Disclaimer: I do not own FMA at all. This is purely for entertainment purposes.

NOTE: I'm not bothering to overly-mangle my character's speech with baby talk. She's a two-year-old that's learned how to speak and, while a little advanced thanks to her memories, she doesn't have perfect grammar. Much like any other muscle, her vocal cords have to be strengthened with use. 'No' is easy but 'th' sounds and some of the harder syllable turns in words will get garbled. I just won't type it out as it would be 'widicuwous'. Instead of 'ridiculous'.

Reviews: I had a few comments noting how humorous it was for Roy to slip and fall when watching Dawn kiss a boy. Technically, the way I pictured it, he wasn't watching his feet and found either a ridge, tripped over his own feet, or slipped on gravel (can't remember exactly what I envisioned) when he was preoccupied with her kissing the kid. That meant he didn't quite face-plant (despite what Dawn indicated) as he would have partially caught himself before finding the ground with his face. Still, he fell.

-/-/-/-

Chapter 3: In Which He Leaves Me

.

The revelation that I was the illegitimate daughter of a one-day famous alchemist did not directly impact my life. It did, however, send me fairly introspective. I thought constantly about the future, about what would happen. I tried to piece together from hazy memory about a television show and a comic book so far in the past that I didn't really remember that much. I'd been a half-hearted reader at best and hadn't really had time for the anime. Either of them. It was a miracle that I remembered that there had been two of them. And now? I was in a world where my father was the Roy Mustang. Everything that I knew about this world lined up with that fact. This country was named Amestris and there was alchemy. Those were extremely broad strokes, I knew, but the truth was that he was Roy Mustang. The infamous Flame Alchemist.

If it wasn't the coup de grace of ultimate anime nerdiness, I will tell you this: It was suddenly freaking weird. The character known as a womanizer was completely bowled over for a baby. And said baby was incapable of doing anything for a family far to the east in a tiny town with some funny name because she was a baby. Edward and his brother had no idea the pain in store for them and the only reason I knew Edward's name was because it had been the same name of some annoying book character I'd not liked. The other one was a tin can eventually. The hell if I remembered. But I did know that they'd lose their parents (reasoning lost to me) and that Edward would be bound to the military minus an arm and leg. Unless the military required an arm and leg to sign up – which was doubtful – I think there was some plot point as to why he wound up missing his limbs. And why the armor brother dude was 'armor brother dude'.

Yes, I was pathetic… but if I was to be honest, time had behaved like moths and my memories were clothes moths loved to eat. What was before was fading more and more and I couldn't do anything about it because I couldn't write.

Which led to the next round of confusion. Which story was I in? Was I in one of the two animes, each with their own stories? Was I in the comic? Was I in a whole new variant of all of it? Was it a conglomerate of all three?

Was I just hallucinating or maybe making mountains out of molehills?

That I couldn't answer. Not to any satisfaction at any rate. Too many evil questions. Too many doubts. I was stuck and I couldn't do a thing about it. And, of course, my family noticed. Especially Dad. He realized soon after I'd stopped playing as much that I wasn't really focused on any of the toys I had. He worried I was sick. He checked my temperature. He even took me to the hospital.

I found myself before a young doctor with black hair and a serious face. "There's nothing wrong with her," he told my father after having checked me over thoroughly.

"She's behaving weird," Dad insisted. I looked at him.

"She's a girl and a baby. That happens," noted the doctor. To be fair, I'd not paid attention to his name.

"She's behaving weird for her," Dad corrected. The man arched a brow. "Please. Check her again?"

The doctor gave me a long look before giving a world-weary sigh. This man had no doubt seen more children come through his door with parents thinking something was definitely wrong with their child and 'one more checkup'. I understood him. I commiserated with him. I also had no intention to have him stick a thermometer back up my rectum again. Once was far more than enough, thank you.

I scooted back towards my father. "If she shows signs of actual illness, do come back," advised the man upon watching me get closer to my dad. "But she's physically fine. She's healthy. If anything, she's almost too healthy. Most kids I know have sniveling noses and the like. Genuine health issues. You're talking about a behavioral change and that's something I can't help with. You're taking good care of her and I don't see any outstanding medical issues."

Thank you, doctor. Time to go, Dad! "And other outstanding issues?" Dad asked hesitantly. The man sighed and looked him over. Not me. Him.

"Boy, I know you're a father but you're going to need to take time for yourself. If you don't keep your mental health up, it can affect Dawn."

He just called my dad a basket case. This was different. It almost made me giggle because I was used to being a bigger basket case.

"But, sir…"

"Go. Have a good evening. Make sure you stop by the billing department before you go."

We were kicked out. I looked up at my father. He looked down at me.

"Well… second opinion?"

"No," I grunted.

"You're worrying me, Xiao-Hua. You really are."

I just sighed and was glad when he set me down so I could walk with him. Fingers curled into his hand, I toddled along next to him.

.

There were times that I loved being a baby now. Then there were times like these. I huddled in my father's lap, swaddled into a blanket, and shivering. It wasn't that cold outside but somehow I'd developed a fever and I was miserable. Currently, it was the middle of the night. Currently, it was him sitting on his bed propped against a wall and holding me close because I didn't want to lie down.

Not that I had any good reason for this but, unfortunately, I didn't want to. Baby reasoning.

He was fitfully dozing as I mumbled in my cocoon of blanket and shivered convulsively. I hated illness. I hated getting sick. And this was a definite carryover from my past life. My baby instincts agreed with my opinion, unsurprisingly. He shifted, rubbing at my back through my blanket, and stirred a little. "Xiao-Hua?" he muttered. "Feeling better yet?"

"No," I told him. He didn't take my word for it, of course, and felt at my face.

"Yeah, you're still feverish. I'm sorry." I sighed. He then shifted to lie down and I was positioned next to him. The smell of him proved soothing, like usual, and I breathed even if I wanted to fuss. I didn't want to be lying down. I really didn't. But I also knew that Dad needed to work in the morning and he did need some modicum of rest. By the time the sun had risen again, he was dead tired as he gathered my things up to go over to Grandma and Grandpa's house. I helped as much as I could but I was still a bit sick.

When we went over to the Edgecombe house, Grandma took one look at us and frowned. "Come in," she told Dad, who carried me all bundled in a blanket.

"Thanks," he mumbled but twitched in surprise as a hand came across his forehead.

"I'm amazed you're not running a fever," Grandma noted with a frown, checking his cheeks and then the back of his neck. "You look like you're completely worn out." Dad coughed in embarrassment.

"It's been a long night. I hope you don't mind looking out for her again today." The older woman scowled.

"You're going to work? Like this?"

"Yes?" he blinked. I was transferred to Grandma's arms, blanket and all, and watched as she grabbed Dad by the arm and dragged him into the kitchen.

"I don't think so. You're going to make yourself very sick if you keep working like you are."

"I have to work to help Dawn," he protested. "I don't like having to rely on others' good graces to support us!" Not that Grandma was listening. She settled me onto a chair and filled up a kettle before putting that on the stove. "Sarah, I need to go."

"You will sit, boy," she commanded, glaring as he half-rose. He immediately plopped down again under her glare. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured as he watched her prepare a mug of tea. I crawled down off my seat, dragging the blanket with me. Dad made to grab me but I moved out of his reach quickly. It did not stop Grandpa from managing to scoop me up as he walked in and I whined.

"Hey, Dawnie," he chided. "Why are you complaining?"

"She's been awake off and on all night," Dad sighed, running a tired hand through his hair.

"You look like you've done the same," Grandpa noted, eyebrows going high. "You alright?"

"He isn't. He's going to stay here today even if I have to embarrass him by spanking him myself," Grandma said sharply. Grandpa blinked. Dad looked worried as she turned back to the stove as the kettle began to sing.

"She wouldn't actually do that, right?" Dad hedged cautiously to Grandpa in a quiet voice. The older man looked at him, bemused, even as Grandma spoke up.

"You bet I would. Who do you think punished Abby when she was misbehaving? That big softy over there?" Grandpa chuckled at the affronted look on Dad's face.

"I didn't like punishing Abby," he admitted. Grandma settled a mug before Dad and looked at him expectantly.

"You're going to drink that then go up to the guest room and get some rest," she told him sternly. "Call in and let them know you're not feeling good and you need some rest." They stared at each other, Dad clearly not interested in backing down but seeing little option. Grandma was stern in her concern and perhaps unaware of how much that meant to him even if he didn't completely appreciate it in this moment.

Finally, Dad consented and did as told as Grandma took me. "And you, young lady," she advised seriously, "will need a bit of breakfast and then a lie down. If your daddy's tired, then you are probably, too."

After breakfast, Dad did call and then took me upstairs with him to bed. It was nice having a day where we were just together and nothing else involved but we weren't completely alone, either, as Grandma checked on us after she sent Grandpa off. I did sleep quite a bit over the day, fingers knotted into his shirt. His hand remained on my back unless either of us had to get up. The background noise of Grandma shuffling about and occasionally even coming in to make sure we were alright was nice.

I'd forgotten what simplicity was when I was an adult. I'd longed for the easiness of youth. Now that I had it again, I appreciated it far more. People don't usually get these do-overs. Only resets. I at least retained my memories in this respect and every minute I had was cherished.

Hopefully, I wouldn't be too jaded later on in life.

.

When afternoon came, Dad and I were both feeling loads better. So much better, in fact, that he and I were drawing on the kitchen table. He was practicing his circles, amazing me yet again. Geometrically correct circles were nearly impossible freehand and he did it with such a twist to his hand that it produced something that wasn't remotely egg-shaped.

I admit I mimicked him a lot, garnering wobbly, eggy circles. I wasn't interested in the inside lines. I wanted to be able to draw like that. And dad seemed very amused at my efforts. "No, Xiao-Hua. Like this." He lifted me into his lap from the chair I'd been kneeling in and then proceeded to do a near-perfect circle. I watched very seriously before attempting the same wrist and finger motion.

The result was something mostly circular but still eggy. Then Dad did another and I repeated copying him. It went on for a while even as Grandma seemed torn between bemusement and disapproval. No doubt teaching a toddler the beginnings of alchemy was frowned upon but Dad knew it and I enjoyed trying to copy him. It was a nice afternoon, one punctuated with snacks and a radio going in the background as well as the two of us helping Grandma on occasion.

By the evening, right before Grandpa came home, she hugged Dad. He froze in her grip even as I looked on in the midst of stacking blocks. "You are such a hardheaded boy," she muttered to him. "Why don't you listen?"

"Sorry…"

"Don't be sorry. Be smart. You're an alchemist, so use your head. When we're telling you that you need a break, you should take a little bit of one, step back, and give yourself a breather. Making yourself sick only opens you up to making Dawn sick and you being unable to do what you need to for longer."

He visibly stiffened at the words before worming free. She let him go. "If I don't work, then I don't get anywhere." He swallowed, not meeting her gaze as he looked towards me. I stared back, observing him carefully. "I… I'm…" He stopped before looking a bit ashamed. "Perhaps it's time I finally went for that training." The words startled me. Training? He wanted to go to training? When?

"You mean with that Hawkeye man?" Dad hummed slightly. I moved to him, frightened. Even if I knew he was supposed to be a famous alchemist and that logically he needed training, I wasn't prepared for the idea of him leaving me. Because, why would he take me with him? I was a child and would be problematic to work around. I couldn't be well cared for and allow him enough time to train. It made sense for him to leave me behind. That did not mean I took the idea well.

Even as I was staring down the barrel of my future with utter horror, my father was speaking. "I have no idea how long it would take but… I assume it would be safe to leave her here with you? Not that I'm abandoning my duty as a father but… on the path that I'm on, I'm not going to be able to do much more than I am right now. And that's not fair to her."

"Remember, it won't be very fair in her eyes when you go," noted Grandma. He looked to me as I stared back at him in worry.

"Daddy?" I questioned and watched his face close further, shuttering regrets and worries behind a façade that I saw instantly.

"If I don't, we'll… never be able to be more than what we are right now."

.

I saw the letters he wrote and I saw the replies to them. I saw that the negotiation itself was slanted in this Berthold Hawkeye's favor and I saw that there were some pretty stiff regulations about the entire thing. For one, the man cited that if Dad dared to steal his work or claim it as his own invention, he'd be discredited in the alchemist community for the rest of his life. For another, it was fought back and forth for the length of time to be under the man's tutelage. Dad wanted at least two years with month-long breaks every so often to come see me. He'd initially tried to hedge for me to come with him but the Hawk man said that he had no patience to deal with two children besides his own. Finally, negotiations were struck and I was at a loss.

I was going to lose my daddy to someone and something about the Hawkeye name bothered me extensively. It brought to mind guns, for whatever reason, and not the kind of disdain for them that one guy in that one army medical unit television show had for them when used on his patients. When I thought of that guy, I thought of martinis.

I didn't even know what was in martinis except for James Bond coolness. I think. I don't know. And something to do with genies. Seriously. I didn't know. I did have some experience in alcohol in my previous life and in this one as my family rubbed a little whiskey on my gums to dull teeth-cutting pain. I couldn't remember what was in a martini, though.

Alcohol aside, I had no idea why the Hawkeye name bothered me. I knew it had something to do with Dad but not at this time. I knew it was important, too. Something important for Dad.

Because of my troubled heart, I became cranky. For a generally genial baby, I was now notably misbehaving. Grandma dismissed it as 'terrible twos'. Dad suspected that it was because I knew he was aiming to leave me and guessed I was afraid it would be a permanent arrangement. Grandpa just said I was finally acting my age instead of as a little old lady and took to carrying me more with little jumps and bumps to get me to smile.

I did, in fact, smile. I even laughed. I talked, I walked, I played, and everything else like normal.

Except for the moments where I would stop and remember my father, the man I relied on and adored, would be leaving me for the majority of two years. The equivalency of what I'd already lived around him. For a child, that was practically forever. For me, it wasn't quite the same but close enough.

He realized it, too, because we spent more time together. Dad liked playing with my hair. Perhaps it was because I was an absolute pushover with someone working a brush or fingers through it or because I had hair that could be played with but when he wanted to just sit and be quiet he'd take a brush and comb my hair. He'd even play with it, doing silly pigtails or braids or even trying and usually failing to get it to go into a bun. He had a few barrettes and ribbons and things to pin my hair with, some of it I could actually keep in my hair.

And he played with my hair a lot in the evenings as I sat with a book in an effort to try and read.

Well, I knew how to read. Reading aloud was a little harder. "Th' pup-py bark-ed at th' bug to ask it to play," I read with a lisp, somewhere between bored and entertained. "An' th' bug crawled a-way. It made th' pup-py sad." It was a really odd duality. "Then th' pup-py saw th' bir-duh. He bark-ed to ask it t' play. Th' bir-duh did not want t' play an' flew a-way."

"You're doing very well, Xiao-Hua," complimented Dad as he delicately wove my hair into a long plait. "You're ahead of everyone else. Did you know that?" I moved to shake my head but the tug of my hair stopped me and he hissed slightly. "Well, so much for that braid." I stared over my shoulder at him. His dark eyes showed his annoyance.

"Sorry." The annoyance softened even as I ducked my head. He sighed and drew me close.

"You're angry with me, aren't you? For me having to go away?" I didn't respond which was a response all its own. "I promise it's not forever."

"But two year? I two year," I protested. He cringed. "It's really long!"

"I know. I know, Xiao-Hua."

"I wanna be with you." He combed out the ruined braid with his fingers.

"I want to be with you, too," he reassured.

"But you gonna leave," I accused. Dark eyes closed and pain was visible in his face even with my incorrect grammar. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stomp. I wanted to throw a hissy fit.

But I also knew that if he didn't go, he'd probably never be the alchemist Colonel. Being able to reason actually sucked. Because that meant I was aware of the fact I was behaving poorly and that I knew his going away for a while would help not only him but me as well.

It did not change the fact my greatest fear was that he'd leave me behind and never come back. I could not find anything in my memory that ever mentioned Roy Mustang as a father. He went on a lot of dates and he had game that I had admired to some degree. But I don't remember that and it terrified me to think he would go off and never come back. Because there hadn't been a mention of an aunt or anything that happened to his parents, either.

I was scared. I admit I was scared.

And I admit I behaved like an utter brat between these moments and the moment I knew he'd leave. Because if I behaved like a terror, at least then if he left I would know it was my own fault and not because he didn't love me.

.

Predictably, this got my butt busted and I squealed like I was being actually hurt. Bad behavior got bad rewards. And it was my dad that finally had to do it because I had deliberately upended a box of salt all over the floor.

Then I got timeout.

And I pouted and glared and… slowly grew bored in my nice little corner far from anything remotely interesting. But it did serve one purpose. I was able to watch everyone and I could sit still for the most part. It wasn't nearly as boring as trying to read children's books.

By the time I was let out of the corner, I was ready to get up. It was either that or go to sleep.

Melody grinned as she hoisted me up. "Ooh, you're getting big!" A quarter of my life had been thus far spent around escorts. The other three quarters were split between sleeping and my grandmother. "So, are you going to behave for your daddy now?" I wasn't sure what to say to that so I shrugged. "You don't know?" I did, actually, know. I just wasn't going to tell her that I was likely to misbehave again.

By default, I was going to misbehave again. I had way too much time to be pretty and perfect. That would be boring.

I managed to escape from Melody and the others. I climbed by myself up the stairs to the very top where Dad's room was. Technically, this building was three stories plus a basement. Storage in the basement. Kitchen and front room on the first. Second held bedroom, bath, and a smallish living space behind the 'rooms' for customers. Top room was little more than an attic renovated. And the only reason Dad and I had that one was because Aunt Chris didn't care to walk up all the steps all the time.

I passed her on my way up and she arched a brow at me. I paused to look back at her. "Where's your father?" she asked bluntly.

Aunt Chris was… Well, if I didn't know better I would swear she was a man in drag. She is the epitome of a husky, heavyset woman with too much makeup, black hair dye to hide her grays, and a heavy-lidded look that came off more as half-asleep disinterest than a seductive, smoky look. Speaking of smoke, she did actually smoke. Almost continuously. The entire place smelled of cigarette smoke. Even our room smelled of smoke.

"Up," I said, pointing to the stairs.

"Is that so?" I nodded. There was a moment when I wasn't sure if I could go on or not. "So, Dawn…" I watched her warily and she seemed thoughtful. "You're not an average child." Where was this going? Those eyes perhaps saw more than anyone else dared to see and that idea made me nervous. "Tell me, what do you see for the future?"

That was a convoluted question with many answers. I frowned. No average two-year-old could hope to knit that kind of idea together and I knew any answer I gave would be notable.

But I felt the urge to tell the truth. "Daddy will be…" I tried to put something to it.

"I meant about you," Aunt Chris asked. Smoke curled around her head. I frowned before speaking.

"I wait."

"For?"

"Daddy…" She nodded.

"And if that's not for years?" I looked steadily at her.

"I wait… for Daddy or for Daddy t' say 'go 'way'." The look in her face said a lot. I'd disturbed her. I scurried for the steps and ignored her staring after me. Emerging onto the landing, I realized Dad was waiting for me.

"You shouldn't have climbed the steps by yourself," he scolded. "It's dangerous." He ushered me into the room and I huffed before sighting the suitcase on his bed. It was half-packed. I froze at the sight before stumbling as Dad ran into me, having not seen me stop. He staggered before catching himself and looking down. "Careful, Xiao-Hua."

I moved and sat down on my bed, hands in my lap, gaze fixed on that suitcase. Even if I had told Aunt Chris I'd wait, it was still hard to see. It was still hard to accept.

Daddy wanted to leave in order to learn. I wasn't supposed to go with him. He saw my look and scooped me up. I hugged him, arms about his neck, and then he put me smack into his open suitcase. That surprised me.

He then tried to push me down into said case. "Daddy!" I squeaked, shocked beyond belief.

"I'm just trying to pack everything that would be important," he returned, still poking me down even though I was clearly messing up his clothes. His pokes made me giggle and his smile appeared as I laughed. "For some reason, the most important thing doesn't fit," he went on, stilling. I looked up at him in surprise. He scooped me up and sat me next to his suitcase. "So, that means I can't take that very important thing with me. Do you know who that most important thing is?" I hesitantly nodded. "Who?"

"Me?" He smiled and nodded.

"You. You're the most important thing. So, do you know what I'm going to do?" I shook my head. "I'm going to take this." He handed me a small booklet and I looked at the leather cover before he opened it for me. The first thing I saw was him holding me as a baby. "Do you know who that is?"

"You."

"And you as a baby." He smiled, turning the page. "And there's you again." He turned the page. "And again." Another flip. "And again." He kept turning them to reveal ten photos in all, all featuring me in some fashion or form. "Because I can't take you with me, I'll take these and trust your grandma and grandpa with you, alright? And I'll come back every three months for a week, okay?" His teacher hadn't wanted him to have a month in between training sessions so this was the compromise. I nodded quietly as he took the folder from me, closed it back, and put it into his case. He straightened his clothes back and I watched as he did so. "Do you want to make up a bag to take to Grandma's? So you can have a suitcase like mine?" I shrugged dispiritedly. He didn't let that get him down, though. "Alright. Let's do it." Into a distinctly smaller case went some clothes, Horsey (because, seriously, I couldn't invent a better name), and a few odds and ends. He moved to close it only to find me taking Horsey out. "Don't you want to pack it?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then put it back in the case," Dad told me. Since he had latched his case shut, I went after the latches. "Dawn." I looked up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Packing?" I offered.

"That's not your suitcase. It's mine." Well, duh, Dad. "You should put it in yours so you can have it."

I blinked at him blankly. "No." Now he looked confused.

"We might forget it if we don't pack it," he tried to explain. I went after the latches again only for him to stop me with a hand. "Xiao-Hua, what are you trying to do?" My fingers were nimble enough to snap one of the latches so it was partially undone now and I stared at it.

"Packing Horsey," I told him.

"In my suitcase?" I nodded. "Why?"

"Horsey stay with you?" I offered. He considered that before smiling gently.

"I could let him stay with me. Do you think you can be without Horsey for months?" I nodded. "Then I'll do it. If you need him, just let me know, alright? I can send it back or hold onto it until my break to return it."

"Okay." He poked me.

"Yes, sir." I really wanted to say 'I'm not a sir' but I merely parroted him instead. "Good girl." He undid his case and tucked the toy inside it. "I'll take good care of him, okay?"

"Okay." He didn't correct me this time as he latched the case back. Then he gathered me up into his arms and grunted and groaned like I was impossibly heavy.

"You're going to get too big for this soon!" he complained. "I won't be able to pick you up!" That was true and his dramatics caused me to laugh. His arms engulfed me in a hug and he kissed me and I knew all too soon I'd not have that for a while. It made me want to behave badly but I couldn't protest enough for him to stay. He was determined to help us past this current life and I couldn't get him to listen to me. But I couldn't rightly stop him, either.

So, as we bedded down for the night after our nightly baths, I was allowed into his bed and he held me close. Near the door, our suitcases stood. This would be our last night for some time.

I slept with him, kept near the wall to keep from falling off. I knew things would get better. I was certain they would. I just wish it didn't take time to do so.

.

To say Dad was loaded down the next morning was a bit of an understatement. I was sleepy when he woke and dressed me and the cases had to be juggled carefully as he carried me down the stairs. He muttered to himself constantly, taking each step one at a time instead of the more fluid walk he usually had. Not that I disagreed as I curled against his chest. I did not want to fly down the steps.

Children, by the way, are incredible creatures. Especially babies. I could practically sleep upside down and I was drowsing as he walked unsteadily down steps before leveling out. "You've got an armful." Aunt Chris. "Already going on?"

"Yes, ma'am. We'll get breakfast at the Edgecombe house."

"Right." There was a long pause as I remained slumped on my father's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, boy. And come back as soon as you can. There's someone that will be waiting on you and it won't be me." Dad's fingers tightened on the back of my thighs as I was half-perched on his arm. "That's right," Aunt Chris told him. "I might not have wanted her around in the beginning but she's family and I won't have you hurting her."

"You make it sound like I'm not your family, Aunt Chris," he chided.

"You're old enough to know better now," she snorted. "You don't get as many breaks." Dad chuckled and I listened to the sound through his shoulder as much as through my unhindered ear. "Now, get lost."

"Of course."

The progress down the last set of stairs was just as tedious as the first set but these steps were wider than the upper ones. Then it was out the back door and down the usual alleyway we traversed to the open streets one street over from the Red Light District. I hummed sleepily, mind drifting, as Dad balanced his entire load. He didn't try to unseat me so it was likely he was trying to 'stock up' as some might say. I didn't mind. I got to do the same thing.

Despite this, he still had to juggle two cases because neither had straps. He would have most likely still had to carry both even if I was walking because my case was a little too large for me to haul for any length of time. But my dad had what I would have called 'mom skills', that ability to juggle more than technically possible. But this was Dad, who had to also fill in for 'mother' as well even though Grandma helped quite a bit.

Once we got to Grandma and Grandpa's, they were already up and Grandpa relieved the easier of burdens by helping guide the cases onto the floor. "Had quite a load, didn't you?" he asked rhetorically. "Want me to take her?"

"No, not yet," Dad declined. "We've not had breakfast, though."

"Good, because Sarah made a pretty good breakfast. Griddlecakes and sausage and eggs." I perked up at the idea. Grandma's griddlecakes were good. Dad carried me into the dining room and sat me down in my chair. There was some fussing, mostly Grandma coming to kiss on me and tell me how cute I was. I was in a pink dress. Of course I was cute and I smiled at her for the compliment while offering a 'thank you'. I got griddlecakes, was told to be careful, and ate with gusto. Even if today would ultimately be a bad day, at least it started out nice enough.

We eventually got done and washed up before we headed out again. I was once again in my father's arms but this time he could use both hands to hold me up as Grandpa carried his case for him. Grandma walked unhindered. It was probably a fairly decent procession all considered and we walked under the early sun towards the train station. I knew that Dad had already said many of his goodbyes but he hadn't yet said goodbye to me. Or he was still saying goodbye as he'd hardly let me down for any length of time.

Once we got to the station, I was permitted to walk on my own and I took full advantage of it as I looked around the noisy place. Steam engine locomotives puffed on their lines and added a haze to the large, enclosed space that had been roofed in a combination of corrugated sheet metal and glass skylights. A latticework of supporting structure ensured it wouldn't fall in and there were lights bolted to the various beams rising to meet that latticework. There were two bridges going over the tracks with individual stairwells to different platforms, one for inbound travelers and one for outbound travelers. Unlike the airports of my previous life, there was no over-the-top security that prevented passengers from having their families meet them or see them off. A man checked Dad's ticket and pointed him up over the bridge to the appropriate place. There were a total of ten lines going through the station and six platforms, two of them singular and four doing double-duty, a train on each side. We climbed the stairs to the overhead bridge and I peered around before my eyes landed on something marvelous. I was immediately hooked up into Dad's arms.

"Don't wander off," he told me. "I don't want you falling or getting hurt."

I pointed. "Horses!" Sure enough, on the furthest platform, was a series of disembarking horses. The more passenger-oriented train cars were oriented towards the front of the station and nearer the engines. Baggage of any large or substantial size was typically offloaded closer to the back of the trains and would be trucked around to a secondary depot where people could pick their belongings-slash-shipments up. Or so I learned from my Grandfather who had cheerily told me some of what was going on.

"I guess she's just like any other little girl. Perhaps riding lessons are in order when she's older?" Grandpa asked of Dad.

"If I can afford it," he grumbled in return. "First thing's first. Alchemy apprenticeship and then get a place of our own." Grandpa snorted with laughter.

"Very well, Roy." We walked down the steps to the appropriate platform and I clung a little tighter to him. His train wasn't here yet. There weren't actually any trains on either side of the platform so that was easily determined. We settled on a bench that faced one particular side and I spent a few minutes cuddled into his chest before getting bored and sitting up in his lap to look around. He watched before engaging me with simple games, more for fun than for use. Clapping games, high-fives, and encouraging me to name the alphabet were a few of the games he engaged me with and I amicably went along even if I was bored with them. Those that wandered the platform smiled at us and Grandpa and Grandma were looking couple-y with Grandpa's arm slung about Grandma's shoulders as they watched and gave us time.

The sound of a locomotive's whistle going off startled me from my boredom and I flinched, nearly falling from Dad's lap. He yelped, scooping me up and tugging me properly into his lap. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes…?" I looked around and saw the puffing train coming down the tracks that we were facing. Dad's train?

"See it?" he asked. "It's big, isn't it?" I nodded and glanced at him.

"Your train?" Of course, even though I was advanced I still lisped a bit here and there thanks to less-than-developed vocal chords. I had troubles with odd switches of sounds, including the 'R' sound. It came out more 'twain' instead of 'train'. The letter 'R' just didn't like me for the most part. Same for the letter 'L'. 'L's played hide and seek with my vocabulary depending on where they were located in words.

Don't ask me to say 'ridiculous'. There's about two 'W's in there that shouldn't be and I'm missing an 'R' and an 'L'. It's very… widicuwous. And worthy of many cheek pinches.

"Yes, Xiao-Hua," he returned. "The train I'll be going on." I sighed and he smiled sadly at me. "I won't be gone forever." I grumbled, incapable of giving a decent response. Even if it wasn't 'forever', it was still a good chunk of my current life. A day was categorically long for a two-year-old. And in only a few months I'd become three, coinciding with his first return trip. For a three-year-old, a year was a third of a life. A month was a thirty-sixth of that life. I wasn't even fully three yet.

Despite the train being there, he didn't immediately get up and leave. He did sit with me and be with me as long as he could and it occurred to me that I wasn't the only one that would have difficulties being separated.

And then that moment came. The moment in which I had to let him go. I was given over to my grandmother and I cried as I lost my grip on him. He looked upset but there was a set to his jaw that screamed he was going to do it whether or not he or I liked it. He'd done that same move whenever he'd spanked me for being precocious and unsafe. I knew he'd follow through. I still begged and cried and pleaded for him to just not leave me.

He did after pressing a kiss to my forehead. I sobbed and fought against arms that wouldn't let me go. "I love you, Xiao-Hua," he told me as I clenched fingers into his shirt.

"Daddy!" I begged, incapable of stopping my ill behavior. I knew I was behaving awful. I knew that. And I sobbed out 'daddy' over and over before begging again. "Please don't!" It probably was a harder blow considering the lisp. "Please don't go!"

"I've got the pictures and I've got Horsey," he soothed, tears clearly streaming at my words. "I promise, baby girl, that I won't leave forever. I promise." I couldn't help but fear that. There had been no mention of a child. There was nothing to say he'd ever come back.

He disengaged my fingers despite my pleas and I knew more than a few people looked disapproving at my wails. I didn't care in any way, shape, or form. My daddy was leaving.

"I love you," he told me one final time. "Be good for your Grandma and Grandpa." He looked at them worriedly.

"Go on, Roy. We've got her," assured Grandma.

"Just come back safe… and in time for her birthday."

"Right." He smiled at me, pain in his eyes. One final kiss as I cried. And then he was climbing aboard the train and I lost sight of him as I was hugged against Grandma's chest.

"It'll be okay, Dawnie," she soothed. "It'll be okay."

"He'll be home soon," promised Grandpa, touching at my cheek. I just sobbed, wearing myself out more and more even as I fought to stay awake. But delirium would set in and I lost track of time, missing the departure of the train in the midst of my tears.

I had missed him going. Transferred into Grandpa's arms, I sniffed and hiccupped.

"She's wearing out," he murmured conversationally to Grandma. She hummed, stroking my back.

"Let's go home."

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