"It's the children the world almost breaks who grow up to save it."
― Frank Warren

Allen stood at the train station, a neutral expression worn on his face as he waited for Fuhrer Mustang. His sister was sitting on the bench, watching the crowds as she played with her hair with obvious boredom. He had really put her out involving her like this, he knew, but it wasn't that they were going on a trip that bothered her. No, more like the stunning lack of information about it - he didn't so much as tell her anything beyond "we've been invited to go on a trip" and then later on when to get to the station.

They had only been in the military academy for a shade over a month, and they were already off somewhere? It had been an extra couple of weeks after being informed until now. And then the drill sergeant started going particularly tough on her and didn't say why. She decided to view this unexpected trip and the hard training as connected.

With a sigh, she looked up to her brother. Getting people into odd situations was her job wasn't it? It was normally her to drag Allen into these things. But now it seemed she was on the receiving end of this.

And she didn't like it one bit.

With another displeased groan, she questioned her brother, "Who the hell are we waiting for anyways?"

Allen shifted and glanced back to her. "Just someone I met," he answered with a sly smirk.

Lucille twitched. Oh, so it was like that, was it? "Care to elaborate?"

"In a place like this?" Allen shot back, a hand out to gesture to the station and all the people waiting for their trains. "I'd have to be crazy."

"And you aren't?" Lucille retorted.

All her brother did was let out a long sigh. He turned to speak, but just as he opened his mouth a different voice spoke up instead.

"There you are."

Right away, Lucille looked over to the approaching group, and then she felt her jaw hang open. The Fuhrer, his family, and a couple of soldiers who were probably acting as body guards - one of which definitely looked to be a seasoned veteran. Quickly, she brought her hand up to salute, and she felt a nervous bead of sweat at her hairline.

The Fuhrer momentarily was bemused by this as he said, "At ease. You weren't waiting here long, I hope."

"No, sir," Allen replied, "we weren't here too long."

Lucille looked even more surprised by the fact this didn't look like a mistake. "A-Allen? Can't I ask you something?"

"Sure wha-!" She grabbed him by the ear and pulled him back a few feet all while he grimaced and reminded with an alarmed tone, "Hey, don't tear my earring out, sis! OW!"

Mustang and his wife watched with blank faces. Somehow this bickering didn't surprise them as much as it should have.

She let go and asked in a hushed but furious tone, "Why the hell didn't you tell me we'd be going with the Fuhrer and his family?! And when the hell did you get the time to go through all the security just to meet him?"

Allen rubbed at his ear, checking to see if his earring was pulled out. No blood, that was good. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you!" He answered quietly, "You flip out, I didn't know what you'd do. And since I got here, I've been keeping in touch with the man. He was in charge of dad, the Colonel that Uncle Al always brought up. If anyone knows what happened then he might."

Lucille simply stared in shock. She knew exactly what he was talking about. The nightmares their dad had. The flash backs. When they were very little, it didn't even strike them as odd - they just didn't care. But as they were getting older...

It had been about when Allen was seven or so when he started to see how bad his dad's nightmares were. It had been a stormy night then, and they heard a scream in the night. For a few minutes, those two laid in the dark, frightened and unsure whether they even heard it - but it resounded again, and Allen got right up to investigate. Lucille climbed out of her bed to follow her brother down the hall, her small hands holding onto her brother's wrist as she tried to tell herself there were no monsters in the dark hallway.

It had come from their parents' room. And Allen stood at the slightly cracked open door peering inside before their mom called them out. "Allen? Lucille? What are you two doing up so late?"

Cautiously, Allen pushed the door open and he and his sister stared in to see their mother sitting on the bed, and their father laying just behind her with eyes wide and staring up to the ceiling. She had pinned down his hands to the bed, and her wrist was just starting to faintly bruise. That scared Allen, and he wondered if his parents were having a fight; if they hated each other.

"Mommy, what's wrong with daddy?" Lucille asked from behind her brother.

Their mother glanced down at their father, and, seeming to decide that it was safe, let go of his hands. She answered calmly, "Nothing, sweetheart. Daddy was just having a bad dream."

"Did dad hurt you?" Allen asked.

To that question, their mother rubbed her wrist and shook her head. "No, he didn't hurt me. He was just scared."

Lucille tipped her head to peer past her brother's back. "Why is daddy scared?"

There, Allen saw her eyes glisten with forming tears; she blinked them away before saying gently, "Well, he's been hurt and scared a lot."

"Will he always be scared?" Lucille questioned.

She looked back down. Her next words were forced. "Don't be silly, he'll be better before you know it."

But he never did get better...

"Does that make sense to you?" Allen asked quietly.

Lucille looked down. "So all this because you want answers?"

Allen nodded. "I'm sorry, sis."

She took a deep breath and then hit his arm. "You idiot. Still could have said something."

The two siblings turned and faced Fuhrer Mustang, and walked back over. Allen politely dismissed the conversation with a "Sorry, there were some things that hadn't been settled. We should be fine though."

Lucille nodded quietly, still unnerved by the fact this was the leader of their country. What was she to do? Act as if they were old friends?

"I see," Mustang said, and held his hand out to the younger sister. "So you must be Lucille? Allen's told me a bit about you."

After a few seconds of hesitation, shocked at what was happening, she took his hand and shook it, "Yes, sir, I am. Actually, don't expect him to be so up front like this, he's usually pretty quiet." She glanced back at Allen a moment, who smirked - yup, he was definitely getting back at her. But why with the Fuhrer involved?! Is he insane? Somewhere in her mind, she sighed with exasperation. He probably is.

She let go of his hand, and Mustang smiled calmly. He didn't seem like the cold and serious workaholic that she always imagined. In fact, if anything, he seemed understanding and sympathetic. While she knew he was in his fifties, there was a sort of youthfulness to him. Yet, at the same time, some sort of darkness lurked in his eyes, the silent pain of someone who had seen far to much for their years.

Just like her father.

The Fuhrer then went ahead and introduced the rest of the people with him. His wife, Riza, who wore a neutral expression and had her hair cut short. His daughter, Irene, who looked to the floor quietly - apparently she decided to come along after all. Then there were the two men posted for security. Captain Havoc being the old one, who grinned a bit in greeting with an unlit cigarette between his lips, and Lieutenant Deller, who seemed to be scanning the surroundings with some paranoia.

"It's nice to meet you both," Riza said as they went to get on the train. "My husband has mentioned a lot about you. So how is Edward doing these days?"

"Our dad's been doing well," Lucille answered, following everyone up the steps onto the train. "I mean, he's never to thrilled about maintenance on his leg, but I don't think anyone would be."

"He never was, you know," Mustang replied, "I remember a few times we had to send him back because he skipped out on it."

"If he tried something like that now, our mom would probably hit him over the head with her wrenches," Lucille said, trying her best to be casual.

Captain Havoc snickered a little bit. "If I'm thinking of the right person, then I'm not surprised. Who's your mom?"

"Winry Elric," Allen supplied without really seeming to think much of it, but he saw the smirks between Mustang, his wife, and the Captain, and he guessed they were acquainted with their mom too.

He had to wonder though, where were they headed?

"When you are guilty, it is not your sins you hate but yourself."
― Anthony de Mello, One Minute Wisdom

As the summer afternoon slipped into night, Irene stared out the window of the train for a long time with a clear lack of interest in the rolling hills that were starting to come to view. This was what it was like in the East. This was no city, just rural towns and farmland. It was too quiet, too peaceful. That just bothered her.

Then she glanced over to her father's guests, Allen and Lucille. The former of the two was asleep, his head lolled to one side, and a book was in his lap that he clearly wasn't going to finish right now. Before he fell asleep, she had noticed how he didn't turn the page, his eyes just seemed to skim over the same part of the page over and over. Meanwhile, his sister seemed to be leaning against him to keep him from falling on her.

With a final sigh, Lucille looked up to Irene and asked, "You mind if I sit next to you?"

"Okay," Irene agreed, and pushed her bag to her side to make room. She watched Lucille stand up and carefully move her brother so that he was laying down on the bench. She took the book from his lap as she did, and dog-eared a corner to mark his place. The book was tossed behind him, and Lucille sat down. For a moment, the two girls sat in silence, as the older members of their group were sitting across the aisle and her parents seemed to be in some serious conversation that she didn't care to listen in on.

"So how old are you?"

Irene returned her focus to Lucille, who looked to her with wide and curious blue eyes. The leader's daughter turned her gaze down to her lap. "Nineteen. And you?"

"Eighteen." Lucille answered promptly.

To that, she blinked in surprise. "Really? You look too young."

Lucille groaned and hit her head on the back of the seat. With a deadpanned expression she grumbles, "Does everybody have to say that? I'm not a kid."

"Can you blame them? You're small," Irene stated, "if I were to guess I would say that you're about fifteen."

"Oh come on! Fifteen? I'm not that young!" Lucille said with clear frustration, and then she sighed, seeming to have a headache. "Really I'm not."

"Okay, don't let it get to you," Irene said in a flat tone. "So according to my father, Edward Elric is your father?"

Thankfully, Lucille took the bait to get off the touchy subject of her age. She stopped her grumbling rants to instead look at the other girl with a look of consideration. "Yeah, that's my dad. Why?"

Irene, though she didn't outwardly smile, clearly seemed a little brighter now. "I heard a bit about him. He sounds like he was quite the character as a child."

"I wouldn't disagree on that," Lucille said, "he's still one today... actually, our whole family's pretty crazy, now that I think about it."

"That sounds nice," Irene noted, "at least you have a brother. I'm an only child."

Lucille laughed a little and shook her head. "Trust me, what you're probably thinking having a brother's like is much different than actually having one."

"Isn't it like having someone close to you, who will always have your back?" Irene guessed.

"Uh, no~" Lucille said lightly, "actually where older brothers are concerned, it's more like having someone to shove your face in the mud and take your toys, but in the end they'll make sure no one else does."

Irene is surprised by this, but the only indication of it is the arching of her eyebrows. "I guess I never really thought of it like that... Still must be nice."

"Yeah, it is." Lucille agreed, and watched her brother sleep. He looked so calm and peaceful; absolutely innocent and undamaged. So unlike their father... If Drachma went to war with Amestris, how long until he was plagued with nightmares? How long until she experienced the same fate?

From the corner of her eye, she noticed one face turned in her direction. She looked to see Fuhrer Mustang was staring at her brother with a somber guilt in the depths of his dark eyes. He noticed he had her attention after a moment, and for a few quick seconds he returned her look. Lucille felt herself mildly disturbed by the many underlying regretful and sorrowful feelings that lit and clouded his eyes.

It was almost like he was trying to apologize for the draft; for what he knew would happen to her brother; for what happened to her father... Like he was pleading for forgiveness for, not only that, but all the suffering he thought was his fault and all the death he caused.

But what truly distilled a inkling of terror in the pit of her stomach was the knowledge that many, many years ago, he went to war - he killed more men than he could count. The fact he shouldered all that every day since made her feel ill with fear. Would she shoulder those regrets too? Would she find herself pleading for forgiveness?

Would she even be forgiven for willingly going?

"When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching - they are your family. "
― Jim Butcher

Allen blinked awake to the feeling of being shaken. He glanced up to Lucille with half lidded eyes as he pushed her hand off his shoulder. "What, sis?"

"We're at our stop," Lucille answered, "can you guess where we are?"

With a yawn, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Then he looked out the window, and he blinked with surprise before looking over to the Fuhrer, who was picking up his suitcase and politely helping his wife from her seat - he doubted she needed it though. "Sir, what is this?"

Mustang casted him a confused expression, "What? You don't recognize it, son?"

Allen looked back out the window and then over to the Fuhrer again as he stammered out, "Yeah, but... What the hell's...? Why are- I thought you were going on vacation!"

With a casual shrug, the older man's response was, "I'm taking a break. I'm also visiting an old subordinate."

After a couple seconds, Allen pushes his shock away for the moment to get his suitcase and follow the group. They had gotten off at Resembool Train Station.

They didn't get a ride from there, and instead walked up the roads and soon came to the point where they were no longer paved, but instead just dirt. In a matter of ten minutes or so after that point, Allen saw the house in the distance, and his eyes lit up.

It wasn't long after that that they found themselves within earshot of hammering. Allen looked up to see someone on the roof, probably patching up the leak that Uncle Al had mentioned a couple days ago over the phone. As they came closer, he caught sight of the long ponytail hanging down one shoulder. Just then the old dog, Luke, noticed them and started barking as he rushed to greet Allen and Lucille. The person on the roof looked down to them. It was early morning and they were in the shadow of the house, he clearly couldn't see them well because of that.

"Who's there?" The person on the roof called out, standing up. There was no question who it was. That voice was impossible not to recognize.

"Dad! It's us! We came back to visit!" Lucille called out.

Their dad seemed still as a statue for a moment, and then he finally spoke up, "Lucille? Allen's with you too? Who are the others?"

Before either of his children could respond, Fuhrer Mustang smiled and answered in his usual plain tone, "Hello again, Fullmetal."

Allen could have sworn his dad's eyes became wide as dinner plates, but he couldn't tell since his face was too shadowed. But he didn't miss the faint "...Colonel...?" and the sound of the hammer in his hand falling onto the roof. After some time in dead silence, he seemed to finally pull himself from his shock, "And the rest of you?"

"Hey Chief!" Captain Havoc called out next, grinning.

And that was that. Edward took a step forward, but tripped and stumbled. They all watched as he tumbled down the side of the roof right off the sloped edge, where he landed in the bushes on the side. The group rushed over to help him, startled by his falling, and found him rubbing his back, cursing under his breath.

"Figures that does nothing to him," Captain Havoc noted with a sigh of relief.

Edward stood up on his own and looked face to face, "Just what the hell is this?! Havoc, you were paralyzed from the waist down! How are you walking?"

The Captain smirked, but the younger members of the party looked to him surprised, not knowing about this. "A certain doctor healed my spine and I went through some serious rehab for several years to walk again. It's definitely worth it if I surprised you that much."

Very slowly, Edward nodded, seeming to accept this with some knowledge that Allen lacked. Perhaps he knew who this doctor was. Then he looked over to Irene and Deller. "I don't even know who you two are."

The Lieutenant saluted, "Fullmetal Alchemist, sir, I am Lt. Deller. I am here as security detail."

"You don't need to call me by that, you know? I'm not an alchemist anymore," Edward told him seriously. He then looked over to Irene and crossed his arms. "That still doesn't explain you."

Irene kept her eyes turned to the ground. "I'm Irene. I believe you know my parents very well." She then looked to Mustang and Riza, and that seemed to drop a serious look of shock on Edward's face. He looked at the two older people, and then a sly grin came onto his face.

"I knew it." He said finally. "You two had something going on."

Mustang sighed. "And everyone else thought the same thing with you and Winry, but you denied that too."

"And you had a kid," Edward added, "good for you."

"And so did you... Two..." The Fuhrer said, "And you didn't even think about telling any of us."

"I told you I wasn't going back," Edward said.

A twitch of frustration passed the Fuhrer's features. "You could have called. It's not that hard to dial a few numbers!"

"But it is a pain going through all the clearance just to talk to the leader of a nation," Edward retorted.

"Even a letter! For God's sake, Fullmetal, I would have liked to know that you started a family!" Mustang snapped back.

"Well I don't see any letters from you," Ed threw back, "what makes you think I'm going to take time out of my schedule to write to you if you're not going to do the same!"

As the two bickered, Havoc leaned over to Allen and Lucille, who were watching with shocked faces, and told them with a snicker, "Seems they've gotten themselves in one of their old arguments."

"This happened a lot?" Allen asked.

Havoc nodded, still watching the two. "Actually, this one's pretty tame. You should have seen how many times they wanted to strangle each other."

"But they wouldn't do that," Riza added flatly. "It might not look it, but these two do care about each other as friends."

Allen nodded, and watched the argument continue. Then something very strange happened.

His dad just stopped talking. He just was staring at Mustang.

This clearly confused the older, who knitted his brows in confusion. "Fullmetal? What are you-?"

"Your eyes," Edward said, quietly. "They're..."

Mustang smiled. "Yes, I can see. You would have known that if you kept in touch."

"H-how?! When?"

"The same doctor who fixed Havoc's spine repaired my eyes. He did so a month or so after you left Central, actually." Mustang answered.

Edward seemed a bit unsteady on his feet then, and he leaned his hand against the wall. "Doctor Marcoh..."

"That's the one," Mustang confirmed.

The front door opened then as Alphonse peered outside with a tired face. "Brother, maybe you should just wait to fix the roof until later when the sun's-" he blinked, staring at the bunch, and smiled, "Oh, hello, Colonel."

At that reaction, Edward looked to his younger brother. "Al! You knew that the bastard was coming here?!"

Alphonse looked his brother deviously, "Know it? I planned it with him, brother."

"Traitor," Edward grumbled childishly, crossing his arms again. "Doesn't even warn me..."

Meanwhile, Mustang was grumbling at being called "Colonel" and then "bastard" and a lack of respect from them. Riza seemed simply bemused by the whole encounter, and Havoc clearly found this entertaining at the very least. However, the four youngest people of the bunch were still confused and dumbstruck, and simply said nothing at all.

After everyone settled down, they went inside and sat in the living room. Alphonse went off to the kitchen once everyone was situated - Edward gave up his usual seat on the couch for the ottoman, letting Mustang, Riza, and Irene take the space instead, Havoc sat down on the chair, Allen and Lucille sat beside each other on the love seat, and Lt. Deller stood aside as he felt it fit to let everyone get reacquainted. Alphonse came back with an old tea set on a tray and put it down on the coffee table. With no open seats, he went to the dining room and came back with one of the chairs, which he sat backwards in with his arms resting on the back and his chin pillowed on his arms.

Edward, who had kicked his shoes off when he came in, pulled his feet up and crossed his legs on the ottoman. "Alright, I want to know what this is all about. Now. Al?" He looked to his brother, who perked up a little.

"Well, recently the Colonel and I got back in touch, and we thought it would be a good idea to see each other again." Alphonse explained simply.

"And does Winry know about this?" Edward questioned. Allen knew just why. A lot of their yearly income was from the automail prosthesis, and while the wine that his dad sold was actually starting to become a bit more lucrative as a business, it was only really there to cover the living expenses. That allowed the prosthetic parts to be cheaper, so people who needed it could better afford them.

"Of course she does," Alphonse confirmed, "We just didn't tell you."

The older brother hung his head dejectedly. "What the hell...? Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because I wanted it to be a surprise for you," replied the younger.

Lucille then looked to the Fuhrer and then back to her dad. "It's okay, nobody told us either."

Edward looked to his kids, and Allen nodded in confirmation to this. Mustang held his hands up defensively as he explained, "I didn't know if they'd call you with the news."

With a defeated sigh, Edward returned his unforgiving gaze over to Mustang. "You know, if it weren't for the fact you've got your eyes back, I'd knock your lights out right now."

"I'd expect nothing less of you, Fullmetal." The Fuhrer replied simply, but there were some undertones of sarcasm, which his old charge picked up on with no problems.

"And would you quit calling me that already?" Ed said lowly with a frown, "I left the military... what? Twenty five years ago? The Fullmetal Alchemist is dead."

"You can say that all you want, but as far as I'm concerned you're still him, alchemy or not," Mustang replied. "And even if I didn't consider you Fullmetal any more, that doesn't change what the people still think. To them, you're still 'The Hero of the People'. Are you going to correct everyone who refers to you by the title the're familiar with?"

Allen could see his dad's jaw tighten as he retorted, "Once upon a time, I'm sure you were the same way, 'Hero of Ishval'."

There was a tension in the room, and the two Elric children looked between their father and his old superior, wondering who would snap first. Finally, with a cough into his fist, Alphonse stood up and spoke up with clear intention of ending the dispute.

"The others should be up soon, I think I'll go get breakfast started." Alphonse put a hand on Ed's shoulder, "brother, do you want to help?"

Edward sighed and made no protest. He followed his younger sibling into the kitchen, leaving his guests to sit and settle down.

So here's a new chapter. In this, we learn a tiny bit about Irene, but most of it is about Edward and Mustang. Actually, to be honest, there's a lot of focus on these two canon characters specifically, because they have major impacts on their children. Especially in this arc of chapters that we're getting into.