A Boy Named Ed

Ed knew he was different. It wasn't just that he was smarter than the other kids or even that he had automail. No, it had more to do with the way people would occasionally look at him, like they were expecting somebody else. It was the way his mechanic cried the day she met him. It was the way his dad would sometimes slip – and call him Fullmetal.

A.N. So, it apparently takes a long time for Roy to tell a story – especially when Ed keeps interrupting. But anyway, HERE is the chapter you've all been waiting for. I hope it meets everyone's expectations. And it's nice and long – hard to believe I've been writing this for almost twelve hours straight, but I didn't want to stop for too long and forget something.

Disclaimer: Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

Rating: This story is rated K+

Chapter 10, in which family is something we choose

"You know he didn't mean it."

"Of course he didn't mean it… But that doesn't mean it's not true. I don't know the first thing about being a father, Riza. Tonight just proves it."

She didn't respond at first. She busied herself with capping the bottle of brandy and returning it to its place in the upper cabinet. It was just as well. Roy hadn't actually drunk any of what he'd poured into his glass. He just stared at it though the caramel-colored liquor could somehow provide the answers he was searching for.

"You're wrong, you know."She began, as she crossed the room and paused with one hand on the doorknob. "You love him and that's the only thing any father needs to know." She closed the door behind her, leaving her husband to his restless thoughts.

Roy wasn't sure how long he stayed in his office, pondering the untouched glass of brandy. He wasn't sure what hurt the most – having his past mistakes thrown back in his face by the very person who was the unknowing victim of them all, or hearing his beloved son use the truth of their relationship against him.

He had never hidden from Ed, that he was adopted. From the moment the child was old enough to comprehend what that meant, he'd known. But Roy had always striven to make it clear that they were a family, regardless of blood – they chose each other and that was what was important. He'd chosen to keep Ed. That made the boy his son. But now… Roy wondered if Ed would have chosen him to be his father, had he been able. Or rather, would Fullmetal have chosen him? The answer to that was too plain – no. Fullmetal would never have accepted Mustang as his father. He'd probably have ranted for hours about it and cursed his superior for even suggesting it. He wouldn't have gone for this.

And for the first time in twelve years, Roy found himself doubting his decision. Did I make the right choice? Ed hadn't really been given a choice. This family was all he had ever known.

What if he doesn't want it anymore?

The thought made something twist inside Roy's chest. It was painful. After twelve years of caring, raising, and loving the boy, he couldn't imagine not having Ed in his life. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain a parent might feel at losing a child to death – but he thought that losing Ed to anything might be something like that.

It was these thoughts that drove him from the office, leaving his still full glass sitting on the desk, and led him to stand in front of his son's door. He stopped with his hand on the knob, realizing where he was. Somewhere, on the other side of that door, was Ed. Roy didn't know what time it was or if the boy would still be awake. He hoped not. The last thing he wanted was to start another confrontation, another fight. But he wanted, needed, to see his son.

Tomorrow… tomorrow would likely be more of the same if Ed's attitude hadn't changed. Roy thought maybe if he changed his own approach, they might be able to keep things from devolving from discussion to argument – but he wasn't sure he'd be able to reign in his own temper, let alone Ed's.

He didn't want to deal with that tonight. He just wanted to see his son – to ease the pain in his chest with the irrefutable knowledge that his boy was there. He might hate his father right now, but he was there, home and safe and, hopefully, asleep.

After listening at the door for a few moments, and hearing nothing, Roy eased the door open slowly.

He frowned. The room was a mess. Papers were scattered about all over the floor as though a miniature tornado had breezed through the room. Roy chose to ignore this momentarily and looked, instead, at the figure of his son. The boy was slumped over in his chair, his head resting atop his arms which were crossed on the desk. He was definitely asleep, breathing deeply – almost snoring. But Roy couldn't imagine that the position was comfortable. He winced just imagining the kinks the boy would wake up with if he slept through the night like that.

Crossing the room, Roy reached out to gently brush away a lock of hair that fallen in front of Ed's face. The boy really needed a haircut. It was at that in-between point – long enough that it got in the way, but too short to actually do anything with it. Roy smiled wryly at the thought of seeing his son with that all-too-familiar braid Fullmetal had always worn but he cast those thoughts aside.

Right now, sleeping sprawled out across his desk, a line a drool creeping down his chin to soak his shirt sleeve, he wasn't Fullmetal. He was just Ed – sweet, innocent Ed who always strove to reach his full potential, who never let anything hold him back, who was strong enough to endure automail surgery, and stubborn enough to defy any odds. That was who Roy saw as he watched his sleeping son. He leaned against the desk and let the minutes slip away as he recalled the countless nights he had spent doing just this. From the from the very first night the boy had spent in his home and Roy had stared at him with wonder and amazement that this baby could be the same stubborn shrimp who, less than a week before, had stormed out of his office at Headquarters – frustrated but determined to finish the mission quickly and get back to work. That was the last time he saw Fullmetal.

So much had changed since then. So many sleepless nights had passed as Roy dealt with the trials of infancy – midnight feedings and diaper changes, colic, teething, desperate calls to his lieutenant for help because little Ed had swallowed a button. Those moments slipped away in a instant and the boy had grown into a toddler, first crawling awkwardly on one hand and one leg – Roy still couldn't figure out how his son had managed that but the kid was too stubborn to not move once he had the strength to try – and then learning how to walk once his first prosthetic was attached. He was speaking in full sentences before he turned two and taught himself to read before he was three. He started drawing perfect circles with crayons on scrap paper and made his first transmutation circle before his fourth birthday. And so the years passed.

Despite the fact that Ed had long since begun sleeping through the night, Roy still found himself drawn to his son's room, to watch him sleep and to marvel at the gift he'd somehow been given – and in such a form! He'd once balked at the very insinuation that he might think of Edward Elric as something like his son. Yet here he was – the boy he'd once done everything possible to deny any affection towards was his boy, his son. And he wouldn't give him up for anything in the world.

The distant chiming of the clock above the fireplace in the living room brought Roy out of his musings. He counted and then sighed. It was midnight. Riza was probably wondering if he was ever coming to bed.

Pushing away from the desk, Roy considered his son for another moment. He really couldn't bring himself to leave Ed at his desk all night. He'd be sore in the morning. But the boy was really too big to carry. Roy thought he'd be able to manage it if it weren't for the automail but, despite being made from lighter materials than steel, it was still heavy and when compounded with Ed's own body weight… well at the very least Roy didn't think he could manage it without waking the boy up. And if he was going to wake up anyway, it would just be easier to wake him now and let him walk himself to bed.

He hated to do it, but it was necessary. Reaching out, he shook the boy's shoulder and gently called his name.

Ed felt someone shaking him gently and heard a voice calling him out of his dreams. For once, he hadn't been dreaming about the past. He'd been in the dining room eating dinner with his parents. The room was filled with people – his uncles, Aunt Gracia, Elicia, Kale, Bri, their parents, and then a bunch of people he didn't know as well, but could at least recognize in passing. Major Armstrong had taken up a whole corner of the room and really it didn't make sense that so many people could fit into a room that was so small. They were packed like sardines and yet somehow still had room to move about as people approached him individually to speak to him or hand him another plate of food which he continued devouring and wondered why he didn't feel full yet. That's when he realized that he was dreaming. But he didn't wake up until he heard his name being called.

"Ed. C'mon son, wake up."

Groggily, Ed blinked his eyes opened and wondered why he was staring at the wood grains on his desk instead of the ceiling or the weave on his pillow case. He vaguely remembered sitting down at the desk sometime earlier, after tearing his journal apart. He didn't actually remember falling asleep, but then that was usually the case. Wearily, he pushed himself into a sitting position and winced as the blood flow returned to his left arm. He shook it out and then rubbed at his eyes before turning to see who'd woken him up.

"Dad?" It didn't register at first why he should be surprised to see his father standing in his room, but then Ed's eyes flew open wide as that evening's argument came rushing back. "Dad, I…. earlier… what I said… I – I didn't…" he stumbled over the words. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize – to somehow take it all back and make things better between him and his father. But his mouth wasn't working right and his brain was stuck somewhere on the realization that words wouldn't really be enough.

Thankfully, his father seemed to understand because he just smiled softly and placed his hand on top of Ed's head, not ruffling his hair, but just resting there. "I know, son. It's okay."

What Ed felt next was a simultaneous joining of relief and inexplicable anger. He didn't know why he should feel angry, or even who he was angry with. Not his father. Maybe himself. He supposed it was really the entire situation that had his temper up. He felt horrible for what he'd said and yet here his father was trying to brush it aside like it was nothing. It's not right! It's not equivalent! He scowled and pushed his father's hand away. "No! It's not okay! What I said… I didn't… you didn't deserve…"

"Ed." His father's commanding voice brought Ed out of his ramblings and he looked up into the dark eyes of the man who raised him. "It's late. We can talk more tomorrow. I just thought you'd be more comfortable sleeping in your bed than at your desk."

Ed swallowed whatever he'd been about to say next, not even sure what it was himself, and nodded. "I… yeah, that's probably a good idea." He offered a tentative smile. "Thanks, Dad."

His father just smirked and helped Ed up out of the chair, ushering him towards the bed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Ed bent to take off his shoes and his father moved back to give him space. Ed thought the man might turn to leave, so he looked up to say good night but stopped when he saw his father frowning at the papers on the floor.

"What did you do to your room, Ed? You usually keep it so neat in here."

Ed shrugged, and tried to think of a way to get his father out of the room quickly, so he wouldn't see what was written on those papers, but without saying something stupid that would hurt his father again. "I was… kinda throwing a temper tantrum earlier." He admitted sheepishly. "I'll clean it up in the – No! Dad, you don't have to – " He froze when he saw the paper his father had picked up. It was face-down, so the man could not yet see what drawn on the other side. But Ed could see it and he stared, wide-eyed as his father looked, first at him, then back at the paper with a marked frown.

It took only a moment for Roy to figure out why his son had stopped talking. Slowly, almost as though he was afraid, he turned the paper over and looked down at the image drawn on the other side.

Ed watched as his father's body went stiff and his frown turned into a glare. He braced himself for an explosion and vaguely wondered if the Flame Alchemist had his gloves in his pocket. But the words that came out of his father's mouth weren't harsh; they weren't even loud, just cold and deadly serious.

"What is this?"

Ed sprung up from the bed to stand in front of his father. Maybe… maybe he could salvage this somehow. Maybe it wasn't too late. "It's – it's nothing. Just some notes. Homework." Ed struggled to keep his voice calm, even, convincing. It didn't work. His father's gaze hardened.

"Don't lie to me, Edward Mustang. You haven't been doing your homework and this" He brandished the paper so that the ouroborus could be clearly seen. "is not something that would be taught at a school! Where did you see this symbol, Edward?"

Ed tried to reply, to throw out another excuse, anything! But his voice had stopped working and his tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth. He couldn't speak, couldn't move. All he could do was stare into his father's fiery gaze and wonder if it really was fear that he saw floating behind those eyes.

But then the gaze was torn away and Roy was stooping to pick up more papers. The spell was broken and Ed jumped into action, bending down and reaching to stop his father's hands. "No! You can't read those! They're mine! They're private!" He grasped the small stack as his father stood and for a moment there was a gentle tug-of-war with the papers, before both stopped and stared at one another. They weren't going to fight over the papers that way. It would only result in the papers being torn and Ed knew his father would win if it came down to that. So it came down to a battle of wills.

Roy held the papers firmly, but he didn't look down to read what was written on them. He met his son's eyes evenly. "What is all of this, Edward?"

"It's nothing."

"What are these papers?"

"My… my journal. I told you, they're private!"

His father sighed and Ed thought for a moment that he had won. His parents had always respected his privacy and journals were very private things. They wouldn't invade his space that way.

"I don't want to read them, Edward." His father said and Ed felt a rush of relief flow through him before the voice continued, hardening once again. "But if you won't tell me what's going on then you will leave me with no choice. This is serious, Edward!"

Ed scowled as the relief vanished and anger took its place. "No! Give me back my papers!" He tugged a little, but his father's grip was too strong and he didn't want to tear his notes.

"Not until you tell me what this is all about."

"I won't!"

"What's going on, Edward?!"

"It's none of your damn business, Colonel!"

Ed thought maybe there had been too many moments of complete silence in the past twelve hours. He bit his tongue harshly as his father stared, stunned speechless. Then the moment was broken as the papers were release by both father and son and they fluttered to the floor in a shuffle.

"What did you call me?" his father's voice was quiet and void of emotion.

Ed stammered, struggling to reply. "I – I meant… General. No! I mean… Dad… shit!" He turned away abruptly and sat heavily on his bed, burying his head in his hands. He'd really blown it this time. He never called his father by his rank and even if he did, it wouldn't have been 'Colonel' – not in this time anyway. In the past… that was all he ever him – Colonel Mustang, or Colonel Bastard, or even just Colonel. But now… he would know. And then it would be over.

"Fullmetal." It wasn't an accident this time. It wasn't a slip of the tongue in the heat of the moment. This time his father whispered the word – slowly, intentionally, almost reverently.

Ed didn't look up. He didn't want to face whatever was coming next. He just wanted to go back in time and start the whole day over again. Maybe if he'd done things differently, it wouldn't have come to this. Maybe –

"Ed." His father called softly. Ed said nothing. He felt the mattress sink as his father sat down next to him. "Ed, look at me." Ed didn't move. He thought about rolling over and burying himself under his blanket, pretending to be asleep – not that it would actually work, but hiding sounded really good right about now.

"Look at me, Fullmetal! That's an order!"

Ed jumped and looked up at the sound of his commander's voice – like a voice from the past barking at him for his most recent act of stupidity. It was strange to think that this was the same voice he'd heard every day for twelve years, but so different as a father instead of a superior officer.

Colonel Mustang's gaze was sharp but it softened the moment Ed met his eyes. The boy gasped softly at the change, not able to wrap his mind around how one man could be 'Colonel' and 'Dad' at the same time. The man lifted one hand and grasped Ed's chin gently but firmly, so that he could not look away again. He stared into his eyes for several moments, and Ed thought, perhaps, those dark eyes could look into his very soul.

"You remember." The Colonel said, finally.

Ed could only nod in reply, but he bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, unable to hold that gaze any longer. His chin was released and the bed shifted again as his father stood up and started pacing the room, mindless of the papers still scattered about.

"How long have you known?"

Ed looked up at the question, curious at the raw emotion hidden behind his father's words. But nothing showed on the man's face as he continued to walk back and forth, from one end of the room to the other. It wasn't really a lot of space and Ed vaguely wondered if it was really possible to wear a hole in the floor if you paced the same spot over and over.

"Um…" He thought back, searching for a reply. It seemed safe enough. The Colonel already knew the truth and he hadn't blown up or stormed out on him yet, so he might as well explain the rest. "I guess it started right after my automail surgery but… I only started making sense of it all about a month ago."

"When I left?"

Ed shrugged. "Around then… it was really confusing mostly. I didn't figure out that I was… am… Fullmetal until after Major Armstrong's presentation on career day."

The Colonel looked at him sharply. "Armstrong told you?!"

"What? No, he didn't tell me. He didn't even realize I was in the room until he'd been talking about me – about Fullmetal – for several minutes. Some of the other students were asking about it. But when he saw me, he changed the subject. I didn't even figure it out then though. It wasn't until I got home and found the pictures…"

"What pictures?"

Ed stood up and looked around on the floor, shuffling some of the papers around until he found the two pictures hiding under one in the corner. "These." He handed them to his father. "They were in your office. Lilyate knocked over the box…" He stopped trying to explain. His father didn't really seem to be listening anyway.

The man stared at the two pictures for a moment and then dropped heavily into Ed's desk chair. "I should've remembered to put it away." He sounded like he was angry at himself.

"It's not your fault." Ed countered, sitting back down on his bed. "I probably would have figured it out without the pictures; it just would've taken longer."

His father eyed him curiously for a moment. "So it didn't all just come back at once?"

"It still isn't all back." Ed groaned and gestured to the papers on the floor. "That's what all this is for. I'm still trying to make sense of everything. It's like putting together a puzzle with half the pieces missing."

"That's never easy."

"Tell me about it."

An uneasy silence fell between them and Ed flopped back on his bed to stare at the ceiling, wondering what his father was going to ask next and when everything was going to come crashing down.

"Ed." His father said softly. "Why didn't you just tell us?"

Ed sighed, starting to wonder that himself. Now that his father knew… it was like some kind of weight had been lifted off of his chest. He didn't have to lie anymore. He didn't have to hide anything. And maybe… maybe his parents would actually help him with all of this. It seemed kind of silly now, to have kept it from them.

"I don't know." He replied, still staring at the ceiling. "I mean… at first I didn't really know what was going on. I thought they were just dreams – nothing to worry about. And then, I thought maybe I was going crazy and I was too scared to say anything."

"And after that? When you found out the truth?"

Ed bit his lip, not wanting to admit to his fears, to the anger he'd felt towards his parents for lying to him – well, not really lying but not telling him the truth either. He was still angry about that. Sitting up abruptly, he settled a hard look on his father.

"Why didn't you ever tell me the truth?"

The Colonel was startled by the question for only a moment before he closed his eyes and shook his head with a wry smile. "You know, your mother and I must've debated about that dozens of times – when we would tell you… if we would tell you. How do tell your son that he used to be someone else? I think figuring out how to tell you would have been a deciding factor on whether or not we did. Either way, we hadn't planned on saying anything until you were older."

Ed took a deep breath and allowed his anger to dissipate. What his father was saying made a lot of sense. How would they have told him something like that? It was so farfetched. He probably wouldn't have believed it even now if he didn't have the memories to back it up.

"Did you know? That I would get my memories back?"

His father shrugged and stood up, crossing the room to sit next to Ed on the bed again. "We considered it a possibility but there wasn't really any way to know for sure. In the past few days, we were starting to guess that you had remembered, but we didn't want to say anything, in case we were wrong."

"That makes sense, I guess." Ed folded his hands his lap and stared at the contrast between metal and flesh. "I feel kind of stupid now for not saying anything."

He almost jumped when he felt the Colonel's hand on his shoulder. "I can't imagine this has been easy for you, Son. It's a lot to take in. I'm sorry we didn't realize what was going on before now."

Ed didn't really hear anything beyond the end of the first sentence. He stared at the hand on his shoulder and wondered at how easily the familial term had flowed from the Colonel's tongue. Looking the other way he bit his lip harshly before lifting his automail to slowly remove the Colonel's hand from his shoulder. "You don't have to keep calling me that, you know." He tried to keep his voice steady but it caught in the middle and he winced, hoping the man hadn't noticed.

"What? Son?" The Colonel's voice sounded surprised. "I've been calling you 'son' for twelve years."

"Yeah, but," Ed shrugged, trying to look casual and nonchalant. "I know the truth now so… you don't have to keep… pretending."

"What?" Ed looked up at the harshness of his father's voice, but turned away from the angry look in his eyes. "Edward. Maes. Mustang."

Ed shut his eyes against the sound of his full name and wished he could shut off his ears as well. It hurt to hear it now, because that wasn't his name… not anymore. "It's Elric." He muttered, even as his breath caught in his throat and his chest felt like it was burning.

"No." The firm certainty of his father's voice brought Ed's eyes up to stare at the man once more. "November 17th, 1914, Major Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist was declared Missing in Action. Investigations took up the case and a search team was sent out. He was never found although there was evidence that a fierce battle took place in the area Fullmetal was last seen." The Colonel spoke as though he were reading an official report and Ed listened with rapt attention, wondering if the man had actually read it enough times that he had it memorized. "This is the official record. Three years after a soldier is declared MIA, his file is transferred to reflect a presumption of death. As far as the military and the rest of the world know, Edward Elric no longer exists. Only a few trusted individuals no otherwise. I imagine you can guess who those people are."

Ed blinked, realizing that the Colonel was waiting for him to answer. "You." He said firmly. "and Mom, obviously… Winry, Uncle Je – I mean, Havoc… and Breda and Fuery and Falman, right?" The Colonel nodded but didn't say anything which led Ed to believe there were more. So much for a few. He frowned and thought for a moment. "Does… Major Armstrong know?" He asked apprehensively.

Mustang chuckled and smirked, but nodded. "Yes. Major Armstrong knows."

"And Aunt Gracia." Ed said finally, realizing that Gracia Hughes would surely know as well. The Colonel nodded, and apparently that was everyone because he opened his mouth to continue, but Ed cut him off. "Does Elicia know?"

"No… well…" The question made Mustang pause a moment, to think. "We never told her." He said slowly. "I'm not really sure how much she actually remembers from that time. She was very young. But I suppose it's possible she might have figured it out. She's spent enough time with you. Has she ever said anything to indicate that she might know?"

Ed shrugged. "I don't think so."

"Then at the very least, she knows not to talk about it. But really, I don't think she knows. I mean, a fifteen year old boy suddenly becoming an infant – it's not exactly a natural leap in logic. If it weren't for your missing limbs and the color of your eyes, we probably wouldn't have known it was you ourselves."

"How did that happen anyway?" Ed asked – because that was something he couldn't wrap his own head around, and he was the one it had happened to.

His father frowned. "You don't remember?"

"No." Ed shook his head. "There's a lot of stuff I don't remember. And what I do remember is really just bits and pieces."

"Hmm… I was really hoping that we could finally solve that mystery." The Colonel responded.

"You mean, you don't know either?"

The man shook his head. "By the time we found you… whatever had happened to you was already over. Other than an inordinate amount of blood, which made it seem as though you or someone else had been gravely injured, there was nothing to indicate what had happened. We brought you back to Central and kept you a secret, hoping that we could figure out what happened and find a way to reverse it. After about a month of searching, we realized that there was nothing we could do. Whatever had happened to you was permanent and the only thing we could do was find a place for you to live and grow up a second time – hopefully without all of the hardships you endured in you first childhood."

Ed bit his lip, considering the little he remembered about his first childhood. There were happy memories, but there was also a lot of sadness – his father leaving, his mother dying. He was glad this childhood had been easier, but… "But why did you adopt me?"

The Colonel raised one eyebrow to look at him quizzically. "Why not? I've told you before Ed, I chose to keep you."

"But why?! It doesn't make any sense. You hated me!"

"Whoa! Ed, I never hated you."

"Yes, you did. I remember! We never got along. We were always fighting and arguing. I used to drive you crazy!"

"That's true. That's all true." Mustang put a hand on Ed's shoulder and met his eyes firmly. "But I never hated you Ed. Keep in mind that we were both very different back then. You were a stubborn, disrespectful teenager and I was…" He smirked and winced simultaneously. "I was Colonel Bastard with a god-complex."

Ed grinned widely, recognizing the phrase as something he would have used, even if he didn't remember it. "So you finally admit it!" The Colonel just ignored him and kept talking.

"Yes, you made me want to rip my hair out at times and I despised the paperwork that always ended up on my desk after you inevitably destroyed something on you missions. There were times when I wondered why the hell I thought it was a good idea to invite a teenager to join the military." He paused and frowned. "It wasn't a good idea. I never should have brought you into that mess." His voice drifted off in what Ed realized was a bout of guilt. His father felt guilty for getting him into the military. But that wasn't right

It was my choice and besides… "I needed the military." He argued firmly. "Colonel, if you hadn't showed up when you did… I don't know what I would have done." He got up suddenly and stooped to rifle through the papers on the floor, searching. When he found what he was looking for, he shoved the paper under the Colonel's nose. "Here! See! I remember that day, when you came to Resembool. I'd given up! I felt hopeless. I'd failed and there was nothing I could do. But then you showed up and gave me a reason to get back up on my feet and keep moving forward. You saved me that day!" He stopped, embarrassed by his words. But they were true. The journal page covered the same memory in more detail and he watched as the Colonel read through his notes. When he came to the end, Ed spoke up again. "I didn't really know you that well then… and I guess when I got to know you later some of that hero worship died away… you really an arrogant jerk plus I… I guess I really didn't do too well with father figures considering my own father was such a bastard."

"Watch your language." Mustang said firmly, and Ed was startled to realize just how quickly he'd jumped back into father mode."

"Well, he was…" Ed muttered, feeling sufficiently chastised and then marveling at how he fell so easily back into his role as son. "A-anyway, I may not have shown it much, or – well, ever at all but – I think I always sort of looked up to you, even then."

His father smiled softly and then gestured with the paper in his hand. "I remember that boy. When I first saw him, he seemed so broken. But then I really got a good look at him and I saw a fire in his eyes. I saw that same fire in his eyes every time I saw him for the next four years. He may have driven me crazy but I have to admit that he was the strongest, bravest, coolest kid I'd ever met." Ed grinned at the praise and his father smirked before continuing. "And you know what the best part is?"

"What?"

"I still get to see that fire every day. And you know how much I like fire." He smiled and reached out to ruffled Ed's hair.

Ed laughed and pushed the hand away. "You're such a pyromaniac." They both chuckled for a few moments before Ed got serious again. "I still don't get it though. Why adopt me? I mean, why not just take me back to Resembool? I'm sure Winry and Granny Pinako would have taken me in."

"I did actually." His father replied easily, causing Ed to look up in surprise.

"You did?"

His father nodded. "Yes. When I realized that we couldn't change you back into a teenager, the logical thing seemed to be to take you back to the place you grew up the first time. You'd always treated the Rockbell's like family and vice versa, so I knew they'd take you in. I brought you there myself, a month after we found you, explained the situation and left you in their care."

Ed nodded slowly, but frowned. "So what happened? Did they not want me?"

"On the contrary, they were more than happy to keep you." His father sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm afraid it's my fault you ended up back here in Central."

"What do you mean? How is your fault?"

Mustang chuckled as though remembering something humorous. "Well, after about a week of putting up with me calling three to four times a day to check up on you, Pinako told me that if I was going to keep acting like your father, I might as well take you back to Central and adopt you myself. So that's what I did."

Ed's mouth fell open. "You're joking… Why would you keep calling like that? Did you not trust them to take care of me?"

His father smiled and shook his head. "No, I trusted them, it's just… well, you'd already lived with me for a month by that point. While we were still figuring things out, you needed a place to stay and I was the only one with my own place. We couldn't exactly keep a baby in the military barracks."

"Yeah, that wouldn't go over well." Ed agreed.

"It was awful at first. I didn't have a clue what I was doing but Riza helped a lot and we all took turns watching you during work hours. But I was still with you the most and well… at some point during that month… I got used to having you around. When I got back to Central… the house was just too quiet. I spent a few days trying to deny how much I missed you but… that didn't stop me from coming up with excuses to call the Rockbell house."

Ed smiled at the picture his father was painting with his words. He could just imagine the famous Hero of Ishval calling Granny Pinako to remind her that the baby's favorite color was red and that he liked his formula to be lukewarm instead of hot. His grin turned wicked at the thought.

"Gee, Colonel. I didn't realize you'd gone so soft." He teased.

"Knock it off, kid." His father threw a half-hearted punch which Ed easily avoided. "And stop calling me Colonel. I'm a General now, remember."

"Yeah, I know." Ed said assuredly. He shrugged. "But… before, I only ever knew you as Colonel. And now you're just Dad. I've never really called you General before. It's weird. Besides, actual rank aside, I think Colonel Mustang sounds better. Rolls off the tongue a little neater, don't you think?"

The Colonel eyed his skeptically. "I think you're crazy."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just keep going. I want to hear the rest of the story, Dad."

His father smiled. "Alright, well, I can't say that you were much better off than I was. You were crying when I left you in Resembool and you cried for two days straight after that, according to Pinako. You can ask Winry if you don't believe me," he added as Ed opened his mouth to argue. "And when I went back to pick you up… well, let's just say you turned into Velcro-baby. You wouldn't let me put you down for anything. Apparently, you'd grown just as attached to me as I was to you. So I took you back to Central and adopted you – one of the few times I actually filled out paperwork of my own free will. That was January 5th, 1915."

"My birthday." Ed confirmed and then frowned. That wasn't right.

"Technically, it's your adoption day." His father corrected.

Ed nodded slowly. "Right, cause my actual birthday is in… February?"

Mustang nodded. "February 3rd, unless you lied on your military records."

"Hey, I didn't lie!" Ed countered, indignantly.

"Relax, I'm just teasing. Anyway, we used January 5th for several reasons. First of all, you were already there so February 3rd, 1915 was out of the question. But you were too young to have been born on February 3rd, 1914. Also, it would have been too much of a coincidence. We didn't want people automatically connecting you to Fullmetal. It was enough of a stretch to convince people that it made sense for me to adopt a boy with two missing limbs and name him after my lost comrade. We considered using November 17th, the day we found you, but that was also too obvious. Officially, you were and unknown orphan with an unspecified date of birth so we could choose to celebrate on any day. Technically, you're almost two months older than what it says on your school records but that just makes it harder for anyone to try and connect you to the past."

"Wait," Ed held up a hand to stop the story. "If you didn't want people to connect me to… me… why didn't you just change my name? I was unknown, officially. You could have called me anything. Why call me Edward?"

His father gave him a funny look. "Can you really imagine being called something other than Ed?"

Ed opened his mouth the say yes but then realized that he really did like his name. He was comfortable with it and he didn't know if he'd be comfortable with anything else. He shrugged. "I guess not."

"Neither could we. We'd already been calling you Ed and by that point it just didn't seem right to change it. You were Ed and that was that. Now, your last name obviously had to change. You couldn't be Elric when Edward Elric was supposed to be MIA. Since I was the one adopting you, it made sense to give you my last name. That's how you became a Mustang. I hope you don't mind."

Ed grinned. "Well, it's better Smith, or Roof, or… Armstrong." He shuddered.

"Actually…" his father said leadingly.

Ed's eyes grew wide. "He didn't!"

"He offered." Mustang cringed. "Apparently the art of child rearing has been –"

"– passed down the Armstrong line for generations!" Ed concluded dramatically, bringing both arms up in a muscle-man pose. They both laughed and Ed had to lean his head against his father's shoulder to keep himself from rolling off the bed. As the laughter died down he flopped backwards onto his pillow and sighed, still grinning widely. "Thank you for saving me!"

"Aw, c'mon. He's not that bad. He's a good guy. And the Armstrong family is rich. You'd have been… happy there." Mustang had to cough through a snicker at the end.

"No, thank you! I like my bones in one piece. I am much better off as a Mustang."

"Well good, cause that's what you are. Now settle down and let me finish this story so we can go to bed."

Ed sat up again, eagerly. "There's more?"

"Of course there's more. Do you want to hear it?"

"Yes!"

Roy smiled at his son's enthusiasm. "Alright, so I filled out the paperwork, but there was one blank space that I kept coming back to – the spot for a middle name. Now, I was never sure – did you have a middle name before?"

Ed chewed on his lip and thought for a minute. "I don't… think so… no, I didn't." He concluded firmly, sure that if he'd had a middle name, he'd remember it.

"That's what I thought. Anyway, I was going to leave it blank. But then I remembered a promise I'd made a long time ago."

"What kind of promise?" Ed asked.

His father countered with a question of his own. "What's your middle name?"

"Maes."

"And where did I get that name?" There was something serious about Mustang's voice as he asked this but his expression didn't change. He was still smiling… so why did he seem sad?

Ed shrugged. "I dunno."

His father said nothing in reply which made Ed realize he should know the answer, or at least be able to figure it out. So he thought about it. Maes… Maes… I don't know anyone named Maes. Not now anyway. Maybe… did I know a Maes before? Dad must have. So a friend of Dad's maybe? Maes… Maes… Hughes? He gasped, drawing his father's attention.

"You figure it out?"

"Hughes…" Ed whispered the name reverently. "Maes Hughes… you named me after Mr. Hughes?"

"I did." His father confirmed.

"Why?!" Ed almost shouted. "Why would you do that? He was… He was so great. I don't deserve –"

"Stop." The Colonel's voice commanded and Ed obeyed. "I think if Hughes was here right now, he'd slap you silly for even suggesting that you don't deserve his name. Now be quiet and listen." Mustang sighed and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling with a sad smile. "You know he was my best friend right?"

"Yeah." Ed muttered.

It was quiet for a moment, as Mustang contemplated what to say. Then he began. "Hughes was always a family man. Even before he met Gracia he used to regale me with stories about the beautiful wife and children he would have someday. He would tease me a lot too, as you can probably imagine. He swore that one day I would make an amazing father." He smirked. "I laughed at that. I had no plans of settling down any time soon. I was climbing the ladder and I swore I'd make it to the top or die trying. A family didn't fit into those plans. But Hughes was persistent and, when I kept denying the possibility, he made a bet out of it. He made me swear that if he was right, that if I somehow, miraculously, became a father one day, that I would name my first son after him. Of course, I didn't think it would ever happen, so I didn't have any qualms about promising."

Ed listened carefully to the story. It was so easy to imagine Mr. Hughes saying those things – and for him to make that kind of bet made perfect sense. He watched his father run a hand through his hair before continuing.

"So there I was holding Velcro-baby in one arm and trying to fill out paperwork with the other, when it suddenly dawned on me that I was about to become a father. Once those papers were turned in, it would be official. Hughes was right and I couldn't very well dishonor his memory by denying him the promise I'd made all those years ago. I couldn't name you directly after him of course. You were already Ed. But I think he'd understand. He always liked you. So I went back up to that blank box and I gave you a middle name – his name – Maes."

Silence fell in the room as Mustang finish telling his story, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Ed sat in wonder, trying to picture his father juggling a baby and paperwork. For once, he didn't find anything funny about the image. It was – heartwarming. It almost made him want to cry – in a good way! – but he didn't. He just looked at his father with a certain feeling of amazement and the love that only a son can feel for his father.

But suddenly those dark eyes were looking straight at him, startling him out of his reverie. "Do you understand now, Edward?"

Ed blinked. "Understand… what?"

His father stared at him hard and explained slowly. "I am not, nor have I ever been, pretending that you are my son. I chose you, Edward. I gave you my name and the name best friend because I wanted you to be my son – my family. It goes deeper than blood, Edward. And I realize that this is a very confusing time for you. You've got a lot of memories to sort through and figure out, and I am willing to help you with that – we all are. I can understand if those memories make it difficult for you to continue to see me as your father. There is a lot of past between us that I have had twelve years to work through – you haven't. And I can see how some things may make it difficult for you to see me that way. But I need you to know one thing – memories or no memories, you are my son. I won't go so far as to say I saw you that way before the change. But from the moment I picked you up and held you in my arms, I knew how important you would be to me. That isn't going to change. I will always be there for you, no matter what."

He finished speaking and, for a long moment, they stared at one another, waiting. Ed wasn't sure who moved first, but in the next instant he found himself held tightly in his father's arms – and it felt so right. He shuddered slightly as tears leaked from his eyes but he didn't bother to wipe them away. They were tears of joy, of relief as all the fears and doubts of the past month were washed away. All of the confusion and uncertainty of uncontrolled memories were held at bay by the safety of his father's arms. He was surrounded in warmth and black coffee and fire and their month log separation didn't matter anymore. Their fight didn't matter. Everything was as it should be in this one moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Ed looked up to catch his father wiping his face in the same way that he was wiping his own. They both smiled and laughed a little but there was no teasing or judgment in either of their eyes.

"Dad?" Ed said seriously, after a moment.

"Yes, Son."

Ed smiled at the term and took a deep breath. "I do… still see you as my father. I mean… yeah it's weird cause you're the Colonel and all but… you're still my dad. And you're the only real father I've ever had."

His father smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair. Ed didn't push him away.

"Alright, bed time." His father stood up but Ed grabbed his hand to pull him back. Suddenly, the boy was not tired at all.

"Wait! I can't go to sleep now! I've got so many questions. Like whatever happened to the Homunculi? And did you ever catch Scar? Where are those guys from Xing? Did Havoc ever find Breda's doughnut stash? Did –"

"Edward." His father cut him off and looked at him seriously. "I am more than happy to answer any questions you have… tomorrow."

"But –"

"It is…" Mustang took out his pocket watch and flipped it open to check the time. "Two o'clock in the morning. I just got back from Xoporor not seven hours ago and I am really looking forward to sleeping in a real bed."

Ed shut his mouth and didn't argue. His father was right. It was too late at night and they'd have plenty of time to go over things the next day – thank goodness for Saturday's. He nodded but then smirked and faked an exasperated sigh. "Alright, I guess I'll let you get you beauty sleep, you lazy Colonel."

"Who are you calling lazy, shrimp?"

"Who are you calling a shrimp, you sideways excuse for a giant?!"

"That didn't make any sense."

"I don't care!"

Mustang smirked. "I missed you, Fullmetal."

Ed stopped short, forgetting his next retort. He smiled. "Yeah. It's good to be back." He looked at his father and then glanced around the messy room. He was going to have a fun time reassembling his journal in the morning. His eyes came to rest on his bedside table and the figure that had been standing guard for the past few weeks. The smile slipped off his face and settled into a frown.

"Dad?"

His father had turned to leave the room, but he looked back now and his eyes widened as he watched his son take the small suit of armor from its place and hold it tenderly in his arms. The boy looked up at him, desperately, pleadingly. And when he spoke, his voice was small.

"Dad… Where's Al?"

Ed watched his father freeze and almost regretted bringing this up now, when things were so good between them. But he needed to know – this at least, he needed.

The room was quiet as Mustang returned to his bedside and sat back down, before gingerly taking the figure from his son, to hold it in his own lap. He smiled sadly as he gently touched the head of the statue and noted the transmutation marks from his own, imperfect, repair job. "It really is a beautiful piece, Son. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

The words of praise seemed dull to Ed as his father evaded the question. He firmly took back his statue. "Where is he? Where's Alphonse?"

Mustang sighed and looked down, clearly not wanting to answer, but knowing Ed wouldn't let him leave until he did.

"I don't know." He whispered, his voice tight with emotion. "I'm sorry, Ed. We looked everywhere, spared everyone we could to search for him. But there was no trace. I'm sorry."

Ed hung his head, his hopes dashed – but not destroyed. No, just because he hadn't been found yet didn't mean Al wasn't still out there somewhere, waiting to be found. And Ed would find him. But still, it hurt to realize that his father didn't have the answers he was looking for.

"It's not your fault." He said assuredly, noting his father's defeated demeanor. "You did everything you could… I… Thanks for trying."

For another long moment, they sat there. Ed stared at the statue of his brother and Roy stared at the ground. Ed wondered if his father had more to say or if maybe he was just falling asleep. But then the man spoke again, his voice tight, and grim, and filled with guilt.

"It is my fault, Ed."

Ed frowned. "What are you talking about? You weren't even there."

"No. But Alphonse wasn't supposed to be their either."

"What do you mean?"

Mustang shook his head sadly. "You asked me to keep him in Central – to not tell him about the mission – to protect him. And I said I would. Only… he found out. I don't even know how but he found out where you were going and went after you… And I didn't stop him. I mean, I tried to, at first. But he wouldn't listen. So I gave up. I gave up too easily and he'd gone now… because of me."

Ed wasn't sure what to make of this revelation. His father was trying to take the blame for Al's disappearance but… It wasn't like Mustang had sent his brother into battle. Al wasn't in the military. Mustang couldn't order him to go anywhere. And he couldn't order him to stay either. No, this wasn't Mustangs fault. More likely, it was Ed's for trying to keep things from Al in the first place. Al hated that. Of course, Ed still couldn't remember that mission or what happened during it so he wasn't ready to go breaking down in guilt just yet. He needed to find Al first.

"It's not your fault." Ed repeated, more firmly this time. "Al can be as stubborn as I am when he wants to be. And he's a giant suit of armor. If he wants to go somewhere, he goes and nothing can stop him short of removing his legs. It was stupid of me to ask you to do that. It's not your fault, Dad."

Ed rested his hand on his father's shoulder and felt a strange reversal of roles pass through them. Mustang seemed to notice it too because he smirked half-heartedly. "You know I've tried to provide you with everything you could ever need here. But I've always regretted not being able to give you back your brother."

Ed swallowed thickly but put on a determined smile. "It's okay. Like I said, Al's stubborn. He's out there somewhere. I just have to find him."

His father frowned. "Ed, the case is cold. There haven't been any leads in years."

"Maybe that's true." Ed shrugged. "But is there anyone in the world who knows Al as well as I do?" He grinned and met his father's eyes, hoping he could see that fire he was talking about earlier, shining through. "I will find him."

Apparently, Mustang saw what Ed wanted him to see because the man smiled and nodded. "I believe you." He stood up again and took the figure from Ed, placing little Alphonse back on the bedside table and then motioning for Ed to lie down so he could be tucked in. The boy rolled his eyes but complied. "Tell you what," Mustang started. "On Monday, you can come into the office after school and you can look through the old case files. Maybe you'll find something we missed."

Ed nodded and let his father tuck the blankets up to his chin. "Thanks, Dad."

His father smiled and ruffled his hair before moving to turn of the light and leave the room.

"Dad?"

Roy turned back to look at his son.

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too. Good night, Son."