A/N: Hi again guys! Sorry for the wait (again)-I have just gotten so busy (and also sick at some points) and haven't been able to post! But...here we are. Thank you all so much for reading this and your feedback in the reviews, and I hope you enjoy the newest chapter in this series. :D

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August 27, 1926

The earliest train out of Resembool was at 5:30 in the morning. Usually waking up early is not something I tend to enjoy, but I was more than ready to set out on my journey as soon as I could this morning.

So, here I am.

With my suitcase propped against the metal framed bench and Den in his carryon crate, I am waiting for a train at the train station to go away from my hometown and not return until I have found the Elrics.

I check my watch. It's 5:50.

Of all mornings, why did the train have to be late THIS morning?

I begin to twiddle my thumbs, thinking about the task Grandma had set before me. Do I have a plan, exactly? Or am I really just deluding myself by following a vague rumor about a war in the north, and just being plain old stupid to think that this supposed war had anything to do with where my childhood friends are?

I clench my right fist, filled with a determined fire. It doesn't matter if I have a plan or not. I'll just float along, following any lead I can get—maybe do some research if I need to. I'm going to find those little bastards eventually.

I'm shaken out of my thoughts as I hear the sound of a train whistle being blown further down the tracks, the faint huffapuffa sound rattling in my ears, soothing my pensive thoughts. Just hearing the sound of machines working correctly calms me, even in situations like these.

I stand up with my suitcase in one hand and Den's crate in the other as the train approaches, the disrupted wind causing my long blonde ponytail to whip around in my face.

This is it.

I'm really doing this.

The train slows to a halt and sighs as steam is released and the doors open for the passengers to exit and enter through. I suck in a deep breath, and then am just about to enter the train when I bump into someone.

Hard.

I stumble backward from the person I ran into and topple onto the metal platform, my luggage spilling out all over the platform, causing Den to yelp loudly. The person I hit seems to not be really affected at all by my impact—it almost seems like the damage was rebounded back to me.

"Ughhh," I groan, rubbing my bottom, which seemed to now be a little bruised, "Sorry about that. My bad."

"Ms. Winry Rockbell? Could that perhaps be you, I hope?" a familiar male voice inquires dramatically, scooping up Den's crate effortlessly in one big motion. Through the metal sheets of the kennel I can hear Den's tail thumping around ecstatically, as if Den has already recognized this man.

"Major…Armstrong?" I reply back, quite surprised.

Shading the early morning sun from my eyes, I look up at the hulking figure. It's definitely Armstrong, only something is radically different.

"When did you grow a beard?" I ask, shocked, "I thought you took a lot of pride in your chin!"

I sense that this is a sensitive topic for him, since his eyes immediately get mistier. Even so, he holds his head high and chin/beard up. "Growing a beard at my age is considered an important tradition that has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations," he sniffs.

"Oh," I say, a little sympathetic, "Okay."

I suddenly realize where we are.

"Major, can I inquire why you are in Resembool?" I ask politely.

A fat tear falls down his bearded face, causing me to panic—what had I done wrong now? "I heard about your dear grandmother's passing, and I missed the funeral. I came here to express my regards," he replies somberly.

I regain my composure and smile. "Oh, don't worry about it. It was a small gathering anyway—I think that's how she would've—"

I'm interrupted by the sound of the train whistle going off again, signaling that it would be going soon.

"Listen," I say to him quickly, "I actually have to go ahead and board my train now. It was nice talking—"

"Where are you going?" Major Armstrong interrupts with suspicion lacing his deep voice.

I gulp. I do not want him of all people to know where I'm headed, since I'm sure he'll try to stop me, especially since there could be a war going on. "Um, nowhere in particular."

"Then I'll accompany you!" he responds cheerily.

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of my head. "No, really, you don't have to—"

"Please! I insist on escorting you to your destination!" he assures me, his mind obviously set. I'm pretty sure he either feels sorry that he missed the funeral and wants to repent for that, or he's just being his overly dramatic and caring self.

The crate in Armstrong's arms seems to shake, Den clearly wanting to go back on the ground.

I glance back at the train. It could leave any minute now.

"Don't you need a ticket or something?" I ask hopefully.

He shakes his head, grinning. "I'm military personnel. They'll understand." He seems to sparkle in the early morning light when he says that.

I sigh, inwardly groaning. At least I had given it a shot. "Fine," I relent, picking up my suitcase and stepping onto the locomotive. I hear Armstrong follow me from behind, the weight of his muscular body making the stairs going into the main car creak slightly.

As soon as Den is put in the animal car and Armstrong and I are both settled in our seats, (he takes up two) the train begins to move. I look out the window, trying to get a mental picture of my hometown, trying to get my mind to remember the look of the dawn sunrise and the dewy grass that I've grown to love all of my 20 years of life.

I close my eyes and sigh once we officially are out of Resembool, my heart both filled with sadness and excitement at the same time. I had just left my grandma, leaving her alone forever, but I had also just gotten one step closer to find Ed and Al and fulfill her wishes.

I suddenly open my eyes, remembering that Armstrong is here with me, and it's annoying to think that he's been watching me this whole time and not said anything. I turn towards him and am surprised to see that he's not paying any attention to me at all. Instead, he's leaning out of his seats and looking in the aisle suspiciously, as if he's searching for someone.

I clear my throat, and his torso immediately snaps back toward me.

"Whatcha doing?" I inquire in as innocent and suspicion-free of a tone I can muster.

"…Nothing," he replies, his voice indicating that he was still thinking about something, "Nothing at all. Just thought I saw something."

I raise an eyebrow, and just as I'm about to ask more about it, he cuts me off.

"So, Winry Rockbell," Armstrong says loudly, "Where are we headed to today?"

Shit. I forgot I needed to do come up with answer to that. I should've just let him keep looking for…whatever he was looking for. "Just…back to Central," I say, not really lying since that city is on the way, "I want to ask Mustang something." Shit, shit, shit! I have no intention to ask Mustang something, and no clue what to ask at all.

I really hope Armstrong doesn't buy that now.

He smiles. "Oh? What are asking him?"

I panic. "Um, confidential."

He looks confused. "Pardon?"

"It's confidential," I manage. I've never stellar at lying, only at stretching the truth, and this lie feels like it's going to turn out disastrous—mostly for me.

He looks as if he's going to say something else, but then he stops, his eyes narrowing. I look at him, confused, and am about to ask him if he's feeling okay when he puts a meaty finger to his lips, signaling for me to be quiet. My heart begins to race, wondering what was the problem.

Suddenly, Armstrong reaches underneath his seats, causing me to gasp in alarm. I hear a familiar-sounding squeal erupt as a figure is yanked from underneath the seats by Armstrong's large arms.

"I found a mole, Ms. Rockbell!" Armstrong announces, "And it's not pretty at all!"