a limb like that to claim him.

"He is an integral member of my staff, and I should like to keep him," Mustang said. "Moreover, while I will not contest that Colonel Blackburn should coordinate any investigation in the East, the knowledge that the Fullmetal Alchemist has gained during his mission is - as Marshal Lavochkin indicated - a matter of national security."

When Mustang took his seat and glanced at his fellow officer, Elric's strange expression changed to a scowl. "So now I work for you?" he asked, sounding unimpressed. But also not blowing up in a rage.

"Yes," Mustang replied, barely loud enough for Blackburn to hear. Elric kept his peace.

General Fieseler was the last to examine the sheet of paper Mustang had offered, and he handed it to the guard behind him after giving it a long glance. "It appears the Brigadier has a valid claim." The General looked to Blackburn's table. "Lt. Colonel Elric could be an asset to you, Colonel. Do you wish to make a challenge?"

Challenge? Are you kidding? Let Mustang have him!

He stood, saluting, and told the council without hesitation, "No challenge, sir."

"Very well," the Fuhrer replied. "Brigadier General Mustang, he's your man. Lt. Colonel Elric, thank you for your time and dedication. I believe the quartermaster has a uniform for you, which you can pick up before you leave today." He stood, and all the officers in attendance stood with him. "Dismissed!"

Blackburn, along with Elric and Mustang, stood at attention, holding a salute until every member of the council had filed out of the door by the head table. When the door shut, he collapsed into his chair, breathing long and slow. His brain felt numb as he sorted the papers, still not quite processing the trouble he'd only barely escaped - and only because Mustang had insisted on taking it himself. As far as he could tell, the Flame Alchemist had just saved him from an uncontrollable, pint-sized stick of dynamite with a very short fuse. He wasn't going to register a complaint, because now it was all over, and he could go back to his ordinary life.

As soon as he retrieved his pen.

He pushed back his chair, picking it up from where it has fallen when he heard Elric say, "Remind me why I have to work for you again?" from off to the side. "I've got my brother - I don't need my arm back. What if I wanted to go home and retire?"

"Oh, does that mean I won't have to see you in the morning, Edward?" Mustang shot right back. He didn't make even the slightest sign of reminding the blond again that he was a 'military officer'.

And... 'Edward'? That's awfully familiar.

But then, Mustang had been the alchemist's commander since he joined the military at twelve (Blackburn sometimes didn't like to think about the kind of place this country had been up until very recently), and he couldn't deny that their relationship didn't seem normal. They could have been friends. He turned to look at the two of them, Elric standing on his toes with his face three inches from Mustang's and glaring in a way that certainly didn't look like they were friends. "Oh, I'll be there, Colonel! Whatever you've got, I can take it." Blackburn tried to make as little noise as possible as he put his papers away. He didn't want to attract any attention from either of them.

"Good. Nine AM sharp, then. Oh, and..." Mustang straightened one of the lapels on the brown duster the blond was wearing. "Don't call me Colonel."

"I'll call you whatever I want, Roy."

"Don't be late," the Brigadier replied, sliding a pen into his jacket pocket. Mustang picked a single folder up from the table and walked for the door, but before he turned the handle he looked over his shoulder as if he'd just remembered something that had slipped his mind. "One thing, Fullmetal."

"Yes, sir?"

"You've always been a plainclothes officer. I see no reason to change that. The uniform isn't necessary."

The blond scoffed, leaning against table and turning to study the side wall.

Meanwhile, Mustang waited at the door. "Are you coming, Fullmetal?"

"I'm going to R&D, Roy," Elric said, pushing in his chair - possibly harder than necessary - and joining the Brigadier at the exit.

"Then we're both going to the third floor, aren't we?" Mustang opened the door and let the blond through, looking after Lt. Colonel Elric's shuffling, insubordinate footsteps. As soon as Mustang started through the door himself, he paused to look right at Blackburn.

With a smile.

"Sorry," he said, and left without another word.

Blackburn watched the still door for a good ten seconds after it closed, blinking and quite unsure what he should think.

'Sorry?' he wondered.

Sorry for what?

~/~

Edward had the big brown-wrapped package Al had gotten from the quartermaster (before the Colonel said he didn't need a uniform) balanced on his head as he walked back to his brother's place, since there wasn't a good way to get a grip on something that unwieldy. He'd been using one hand at a time to hold it in place, but now he pushed down on both sides so he could roll his neck and work at the knot at the top of his spine. It'd been one hell of a couple days, between shunting himself across parallel dimensions, hiking cross-country, and going to bat with the biggest jackass in two worlds against the entire Council of Generals. The chance to finally sleep in a bed he could call his own was sounding really good.

"They gave you a house?" he asked Alphonse.

"Yeah," his brother replied. "Since I work mostly in Central, the administration said I didn't need to live in the dorms. Most alchemists have houses."

They stopped in front of the residence, and Edward dropped the package off his head into his right arm to get a good look while Alphonse unlocked the door. Porch, two stories, lots of windows. Not as big as Winry's place was, or as their parents' place had been, or even as big as Sensei's place, but so what? It was subsidized housing in the middle of the city, and it was good enough. All they needed to do here was sleep.

"Welcome home, Nii-san," his brother said from inside the door.

Edward grinned back and stepped over the threshold. "It's good to be he-"

"Mrrow!"

He paused and peeked around Al, who had frozen in the doorway with his big smile and his eyebrow twitching.

"Mrrow!" he heard again, this time closer.

"Al," Edward said.

"Yes, Nii-san?"

"What was that?"

"A kitty!" his brother declared. "I-I always wanted a kitty, and they were outside with nowhere to go, and -"

"They?"

A tiny, furry head poked it's around Alphonse's leg, nudging his brother, then looking up plaintively. "Mrrow!"

Alphonse scooped the little cat up and held her tight to his chest. "Th-this is Ella!" he said, half hiding his face behind the cat's neck as he stepped out of the doorway. "And that's Boots on the chair there," Alphonse continued, nodding to a largish cat who looked up with a measure of disdain before dropping his head back on his paws to nap. "And Hijinx is over there by the -"

"Meow?" asked a fluffy white cat over by a standing lamp. He looked up at Edward with big eyes and turned his head curiously, padding across the floor to investigate the scene at the door. About halfway there, he ran into a yellow, bird-shaped toy and got distracted. The cat pounced immediately, biting at the toy in the most ineffective way Edward could imagine. There was no way his brother could have left something like that alone. Adorable and apparently helpless was a deadly combination.

Edward walked over to meet the cat, dropping his uniform on the floor nearby. When he looked back towards the door, Alphonse was holding the little cat named 'Ella' tight to his chest. "It's been my house, Nii-san, so I have a place to keep them! And I feed them, and I change their litter, and they've all had their shots and been neutered and everything!"

He'd wanted to see his brother so much over the past few years that all the feelings had piled up on one another into a big, dull numbness. Missing Alphonse, missing this world, missing... all kinds of things. That had been his every day for so long. Being back home was strange now, like the world didn't quite fit, but watching Alphonse defend the cats' right to stay made him feel more like this was home than he would have believed possible. That really was just like his brother, and - for the second time today - Edward couldn't have kept the smile off his face if his life depended on it. But since that bastard Colonel didn't really count...

Well, that was a lie. Roy had been ready to back him up the minute he stepped in the door. Had been waiting for him. It wasn't half a lifetime's dream like getting his brother back had been, but he couldn't deny that it counted. Not that he ever planned to tell the Colonel how much.

Seeing him smile, Alphonse grinned as well, and looked hopeful. "They're cute," Edward answered, reaching out to scratch Hijinx behind the ears. Then he asked, "They've all been neutered?" casting a questioning glance at the dainty little cat his brother was holding.

"That's right."

"So... Ella's a boy?"

Alphonse shrugged. "That's what the veterinarian said when we brought her in. I mean, him." The cat in question decided he'd had enough of being held then, and jumped down to the floor to groom. "But I'd already named him, you see," his brother finished.

Hijinx rolled over and started attacking Edward's right wrist instead of the bird toy, light pressure barely noticeable through the nerve relays of his automail - like the memory of being tickled. He picked the cat up, staring into his big, clueless eyes, and informed him, "You're gonna have to do better than that, boss," before setting the cat back down near his toy and standing to look for the kitchen. "Man, I'm starving."

"There's plenty to eat," Alphonse replied, locking the front door and pointing towards one of the doors out of the parlor. "The kitchen is this way."

"Thanks." He'd had a good meal last night for dinner at the inn where he'd stopped, but today he'd practically forgotten to eat, what with the heading to Central and seeing the Colonel and getting reviewed by those idiot Generals. He couldn't believe they'd fallen for that 'wavicle' bullshit - though now he wished he'd come up with a better name. Just his luck, that would end up in all the alchemical primers for the next thousand years, and he'd constantly have snot-nosed brats and their teachers asking him to explain it. The least he could have done was pick a cool name. Still, getting to watch the military chase his rabbit-hole for however long might make up for it, as long as they got him his book back. Mustang had let him hold on to all the pages he'd taken out (he'd threatened to hold them hostage, but hadn't done it in the end), so it'd be easy to put everything back together once Intelligence was done with it.

"Say, Nii-san..." Al broke into his thinking, pulling some cans of vegetables out of a cupboard.

Edward looked over, still rubbing his neck. That damn bed last night had been harder than a pile of rocks, but he'd been too tired from walking to think about transmuting it before he'd fallen asleep.

"I was just... wondering..."

"About what? Spit it out."

Alphonse stepped over to the refrigerator, turning a bit red in the cheeks while looking at his feet. "Well, about the note the Brigadier General gave you," he said at last.

Taking a seat on a stool by the counter, Edward propped his jaw on his hands and forced his face not to show anything. More than one of his research partners had asked about that damn note over the years. He'd gotten used to pretending it was nothing, but this was Al. His brother would have known it wasn't 'nothing' even if he hadn't been there when Edward had marched into the Colonel's office. That half-sheet of crumpled paper was complicated, though, for something with just over two dozen words written in faded ink. Couldn't Al have asked about magnetic forces operating in a tesseract? But his brother had picked the hard questions instead, and Al, at least, wasn't going to give up if he tried to dodge. "What about it?" he asked, turning away from the questioning stare to watch the big cat, Boots, stroll into the kitchen and over to his food bowl.

He could still feel Alphonse's eyes on him while he watched the cat eat, making a long silence feel longer. At last, his brother answered, "It looked important."

Edward shook his head with a bitter grin and jumped down from the stool. He couldn't sit still like this. "Roy was being a jackass, that's all," he said, sidestepping the question of whether or not it was 'important'. He always carried it around with him, sure, but why would that have to be anything but a reminder that he had somewhere to be? That was 'important' enough without the thing itself having some kind of hold on him. So what if he couldn't shake the memories of the stupid Colonel or the exhilaration quivering in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Mustang wanting him to come home? Those were, respectively, emotional and hormonal reactions on his part exposing an embarrassingly wretched taste in men, nothing inherent in the note itself. Objectively, that piece of paper and the words written on it were just Roy engaging in his usual jackassery and everything else was irrelevant to the question. Edward lounged against the counter next to the stove, watching Alphonse pull some kind of meat out of the refrigerator. "Look, why don't I help out with dinner?" he asked, moving for a change of subject. "Where do you keep the pans?"

"In the drawer under the stove." Alphonse pushed him the can of string beans along with a can opener. "What did he write? If I can ask."

He pulled a saucepan out of the drawer, shutting it with his foot while he shot Alphonse a confused look. "If you can ask?"

"Well, I didn't know if it might not be personal!" Al sputtered back, ears and cheeks burning bright red.

"Personal?" Edward scoffed, shaking his head. He thunked the saucepan down on a burner, back to his brother so Alphonse couldn't read his face. "Why would you think it was personal? I think it said, 'Well, if I never see you again, I suppose you're not the man I thought you were.' Something like that."

When he turned to pick up the can and can opener, Alphonse looked like he could see right through him. "Can I see it?" he asked.

"What's there to see? I gave it back, didn't I?"

"Nii-san," Al replied, asking with his eyes why Edward even bothered lying to him. "You picked it back up from the Brigadier General's desk."

Looks like I got caught, he thought. But as long as the Colonel doesn't think anything of it, I'm okay.

"Did I?" he asked, feigning ignorance for the moment.

Alphonse pointed at the right side of his jacket. "You put it in your pocket."

Pushing The Wonderful Wizard of Oz aside to get at the crumpled, faded, yellowed piece of paper, Edward drew out the note and turned it over in his fingers. "Huh. So I did," he said, and handed it to Al. "Go ahead. There's no big mystery."

Alphonse wiped off his hands before he took it, handling the paper like it was delicate or something. It wasn't delicate. Edward had crumpled it up at least a thousand times and pitched it at a trashcan as hard as he could, making wrinkles upon wrinkles that'd never come out no matter how long he kept it pressed between the pages of a book. He'd always missed the trash when he threw it, though. After a while, he'd stopped even trying and just kept it in his pocket or on his worktable. He didn't actually read it that often - he knew what it said.

Fullmetal:

I never thought 'Goodbye' would suit the Edward I knew. It's a word for old men with no reason to return, after all.

- Roy Mustang

After the first time he'd read it, the words were burned into his mind so deeply that he couldn't have forgotten it. When had the bastard even had time to write it, let alone slip it into his pocket? And even the shape of the letters had looked snarky, just like Mustang's voice sounded. Watching his brother read it, he could hear the sound in his head, mocking him, same as he had for three years. Before very long, his brother folded it back in half and handed it to Edward again. "So why did you keep it, then?"

"No reason," he said, sticking it back in his pocket where it always stayed.

I wanted to see Al. I wanted to see Winry. That was enough without wanting to see that bastard, too.

"Nii-san," Alphonse started again, looking more and more uncomfortable by the minute. "Nii-san, what do you think about the Brigadier General?"

"What is this, all of a sudden?" He caught himself before he got too defensive and tried to laugh it off. What do I think of him? What do you mean, what do I think of him? He's an asshole!"

"Ah, well..." His brother scratched his head again, suddenly very interested in looking at his own shoes. "What I mean is... You see, I've been thinking about everything that's happened today, while I was waiting for you and all, and..." His brother paused to take a deep breath, then looked him straight in the eye. "Nii-san. I know you two fight a lot, but you've got to see that Brigadier General Mustang cares about you. And you care about him, too. Don't you?"

Edward didn't answer. It was one thing for Einstein to ask, 'Is this 'Roy' your lover?' out of the blue, with no good reason. (Other geniuses were annoying as hell, it turned out.) Hearing Alphonse say things like that was another matter entirely. He couldn't write off his brother as someone who didn't know him that well, or as someone who didn't know the Colonel. When it was Alphonse asking, claiming it wasn't true came a little harder.

More than that, the Colonel had never been his 'lover' and never would be. Einstein had just been wrong. Al wasn't. Roy had made it clear enough enough that he cared what happened to him and his brother after the mess at Liore, and it hadn't been long after that Edward had realized he didn't just think Roy was a jackass. But 'care' could mean a lot of things. It was a complicated word, and he'd long since decided he wasn't going there with Roy Mustang of all people.

His brother wasn't going to settle for silence, though. "I just can't think of any other reason why you'd come to Central before going to Resembool," Alphonse prompted. "If you like him, why pretend you don't?"

He looked over his shoulder at the stove, then threw on his 'everything's okay' grin and walked over to slap Al on the shoulder. "What're you on about, huh? I don't like him even a little. I can't stand that bastard."

"Right," Alphonse said, pausing to study Edward's face before he decided not to argue.

What kind of question was that, anyway? Did he like the Colonel, did he not like the Colonel... Whether he cared or not, Roy was a fucking bastard, playing with his head and always knowing what buttons to push. Wanting to see him wasn't as simple as liking him - not that he did, not really. Not for a minute. It was complicated, and he wasn't halfway close to ready to start telling Al about it, and it wasn't important anyway. Now that he was back and was going to be around Mustang's ugly mug every day and hearing his stupid voice all the time, he'd remember exactly how much he hated them. His ridiculous sentimentality would be gone in no time.

Because he didn't like the Colonel, no matter how much he'd missed him.