WARNINGS FOR: Language, violence, some sexual themes

A HUGE thank you goes to Wraithkonto for reading and reviewing my story! NOTE: one hundred cenz is equivalent to one hundred yen. One hundred yen is worth one U.S. dollar, so keep this in mind as you read. Realistically, some of the books Isabelle was going to read wouldn't be canon as they are from "the other side of the gate" but you know what screw it I'm not that creative. Again, any and all opinions are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!

-Elena

Chapter Three

Mother

Isabelle had forgotten completely about her birthday – her mind caught up on the events of the hours prior. But she did realize one thing out of the whole birthday ordeal: she was fourteen – the age of parental consent for the military.

Oh, hell, there would be no way her parents would even think twice about it.

She knew she couldn't ask right away, it'd be a blatant "No," without ever being a chance of another question. She decided to wait it out – wait until everybody was in a positive mood and when the chance was right, she'd strike. The chances were small, but she'd be willing to take anything; even if she's not placed as a soldier immediately, even if she was something as mundane as a secretary, she would still have access to the library, and she would easily be able to rise above her station and work her way up to the top.

She hadn't fallen asleep since the incident hours before, but she did rest her eyes. She could faintly hear voices beyond the door, along with footsteps. She turned onto her side, then she heard her door open and then pressure on the side of her bed.

"Hey, Isabelle," came a familiar voice as she felt gentle shaking, "Happy Birthday."

She couldn't place her finger on the voice. It wasn't her father, nor her brother, and it most certainly wasn't her mother. The voice was deeper than the boys in her family, and she turned to face the figure that shook her from her rest.

When her eyes focused to the light, she saw a face she hadn't seen in much too long. The surprise launched her to consciousness as she shot up with a smile, "Alphonse!"

"Uncle Alphonse!" Winry called from the other room. Her mother always insisted on formality when it regarded her children speaking to their elders. Her father, on the other hand, knew that he was family, and he didn't mind.

"Hey, Izzy," he chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her. She hadn't seen her uncle in what felt like forever, her heart feeling whole as he hugged her. He still smelled the same – Xingese parchment and a mint with an origin she couldn't remember. "How have you been?"

"I'm doing fine and dandy," she smiled as Alphonse stood up. "You came all this way for my birthday?"

"I've never missed being at a special occasion where I was invited," he shrugged, "I'm not going to start now, especially if it's for my favourite niece." He jokingly winked at her, and she rolled her eyes. She was his only niece. He stopped to look at her, his eyes widening a little in surprise, "You looked just like your father right then."

Isabelle sighed, "Alphonse…"

"Right, here," he reached into his pocket and tossed a coin at her. The girl had once told her uncle that if she had one hundred cenz for every time somebody had said that she looked like Edward, she'd soon have enough to buy the entire alchemy section in the Central library. He flipped another coin at her and said, "It is true though. You're looking more like Ed every day, while Marcus is starting to look more like Winry. It's like you two switched places from when you were children. There's only one thing stopping you."

"And what's that?"

The uncle simply tapped on the space of skin between his temple and the corner of his eye.

When Isabelle and Marcus were young, he looked like her father while she had a striking resemblance to her mother. As they got older and developing their own likings, however, that started to change as they morphed into their own appearance, both children having features of both parents. Sometimes, they even had some features of their uncle. Now, it's as though the parent genes decided to change their mind on the phenotype. Isabelle still had her mother's eyes. Marcus had his.

"Where's May?" Isabelle asked, her eyes curious and one eyebrow raised. It was a look that only she could have mastered. She almost did.

"May couldn't make it," he replied with disappointment in his tone. Her aunt May was always busy. She couldn't help it – she was the half-sister of the emperor, a princess of her own dynasty. She always had much to do when it came to her country, but she never forgot about her family. She'd still send presents and cards and they would write often back and forth, but Isabelle never thought it was the same as seeing her in person.

"Come on," Alphonse gestured his head toward her door as he put his hands in his pockets, "Your parents put together quite the surprise for you."

She smiled, kicking the duvet off of her body as she swung her legs off the bed and hopped onto the floor. She glanced at the clock, it was eleven in the morning.

Five hours.

As she exited her room, her uncle placed a hand on her back to guide her to the dining room. Presents were littered along the wall and the table was almost overflowing with a hearty breakfast. Muffins, mainly, as it was one of Isabelle's favourites, along with pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Her brother's birthday looked very similar to this on his fourteenth birthday. Some of his presents were even from people she thought only existed in her father's tales. She has yet to meet some of these people he dearly talked about.

The fourteenth birthday was an important one in Amestris, it was the age of consent. Consent for sex, drinking, joining the military, and in some cases, marriage. On the other side of the gate, this would have been the ages sixteen, eighteen, and even twenty-one.

"Happy birthday, Izzy!" Edward called out as she entered the dining room, his hands holding a plate he was starting to fill with food. It was probably hers, as she was the last one to wake up and everybody else already had their plates filled.

Isabelle smiled, "Thank you, Papa."

Whether she called her parents "mama and papa" or "mom and dad" all depended on the situation. She would normally call them the former when she was being casual or being told what to do; and also to retain her youth, as she knew it was quickly slipping. The latter, however, was when she would talk about them, or when things were formal or dangerous.

She would never have thought that one day those pair of words would sound unnatural.

"Come, eat," Winry said as her husband placed their daughter's plate of food in front of her seat. Isabelle sat at the end of the table, her parents sitting on one side while her brother and uncle sat across on the other side. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

They ate their breakfast and talked, the older Elric brothers clicked in a way Isabelle and Marcus never did, and she didn't understand why until the day they finally clicked in that way. Isabelle threw a glance at her brother, the one thing they wanted to discuss couldn't be discussed in public. Especially in front of the family that cared more about their safety than their own lives.

The night at the woods was the last night of the first chapter of her life. The second chapter would come in just a few measly hours. And nobody knew.

It was just five hours! Five hours left to put the sticks in the sun, but where are the sticks? What would they use to stop the sun – plummeting to the earth to scorch them all – if they didn't have any sticks? How would they even know to look for sticks when they didn't even know about the sun's fate? Some would survive with burns, many would survive with heat stroke, and a few would burn to death: incinerated to ash.

"Isabelle, dear," Winry spoke up as she stood from the table, "Don't you think it's time to open presents?" By this point, the two children had resorted to talking on their own while the adults held their own conversation. Something about international affairs.

"Sure, Mama." Presents were always Isabelle's least favourite time of any occasion. She knew they were in the middle of an economic depression, and while she knew that her family was getting by, she knew that things weren't really by the cheap. As a result, she always felt bad when she received something she knew was expensive, or when she received anything for that matter. Hell, she even started to feel guilt when her uncle would give her one hundred cenz for saying she looked like her father.

Alphonse handed a black envelope to his sister-in-law, and she passed it to her daughter. The name "Isabelle N. Elric" was written neatly in gold on the back. She opened it up, pulling out the card inside. It was thick; there was money in it.

Guilt again.

Her predictions were right; when she opened the card, two thousand cenz floated out from the paper. The card had multiple signatures on the inside, signatures that she knew well. It looked as though everybody had pitched in some money, so that made her feel a little better that it all wasn't from one person.

"Go on," Marcus said. "Read it."

"'Dearest Isabelle, if we payed attention correctly, it's your fourteenth birthday. Happy Birthday! None of us could decide on a present for you, so take this money and get whatever you want. Best wishes, Team Mustang.'"

The signatures each possessed little messages to Isabelle personally with their own specialized way of telling her happy birthday. It was a cute gift, fitting for the team to send her.

Edward looked over at his brother as he lit his pipe, "So, Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Feury."

"Brother, what about Riza and Roy?" He asked, confused that they even referred to themselves as Team Mustang when Mustang wasn't even involved.

"You know those two sent their own gifts separately. They know Isabelle more than the rest do." He leaned back in his chair as he smoked his pipe. As he exhaled, smoke exited through his nose and mouth, "Isabelle, spend that wisely."

"Yes, Papa."

"Ed, put that out!" Winry shouted, "You're going to make it hard to breathe in here, especially after we light candles."

Her husband groaned as he took another puff, then exhaled as he put out the flame. His pipe wasn't his.

"Here," Marcus said as he passed a small wrapped box to his sister, "It's from Thomas."

She felt a pang in her heart, and she knew her brother felt too. With what they saw the night before, the last person she wanted to hear about was Thomas. As she ripped open the wrapping, she wondered what was happening in his household. She wondered if they noticed by this point. She wondered if they sent somebody to look for his father's corpse. She wondered if they knew.

A little message was taped onto a box that said, "You read too much for information, so why not read for entertainment?" She opened the box, and it was a couple books that Isabelle had always wanted to read. Inside the covers were personalized autographs from the authors. She looked through the books, hearing occasional noises of wonder and Alphonse at one point piping up how much he loved reading "Mary Poppins."

"Tell him my thanks when you see him again," she smiled as she looked at her brother. He nodded, giving her a look that responded to her with everything she needed to know.

Winry handed her another box, a card gently tied underneath the ribbon with her name on it. She recognized the handwriting too fast; she wanted to cry. She looked at her mother with pain in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"This is Great Granny Pinako's handwriting."

The room fell to silence, an uncomfortable heaviness weighed on the family. Pinako had passed away a few months after Marcus turned fifteen. The parents knew she left a specific gift for Isabelle's fourteenth in her will, but this surprise hit the girl like a train. After a moment, the small Elric child began to open the card. She didn't read it out loud. She couldn't.

To my beautiful great granddaughter, Isabelle. I'm sorry that I couldn't make it to your special day, but know that I'm there in spirit. I love you, and I hope you're having a wonderful birthday, my dolly girl. Please continue to grow up into this remarkable young woman that I know you're going to be. With much love, Great Granny Pinako.

The gift itself was a frame, holding a picture of Isabelle and Marcus when they were about five and ten, sitting on the porch swing with Great Granny Pinako while she smoked on her pipe. The same pipe Edward now possessed. The frame was engraved with "Summer 1930," and Pinako's written signature with a drawn heart. And with this photo, she included a bottle of fine wine, whiskey, and a shot glass.

Isabelle had to take a break right then, pushing the present to the side and taking deep breaths. She felt tears stream from her eyes. It may have been four years, but it hurt like a motherfucker when she died. It still does.

"Oh, Isabelle," Alphonse said as he stood up and walked to his niece, pulling her close and holding her tightly. "She's in a better place."

She knew this, she wasn't stupid. Whatever this "better place" happened to be, she knew Pinako wasn't frail and in pain anymore, and that's all that mattered. She knew she couldn't cry again, not on a day she's supposed to be happy, and she was happy. But she was also sad. They were bittersweet tears – bittersweet, melancholy…

She pulled away from her uncle, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath. She looked over at her mother, who also had tears in her eyes.

"Both of my girls are crying now," Edward sighed as he stood up. "Now, we can't have that, can we?"

"Dad, don't," Marcus began before his father cut him off. This wasn't the first time this has had to happen, and thankfully, it was never in public.

"Hey, Al," said the other Elric brother, "You're going to be me. I'll be General Mustang."

Everybody, by this point, knew exactly what was coming. Alphonse dropped to his knees and began to walk around on his kneecaps. Isabelle never really saw this for herself, but her father used to be really short when he was her age. Her mother giggled, remembering the things she used to say, the most prominent memory being that she wouldn't marry somebody shorter than her.

"Colonel," Alphonse said in a high, squeaky voice. Things were always exaggerated when trying to make somebody laugh. Why is that? Is it the sheer insanity of the situation, or was it the fact that it was so far-fetched to the actual events? Either way, the voice made her giggle. They always stopped at the laughter, and this was no exception. "That was quick, Izzy. Normally it'd take a little more to make you laugh."

"I guess it's the fact that I already knew the outcome," Isabelle replied, wiping any wetness left on her face.

The rest of the family sat back at the table in their seats, and Winry handed her another present. There was no card, but the ticket on the box said it was from Paninya and Garfiel. Isabelle had met them only once when they took a visit to Rush Valley for Marcus to see what the city was like. She didn't really speak to them much, but from what she saw of them, they were kind.

Isabelle opened the box and all she saw was white fabric. She pulled out the fabric by two straps, and it unfolded into a long dress with ribbons of different colours still in the box. The dress itself was a simple peasant dress with extra layers of glittered tulle sewn around the waist. The tulle flowed to the bottom of the dress, split in the middle in the front of the dress. The ribbons were meant to be a sash, any colour she wanted would be tied around the waist, adding that much character to her elegance.

"Well, you can certainly tell who got the idea to give that to her," Winry chuckled. Isabelle wasn't really a dress person, but it was nice to have a simple gown for formality. "It'll look beautiful on you, babydoll." She handed her daughter an even smaller box, smiling softly when she read out the name of the sender.

Scar.

This was the one person she never met, her brother never met him either. Yet, he still would send presents to them. In a way, it made her uneasy, knowing that somebody knew her more than she knew him. Her family said he was a good man, but she was never told that he killed her grandparents, nor that he tried to kill her father and uncle. That bit of her father's story must have hit the cutting room floor – she would find that out later.

She opened the box, seeing an array of colours and coarse fabric. She pulled it out by the edge, it was a handkerchief. There was a small post-it note, with a small message: 'Little alchemist, it is tradition in Ishval that a handkerchief is given to a young woman when she becomes an adult. Now, you may not be an adult legally, but knowing your family, you are an adult now. Best wishes, Scar.'

"What does he mean by that?" Isabelle asked after reading the message.

"You're mature," Marcus said simply. He didn't get a handkerchief on his fourteenth. He, instead, got the traditional gift for boys: a scarf. The colours were very similar to the ones he had on his scarf, and she figured it was also done in a traditional style.

Alphonse murmured something to her mother, and she couldn't make out what it was, but her father reacted. "Al, drop it."

"Well, all thoughts aside," Winry immediately started to change the subject of their conversation. "We still have a few more presents to get through." She handed Isabelle an unmarked present for her to open.

When opened, there was a letter to Isabelle that simply read: Be prepared to use these, and hope you won't have to use it. He would want you to be safe. – Gracia and Elicia Hughes.

Behind the letter was a small, rolled up cloth, tied with a string. When she untied the string, the cloth unrolled to show about a couple dozen throwing knives. They were black and red, the handle looking like blood seeping through tar. One throwing knife stood out from the collection, and it clearly belonged on display. It was one that Hughes would use in his fights.

"Damn," Marcus mused, "Those are nice."

Hope you won't have to use it…

She knew her brother was named after Elicia's father, Maes Hughes – Gracia's husband. Marcus Maes Elric, saving the "Hughes" part of his name for General Mustang. He knew he would use it on his son when he would finally have one of his own. Isabelle has yet to know the story behind this Nina girl that she was named after.

It was apparently Gracia that inspired her mother to start her own apple orchard, making pies and selling cider. Apple cinnamon muffins were a common breakfast item in the Elric household. She's met with Elicia more than Gracia, and during those times Isabelle had shown a particular interest in weapons – staring at the knives that hung in a case above their fireplace.

Winry paused, taking a deep breath, nodding to herself a little, as if she was encouraging herself. She reached over and handed her daughter another box while her husband rubbed her back. This box was about the same size as the previous one, but it was significantly lighter. The tag read that it was from the Armstrong family.

She's met both Oliver and Alex, both of them taking a liking for the girl (Oliver especially), which is apparently a good thing. She opened it, seeing a card containing two thousand cenz, written with two different sets of handwriting on it. Each wishing their own form of happy birthday and their own message. They specified who sent what gift, as well. Oliver sent the money herself, which made Isabelle feel especially guilty, and the products on the inside were from Alex, who assumed she would grow to be like his baby sister. She would grow to be like his older sister instead. There was various types of expensive make-up, which made her feel guilty again, even though she knew their family was wealthy. She didn't let it show on her face.

The next gift was from Izumi Curtis, and the card was from Sig, her husband. One section of the card Izumi wrote herself, and it simply read, 'Don't be stupid like your father and uncle.' The rest of the card written by Sig, giving the girl a heartfelt happy birthday. The gift itself was a steel flask, with black leather wrapped around it, engraved with Isabelle's name. The adults sure are excited about me being able to drink, huh?

"This one is fragile," Alphonse said as he passed it to his niece, "Be careful with it. Ling and Lan-Fan specifically told me to make sure this arrives in perfect condition because of its fragility."

Carefully, Isabelle opened it, pulling out a porcelain doll that was personally crafted to look like her. It was wearing a black tank top and jeans with boots. It was carrying an "Introduction to Alchemy" book and its hair was pulled back into a ponytail, any leftover strands framing its face.

"It's beautiful," she gasped in wonder. She wasn't a doll person, either, but this was definitely something she was going to put on display on her nightstand.

"This one is from Roy and Riza," Ed said as he tossed a box at his daughter. The box jumped around in the air for a moment while Isabelle struggled to try and catch it until she finally did. "See, Al? I was right."

He nodded in response, watching his niece open the gift. There was of course, money – about four thousand cenz, which made her feel especially guilty. She knew the General was especially rich, but the depression… The box contained a diary with Isabelle's name etched into the cover.

Marcus handed a box over, "This one is from me."

"I told you don't get me anything."

"And I told you I don't give a shit."

"Marcus, watch your mouth," Edward leaned back in his seat even further, but this time, the chair gave out and he plummeted backwards onto the floor. Isabelle burst into a fit of laughter as her father screamed out, "Son of a bitch!"

"Ed…" Winry shook her head as she watched her husband roll around on the floor to push himself and the chair back up.

Isabelle opened the box, and inside was a small, brand new radio. She looked at him in shock, "Where did you get the money for this? This is incredible!" The radio was wood, shined and polished and still in mint condition in the box. It was the most beautiful radio she had ever seen.

"Drugs," he mumbled, "I sell hardcore drugs."

She examined the radio closely, the wood was stained, making it darker and its curves were smoothed out. Her eyes were wide with anticipation, he couldn't wait to get started with it. Then she ran over, hugging her brother tightly, "Thank you."

"Happy birthday, Izzy," he smiled in return.

"This one is from May," Alphonse said with a grunt, handing her a large, heavy bag and holding onto a box. The box must have been from him. She peeked into the bag to see stacks of books, ranging in size and density, but they were all related to one thing: alkahestry. "She wanted you to branch out from traditional alchemy, and she knew you showed an interest in this."

"Give her my thanks," Isabelle smiled, looking up at her uncle. He handed her the box he held. "From you?" He nodded.

"Hey, Ed," Alphonse peeked over at his brother while she opened the box, "My present is the best one."

"Okay, sure, Al," Edward chuckled, rolling his eyes, but the grin faded from his face when he saw his daughter's face light up in a way nobody had seen before.

Isabelle always wanted a camera.

She screamed in delight, bouncing up and down about the new camera she was given. It was small enough for her to carry it around in her hands, and it was state of the art. She looked into the box, and it came with many rolls of film for her to use. Edward glanced back over at his little brother, who was now smirking and said, "What was that, Brother? I was right?"

Edward turned his shock into pride, leaning back in his chair again, but this time, Winry shoved him back to where the chair was on all four legs. She handed her gift to her daughter with a soft smile, "It's not a camera, but I know you've wanted this for a while."

Oh Mama, that could be many things.

The box was an exceptionally small one, the bow bigger than the box itself. She carefully untied it and opened it, seeing a pendant held by a chain, a ring right behind it. The pendant was gorgeous – it was red, and it had black stencilling of a symbol on the front. The symbol she instantly recognized as the same one on the back of her father's red cloak. The ring was tourmaline, her birthstone.

"Mama, it's beautiful," she whispered in a hushed voice.

"It's a locket," she replied, "Open it."

It's a locket! Isabelle has expressed her desire for a locket as many times as she's said that she's wanted a camera. She opened the locket. On one side was a picture of Isabelle with her brother and parents, on the other was a picture of Isabelle with May and Alphonse. Both she considered to be perfect photos, as they contained nothing but pure joy. She wrapped the locket around her neck, clasping it to stay.

"Last one," Edward said as he walked to his daughter, handing her a thin and long box, "From me." He smiled at her as she peeled off the wrapping. "Just so you know, my present was better than Al's."

"Dad, good luck with that. He got her a camera." Marcus shook his head, crossing his legs to where his ankle wrested on the other kneecap. When the girl opened the box, all she saw was red fabric and buttons. She pulled it up by the collar and looked at it. There came a few gasps in the room. Marcus's eyes widened as he quietly said "nevermind."

It was a blood red jacket with black buttons. She thought it looked nice, yes, but she didn't understand how that could possibly be better. "Papa, it's really nice and all, but I still think the camera's better."

"No, stupid!" Marcus sat up straight, "Look at the back!"

She turned it around and saw the same design on the back of her jacket. She remembers the days her father caught her staring at his cloak, which was ripped to in multiple places and covered in dust and dirt. She said she wanted one of her own, and now she had one.

"I thought your jacket was starting to get too small for you," Edward smiled, "And besides, I think a jacket would look nicer on you than a cloak." He looked over at the younger Elric brother, "What was that, Al? I was right?"

"You know what, you win this time."

"Damn right I did!" Edward pulled a cheeky grin as his daughter hugged both her parents, giving them kisses. "Thank you, Mama. Thank you Papa. They're beautiful. I love you." They hugged her back tightly, telling her that they loved her too, and happy birthday.

She would discover that she would miss these hugs.

They had three hours.

Isabelle wouldn't stop taking pictures with her new camera, various people and items were captured onto a strip of film. Her favourite one would end up being one she took of her and the family on the couch – all laughing at something that Marcus said.

Speaking of the boy, he ended up leaving shortly after that photo was taken, telling his family that he was going to tell Thomas what his sister thought of the gift. He was gone for about a half an hour until Winry finally told her, "Izzy go get your brother. He's not skipping on this party."

"Yes, Mama."

As Isabelle left the house, the last thing she heard from her family was their discussion about politics. Thomas didn't live very far, about a five minute walk to the east, so it wasn't much time until she heard her brother and the other boy in his garage.

"–honestly think that she'd be okay with that?" It wasn't her brother's voice; it was Thomas's. The mention of a female made Isabelle stop with curiosity and listen, turning her camera to prepare for her surprise photo. Marcus, no matter the situation, was always somehow photogenic. Thomas, on the other hand, was awkward when it came to surprises. He was attractive, and photogenic when he planned his pose, but when he isn't ready, it's easy to discover funny faces and poses out of him.

"She trusted me with her secret, so I'll trust her with mine. I don't care if she's okay with it or not, I just need to get it off my chest. I can't hold it in anymore," Marcus replied, then his voice got serious. "Also, I have something to tell you…"

"Yeah?"

"So, you know those woods out west? The ones that are supposedly haunted?"

"Did you go in?"

"Yeah. With my sister."

There was a crash, as if he dropped things, and there was scuffling around, "Are you stupid? You could have gotten killed already, but you would have also gotten her killed!"

"We almost did."

There was a moment of silence, then there was noise of pain, like he let out a sob. "Please, don't ever do that again. Keep her safe. I know no matter what I say, you'll do what you want when it regards your own safety, but please keep her safety in mind."

"I know. I learned."

There was a pause, then there was noises she couldn't quite put her finger on. There was some rummaging, parts falling onto the floor and the sound of bodies hitting hard surfaces. She heard a moan, and the strange noises returned to her ears. Then, she jumped out, taking a picture and shouting "Boo!" while she giggled. She didn't see what was happening until after the flash. That's when she realized exactly what they were doing.

Both boys immediately yelped as they sprung away from each other. Thomas cupped his hand over his mouth, shaking on one side of the room, while Marcus pushed himself up to be able to stand on the other. Before she could apologize, Marcus pinned her against the wall, squeezing her shoulders so tight, it was painful. The camera crashed onto the floor, a piece of it breaking off the main body.

"What roll of film was that on?" He yelled at her, "You have to destroy it! Cut it out, rip it to shreds, burn it! I don't care, that picture can't see the light of day! Do you understand me?"

"Y-You're hurting me," she whimpered, trying to get him to loosen his grip, but he only tightened. She had never seen him so angry, but she had never thought it was possible to be angry and scared at the same time – and that's exactly what Marcus was. "Marcus, p-please! I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

"Do you?" He screamed, sending a wave of fear through her soul. She had to look away from him, her entire body was shaking, and she started to cry. She didn't know what the primary emotion was for the origin of her tears – was it fear or was it pain? Perhaps it was both, she wouldn't learn for sure the difference.

A hand was placed on the brother's shoulder, and both Elric children turned to look at the source, "Marcus, let her go." Thomas wasn't one to get angry or scared often, but the look in his eyes illustrated a fear Isabelle wouldn't learn about until much later. Marcus's eyes softened when he looked at his lover, then he looked back to his sister, still trembling, but making an effort to keep her crying at a low volume. That's when he realized the gravity of what he just did to her, and his entire demeanour shifted to guilt.

"Oh, Isabelle, I'm so sorry." He pulled her close and hugged her, holding her tightly, whispering apology after apology to her. Isabelle realized right then her crying was from fear – she had never seen her brother act such a way toward her. He was always gentle, like he was now as he held her.

"Isabelle, you have to promise us that you won't tell anybody about what you saw in here," Thomas said in a smooth voice as he bent over, picking up her broken camera and taking it to his workbench. He was oddly calm as he started to fix the camera, "And the film will get developed, but you'll have to make sure to burn the picture afterwards."

She nodded against her brother's chest, trying to sop up her tears, "I promise."

Marcus pulled from her and looked her in the eyes, "This is like the night in the woods. We will never speak of this again, okay? I'm so sorry, I'll pay you back for this somehow."

She nodded again, wiping her eyes as her brother stood up strait and looking at his partner, "Mom wanted you to come home," she said quietly. "You're going to miss cake."

He took a deep breath and nodded at her in return, then glanced back at Thomas, who, in a miracle, managed to fix the broken piece on the camera and returned it to its rightful owner. She mumbled a thanks. "He wanted to tell you about us, you know. It was just bad timing that you caught us just when he revealed it to me."

Bad timing, or good timing?

Without seeing any point in hiding it in front of her anymore, Thomas leaned over and placed his lips on Marcus's, "I'll see you later."

"See you later."

Isabelle didn't know this at the time, but that kiss was illegal.

On their way home, the two didn't talk much. There'd be the occasional question about their relationship, and there'd be a response. When the house came to view, he began to talk with her about other things, and by the time they arrived at the building, both siblings had almost forgotten about what happened just moments ago. The sun was arched diagonally from the chimney.

Five minutes.

"Isabelle!" Winry called out from the door, "There you are! I was wondering what took you guys so long!"

"I dropped my camera and a chip of it fell out," She said with one of those truthful lies, showing her the spot, "Thomas fixed it for me."

"Did you tell him thank you?"

"Of course, Mama."

"Well, perfect timing, both of you," She smiled, opening the door, "The cake is ready."

The next couple minutes were a blur to Isabelle, all she truly remembers from this was being sat at the table, the cake being placed in front of her. She remembered her mother drawing the shade. She remembered her father lighting the candles, everybody seating. She remembered the happy birthdays. She remembered the song – that damned song that will never stop haunting her. She remembered her wish. She remembered how in the moment she blew out the candles, their front door was kicked open.

Then the sun fell.

Phew! This one was long. This chapter I wanted to focus more on the characters and their development and interaction before I let shit hit the fan. This fanfiction is rather story driven, with some action and dialogue, similar to how the actual animes/manga were. Any and all opinions would be appreciated! I'll get working on the next chapter straight away! Thank you so much for reading!

-Elena