The Silent Heart
Chapter Fourteen
Pressure Oscillation

- mirage -

Ed reached a few corners in which he hesitated, but for the most part kept a forward pace before approaching an alley Hohenheim was far too familiar with. It was a sliver between buildings and Ed tried to see to the other side before impatiently turning sideways and squeezing himself in.

"We're almost there," Ed said, sounding excited. The space between the two wet buildings was a pinch for Hohenheim, but Ed's smaller size left him plenty of excess. He was almost running as they made it to the half way mark. "This is it!" Ed cried.

Beyond the alley was a clearing in the center of town which lay forever free of blood. Ed charged into it with the excitement of finding yet another continent when everyone was convinced the world was flat. He ran forward trying to look everywhere at once with his arms lifting as if to conduct a symphony before quickly covering his mouth as if to hold back a yell. "I knew this would be here!" Ed cried, dropping one hand to his side and pushing the other up his forehead and into his bangs. A crooked smile burst free on Ed's face and he laughed a minute later. "I knew it." Ed pointed to the massive space of rocky floor. "I know this!" Inside the smooth clearing of blood, lay a transmutation circle large enough to house a soccer game. It was the most complex and involved circle Hohenheim had ever seen, and Ed was running along the edge of it trying to read as quickly as he could.

"Ed, don't go too far!" Hohenheim called, examining himself briefly to verify he wasn't painted with blood from the journey between the buildings. Unlike the way he arrived at this part of the city: tears streaming from his eyes and vomit hanging from his lips, only to collapse to his knees in sorrow this was all there was, Ed was celebrating.

"Hohenheim!" Ed called, half the circle away. "Have you read this!" Ed was cupping his mouth to be easily heard. "Four main points!" Ed was pointing. "Here, here, here, and there!" Hohenheim had back tracked after finding the array in order to climb higher and read it. "This middle line to dissect the diagram is pulling the two sides together!" Ed was almost dancing where he stood. He didn't need to move back to read it, he chose to run around it. "This is incredible!" Ed was moving again and kept himself just outside the first line, but as close as he could get to it. "Eight outer points! Four inside, it magnifies the intensity of the array, it blows it out of proportion! It would be almost too strong to control! What-what would you need to cause such a reaction for!" Ed was making his way fully around. "The Philosopher's Stone!"

Hohenheim approached the circle and knelt down. With appreciation born only from respect for the complicated science to create such a design, he ran his fingers along the first line. It wasn't calk, it was carved into the floor and the indentation tickled the pads of his fingers.

Ed arrived at Hohenheim's side panting. "Dante said equivalent trade was a joke, but then we saw it suck up the lives of hundreds of soldiers in order to complete one. To think, combined with all the lives you took with her, and it still needed a finale like that to be whole." Ed dropped to Hohenheim's side. "Think what we could do if we activated this." Ed lowered his hand to the floor and felt the markings. Hohenheim watched Ed trace the lines with something near affection. Ed's fingers were smaller, clear of life's wrinkles and thinner like Trisha's fingers. "I almost can't," Ed said, laughing for a moment. "It's almost too much to fathom. There's too much flesh in the diagram, but too much science and construct to be human." Ed chuckled. "Can't be both." Ed lifted his gaze to Hohenheim's patient expression, and Ed looked as happy as Hohenheim had seen the boy since he'd arrived. Seeing the alchemy here in Germany animated a part of Ed that had been entirely silent. Hohenheim felt he could literally see a glow about Edward's skull as if Ed had been plugged in and lit up. "Are you reading it?" Ed asked, gesturing to the circle with excitement.

"Yes, I've read it," Hohenheim said softly. He was dreading the moment this pure happiness ended because he knew it was coming quickly. For the time being Ed looked younger than Hohenheim remembered and he felt he couldn't take his eyes off the boy. There was simply no way to communicate to Edward, how being privy to the single life, the life of his son, was more fascinating and heartbreaking for him than a thousand circles like this. "Ed, I am very glad you're safe," he said softly. "And that your strength is returning to you."

Ed was engrossed in his thoughts and gave an indifferent snort before poking his finger down on the array. "It's not human, and yet it can't be anything but, not with these patterns. Yet…" Ed lifted his hand and pointed outward into the field of the array to parts which confused him. "It doesn't have means to live, the outer ring, and the center two are hallow of anything life sustaining." Ed lowered his hand looking perplexed. "It would just give birth to something that would promptly die."

Hohenheim smiled, because it had taken him exactly eleven days to be certain of that fact.

"Why would you create a circle in which your life immediately…" Ed abruptly silenced when he came to notice a line he was tracing with his eyes stopped in the middle of the array. It disappeared with many others and continued later as if someone had taken an eraser and dragged it down the very center for exactly seventeen feet. "What the hell?" Ed asked, lowering toward the ground and squinting his vision. "Someone erased some!" Ed shot up in outrage, and looked around as if the culprit would be standing by and snickering. With the still of their surroundings Ed dropped a questioning gaze to Hohenheim and hooked a thumb toward the blankness in the array.

Hohenheim chuckled, and said warmly, "Edward, you're a genius."

"Do you know what this makes?" Ed asked, adapting a suspicious tone. Suddenly Ed was realizing that Hohenheim had not shown any excitement with the array and this meant there was something big here he didn't understand. "Did you make this?" Ed asked, sounding impressed all ready.

"Goodness no," Hohenheim said, laughing a bit. Him, make this. "I am afraid even this is over my head son." He pointed to the far right corner, the section of the array he had translated last. "There," he instructed. Ed craned his neck to see, and raised to his toes trying to make out the lines.

It was the beginning of the seventeen foot long, five foot wide, and four foot deep blemish in which the transmutation circle ceased to exist. From above it was visible as one long rectangle indentation dissecting the exact center of the circle down to the smallest fraction of a degree.

Ed examined the corner being shown to him with his eyes and sighed heavily. "Did part of it get washed away?" Ed glanced to the left corner to make sure he had missed nothing. "Is that why it doesn't work?"

Hohenheim gave his head a shake. "No. That portion of the circle was never made Ed. It was never needed." Ed's face contorted with confusion. Hohenheim stood and laid a hand on Ed's shoulder. "I wept along side this circle until I was so fatigued I could barely move." Ed looked chagrined with this confession. "Then I crawled through the blood up to one of the roof tops for a good view." He gestured to the surrounding homes and Ed glanced at the dripping shingles and bent chimneys. "And when I did, I realized what went there, and understood that the circle is only ever perfect, and only ever active, when it is present."

"What," Ed whispered, entranced with this suggestion. Transmutation circles did not have item placement markers. "How can a circle not be completed without an item? They're meant to birth out of deconstruction and reconstruction, they don't require them for completion." Hohenheim was certain he could see Ed glowing, and he knew any minute Ed would realize what he was staring straight at and missing. "What could be so great you'd put in the middle of the circle! What sort of…" Ed fell silent when the memory came back like a slap in the face. The circle. The white light. The entrance. THE GATE.

Ed jerked away from the circle with a short fearful gasp. "The…" Ed croaked. The gate? The gate! THE GATE!

"Yes Edward, the gate." Hohenheim felt Edward's shoulder stiffen, and Ed took a quick step back as if the circle were dangerous and that's what it felt like. Like the circle was a mouth and if you reached your hand far enough over the edge it would be bitten clean off.

"Should we…" Ed muttered, glancing nervously about them. Should we get out of sight? Hohenheim could feel Ed's building desire to hide.

"I've come to think of this place not as any side, or destination, but more of a…regurgitation," Hohenheim said, and this was as clearly as he knew to explain it.

Ed's expression stiffened with alarm. "It expels so much?" Ed asked weakly. "So much the blood never dries?" Ed's voice was faint, as if the thought of the horrible gate suddenly slamming into the ground only to open and vomit raw flesh and blood onto the town was too much.

"Or perhaps it's more symbolic than that, and it never dries because the pain on either side never will," Hohenheim suggested. This was a more passive version, but both were potentially accurate and there was no way to test the validity of either. "We are just spectators here Ed. There's no way to test our theories. Alchemy does not work here, and that is why you have lost all of your abilities, and the automail Amestris created when you passed."

"But then why did I lose my memories!" Ed cried, breaking into a whine Hohenheim had not heard in years. Ed's face lost almost all composure and for just a brief moment looked like the little boy at the bottom of the stairs who could not for the life of him go to bed composed. "There's no reason I should have lost those."

"But you didn't." Losing something and having it stolen were two different things. "You remembered yourself lying on a floor, lying on this floor." Ed's expression leapt with avidity. "Therefore if you can recall some they were not taken from you, you simply can't remember them."

Ed looked relieved there was hope he might access the information he so desperately wanted, but confused he couldn't do so if they weren't stolen. "Were some taken?" Ed asked, the whiny tones of his younger years still hanging in his voice.

"There's no way for me to know that."

Ed closed his eyes and gave a deep exhale. "I was on an array. I was lying on a giant array. A floor, but it was wood, and very big. Not stone," Ed said, beginning to frown. "That means I haven't been here," Ed said sadly. "And it wasn't this floor."

Hohenheim was not surprised Ed had not been here, there was little possibility that could be true before despite Ed's certainty. However, Ed's concentration had given them an optimistic greediness, and he remained supportive. "You did not know the floor was wood a minute ago Ed."

Ed gasped. "That's true!" Ed gave Hohenheim's arm a fast approving smack. "But I don't feel as if I just remembered that. I just…honestly don't think I realized the contradiction of my thoughts from before."

Hohenheim gave Ed's shoulder a kind squeeze. "I brought you here in hopes this might help return what you've lost, and," Hohenheim paused and resigned himself to the rest of it, and his assumption Ed would respond badly. Ed looked worried with his soft and saddened tone already. "…and so that you may be as close to your world as I can get you."

Ed was silent, waiting patiently for elaboration before realizing Hohenheim wasn't building to an explanation, he had given it. The truth was simple. "But…" Ed muttered. Hohenheim could sense his own words repeating again and again in Ed's mind. Ed understood what he said, of that he was certain, but Ed wasn't swallowing it. Ed was fighting the truth. "…but…and then this is as close as I can get?" Ed asked. Hohenheim felt Ed clinging tight to logical denial, and Ed's voice was on the crack of painfully accepting it. "But…" Ed whined, glancing over to the array before the blood caked houses. "But this isn't anything at all." And this was the horrible truth of the matter. "This is…but," Ed whimpered.

Hohenheim was patient; he saw a level of sadness seeping into Ed's expression he recognized from only a few days ago. Ed was accepting his words as if he were swallowing poison and Hohenheim could see it killing the life that had only just awakened.

"This isn't close at all," Ed said dryly. "This is dangerous." Ed lifted a numbed expression outward to the array. "This isn't my home," Ed whispered. "This is standing at the edge of a bomb without a clock. Any second the gate could decide to slide back into place, so what good is this?" Ed looked to Hohenheim, and sensed the rejection of his statement. "It can't?" Ed asked softly.

"Ed." Hohenheim felt himself smile, and he could only imagine how it must look. Although he was smiling at a time that must seem incredibly out of place to Ed, he was smiling at the distinguished person his son had become. Ed had celebrated and now he was grieving, without ever fully touching the array. Without running into it open armed and begging the way he had. "You've displayed such self restraint," he said, full of pride for the respectable man Edward had grown to be. "When I was here, I ran deep into the center, and I tried to finish the transmutation." Ed looked to the empty slot with just a hint of desire to do the same. "I wanted to active the most magnificent circle I'd ever seen," he confessed, voicing the excitement he could still remember. "I thought, there is no risk! How can there be? The greatest thing I can lose is my life. I'd already lost everything important: my love, my home, my children." Ed stared at the gate's foundation and slowly closed his eyes with these painful words. "It had taken everything," he whispered. "And after living so long I recognized how special that was, and I would have done anything to get back to her." He remembered bringing his hands down in anger, and in chest ripping sadness, over and over into the stone array until they bled. "I tried, oh how I tried." He chuckled with the bitterness of it. "And now you're here, and look at you." He gestured to Ed's straight posture, and Ed opened his eyes and returned his gaze. "Just look at you." This was the same boy who was scared of grass the first time he'd seen it. The same little boy who taught baby Alphonse to color in the lines, insisted on carrying heavy shopping bags Trisha could manage, and who, until the age of five, would cry if chopped black olives appeared in his food because Ed insisted they were ants.

Hohenheim gestured at Ed's stature before to the array. "Here you are, separated from what you love, and you haven't touched it once." Hohenheim fixed his eyes on Ed's exhausted expression. "I am impressed by you son."

Ed's featured tightened, in a nakedly painful way as if Hohenheim's words were a knife to his gut.

"Your strength, and the strength I've seen you admit all your life, is something I can still say I hope to amount for myself one day." Ed's eyes rushed with the tears he was fighting. "You are more human than I have ever been."

"What are you saying old man!" Ed snapped, struggling to keep composure. Ed did not want to hear about his mother, did not want to hear about this absent father who loved him when hating was so much easier than missing.

"I am saying I brought you here because I wanted you to do what I did Edward. To run into this circle and fight to regain what you've lost, and to cry when you cannot make it work."

Ed was horrified and he took a step back from Hohenheim with angry disgust. "What!"

"You see," Hohenheim said softly, slipping his hands into his pockets. "When I did this, I was able, for just a small time, to speak with her again." Ed stroked an angry hand across his eyes and sputtered a chest full of air. "Just my voice and just hers."

"Mom?" Ed croaked, bottom lip wobbling. "You spoke to mom?"

"I can't be sure of the time. I am sure any time allotted would have seemed too little, but this appears to be the finale. It may be a cosmic joke too large for us to understand, as I am sure it's not of mercy the gate offers this to us Edward but," he gave a soft shrug, "you'll take it just the same."

"Stop," Ed whispered, actively fighting tears with his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Just…be quiet."

Hohenheim felt guilt creep up on him and took his hands from his pockets. "Ed," he said softly. "I wanted you to come this close." He reached for Ed, but Ed slapped his hand away and raised an open palm to him.

"Just stop," Ed ordered, voice quaking on the brink of emotional hysterics.

"If forever banished I wanted you to at least have a chance to say goodbye." This was why he had brought the boy. "I couldn't explain that to you before." Ed never would have understood it. "You needed to see this place to understand, I can't put into words what you feel and know just standing here." Ed's bottom lip was wiggling spastically and Ed brought the hand warding Hohenheim back to his eyes and held them for masculine privacy. "I know it's not what you wanted, and that it is horrible, truly horrible, but you need to know it is the only thing I can offer you Ed. This is the only thing you can take. There is no way to go home."

Ed leaned forward the slightest bit, as if preparing to sneeze, and cried out the softest sob Hohenheim had ever heard. It was the quick and gentle stroke of a violin's bow against its strings. In this place Hohenheim could feel Ed's pain drifting out from his body as if it were seeping from his pores. It was a sweet but very sharp sensation, and there was something painfully innocent about it.

Hohenheim traveled the few steps separating him from Ed and took Ed's shoulders in a tight reassuring grip. Ed was holding his eyes as he cried, and there was little of him to see with his bangs hanging into the back of his hand, and his teeth clenched above his quivering lip. "I know son," Hohenheim whispered, giving Ed's shoulders a squeeze.

"I…" Ed squeaked, breaking another gentle cry. "…I just want to go home."

Hohenheim turned Ed gently and pushed him toward the array. "Step inside," he encouraged. Ed stumbled forward and crossed the lines easily. "Go ahead, and walk into it." Hohenheim made sure to stay outside, and Ed traveled in a few feet and then stopped.

Ed lowered his hand from his eyes and sniffled heavily. "How's ah…" Ed wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. "How's this work?" Ed peeked back, looking a bit embarrassed with his emotions, but also near the point of exhaustion that erased even the strength for shame.

Hohenheim had no directions for how the gate worked. It was careful enough not to provide practice where you could begin to hold a sense of yourself in its place. The gate enjoyed its power and commanded it, it was not interested in advisories, it was not the challenge of control, but ruling like a god which it loved.

Ed sensed Hohenheim's lack of counsel and looked down at the array's carvings beneath his feet. The few times he had spoken to the gate, it was always listening well before he knew it was there. Somehow that felt the most appropriate even now.

Hohenheim watched with heightened suspense as Ed stood in the array. Without their conversation a silence settled over the city and cavern below the Earth. There was only the distant dripping of blood into puddles and the steady pattern of it leaking onto flat surfaces.

Slowly Ed walked further inside, so he was fifteen feet from the outer circle before clearing his throat again. "Um…I'd like," Ed said softly. "…I'd like to talk to Alphonse please." Ed felt small with only his voice in the large circle, and waited patiently to see if anything would happen. Subconsciously knowing Alphonse might come Ed wiped at his eyes and rolled his shoulders quickly to get a grip on himself.

"Ed," Hohenheim called from the side. "Stop composing yourself." Ed looked over with an expression of deep strife. "You need to accept what is happening. What are you trying to hide?" Hohenheim knew the gate required a level of raw submission to respond, but Ed took this question literally and bristled with offense.

"Does it bother you I have a problem standing here crying like some candy-ass pansy?" Ed snapped, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

"Humble yourself," Hohenheim suggested.

"I don't really have a lot of practice," Ed grumbled sourly.

Hohenheim sighed. "You have always been a stubborn and prideful boy."

"Bite me old man." Ed turned his back to Hohenheim. "I don't need anyone to help me do this. If it's going to open for me, it'll open the way I ask it to," Ed said, staring down at the intricate lines and curves. "And I say, open NOW!" Ed lifted his foot and stomped it down on a brilliant swirl. "You fucker!" Ed filled his lungs and leaned forward screaming. "You piece of shit!" Ed kicked and stomped on the array in livid anger. "Stop keeping me here! LET ME BACK!" Ed broke into a quick run as if he could attack the transmutation and stopped abruptly to drag his feet along its design. "I hate you!" Ed cried, kicking aggressively in one spot as if trying to uproot part of the stone. "I HATE YOU!"

Hohenheim was shell-shocked with Ed's action, and stared with his jaw dropped. Ed had become an animal, and was verbally and physically attacking the array before tripping mid tantrum. Ed fell flat to the stone floor, and it was then, with Ed temporarily silent and still after all his commotion, that Hohenheim heard a whisper ghost past him like a birr of air.

"Fullmetal?" the voice was incredibly faint, and Hohenheim felt his breath hitch. It was happening! This was it! Ed was sitting in the array mumbling to himself, and hadn't yet noticed, but the voice held a presence in this world. Hohenheim could feel it coming closer. "Fullmetal?" The volume was increasing and Hohenheim held his breath, waiting for Ed to hear it. "…Fullmetal?" Ed's head suddenly snapped up with wide untrusting eyes. "Where are you?" the voice asked. It was male, a soft baritone, but a respectable confident voice.

Ed scrambled to his feet in a panic. "Where are you!" Ed screamed, voice in hysterics. Ed spun in a wild circle looking frantically about the array.

"Stop yelling," the voice scolded, sounding half asleep and disturbed. "Is that you talking to me?" the voice was confused, and Hohenheim remembered Trisha's immediate bewilderment and how badly she had called out to him. She had begged him to tell her where he was. In the beginning they had barely been able to manage a conversation with her crying so heavily, and him unable to muster anything of substance in his responses.

Ed was quicker here as well. "Yes it's me!" Ed said, sounding desperate and looking sick with relief they could both hear each other, before a look of pain crossed Ed's face and took most of his color. Ed was realizing quickly what would happen if he tried to explain where he was, or if the owner of this voice thought Ed was close and wanted to unite. "Only…" Ed whispered, swallowing roughly before squeezing his eyes closed. Ed brought his hands to either side of his head and covered his ears while leaning forward as if in pain. "Only," Ed croaked. "…you're dreaming."

Hohenheim's eyes filled with tears.

"Dreaming?" the voice asked, sounding humored. "So I am not crazy then." The voice was smiling. "I thought you were calling out to me. I thought I was going to have to get up." The humor in the voice was fading into sadness. "I thought I was awake."

Ed was standing weakly in the same place he had leapt to his feet. Now with the voice speaking Hohenheim watched Ed's knees give out on him and Ed began sinking toward the stone in a slow kneel. "For a moment," Ed said softly. "We can talk." The voice was silent. "Will you…tell me what's been going on?"

"I've resigned," the voice said. "My attack on the Fuhrer, there's no way I can continue, but you and I both knew that."

Ed did not seem surprised. "But you're okay?" Ed asked hopefully.

"I survived," the voice said dryly. "And what about you?" the voice asked, returning to the smile they had heard before. "Still giving an arm and a leg?"

"Suck my balls," Ed retorted dryly. The voice began a soft laugh. "It's about time you leave the higher ranks anyway. Getting paid what you were for doing so little, you were scamming the entire country," Ed scolded in mock.

"Maybe so," the voice said kindly. "But I somehow remember you always along side of me." Ed smiled a soft and genuine smile with these words. "I miss you now," the voice said seriously. "I don't think I'll want to wake from this dream." Ed's smile crumbled into a shaking dread. "Will I get to see you in it?" the voice asked playfully. "Will you be naked?"

"No." Ed shook his head in tender sadness. "Sorry to disappoint."

"What if I promise you anything you want?"

"Have you forgotten how rich I am?" Ed teased, sitting up a bit straighter and grinning down to the array. "I can buy myself any present I desire."

"What if I promise to hold you and never let go?" Ed's smile dropped from his face, and a pale ill expression took hold. "What if I promise to lick and kiss every inch of you, until you fall asleep?" The voice chuckled a good-natured mischievous laugh. "I can become more explicit if you like?" the voice enticed. "If you let me see you, I'll tell you what I'll do to each part."

Ed grabbed at his face and rubbed his palm down to his chin before holding his mouth in anguish. With poor coordination Ed slowly reached his left hand toward the array in a struggle to organize himself enough to continue. "Fine," the voice said, when Ed was silent. "You were never really persuaded that way anyhow." The voice sighed heavily and abandoned the topic gracefully. "Now that I have a chance to talk to you however, I've been meaning to ask what you've done to your brother." The voice had a kind and teasing tone, but Ed responded to reference to Alphonse in a panic.

"Alphonse!" Ed cried, dropping both hands to the array in desperation. "Is he okay! Have you seen him!" Ed gripped the rocky surface in distress. "Please! Is he okay! You're taking care of him, aren't you! You son of a bitch, please do this for me!"

Ed's tones and phrases were desperate and the voice sent a jerking chill of alarm into the air and became more intense. "Fullmetal?" it asked quickly. "What's wrong with you? He's fine, of course I've seen him," the voice scolded. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?" the voice adapted grave concern. "What's happened? What's going on?" the voice asked, seeming to come to understand more than it should. Ed was holding his face with his hands, one locking his mouth shut and the other covering his eyes but the voice knew just the same. "You're crying," it said softly sounding sad. "Please tell me you're not hurt." The voice did not sound as if it thought this would be the case, and became grave with frightened certainty Ed's news would be dreadful. "What is it?"

"I think…" Ed managed, choking back a sob. "I think I've been sent away and I won't ever be able to come back!" Ed slumped forward where he sat as if bowing to the array. "I don't think I'll ever get to see you again." Ed began crying convulsively. "Or Alphonse, I won't get to see Alphonse again." Ed sobbed the word 'again' in a long droning sound of pain. Agaaaaaain. "This is finally it Roy." Ed dropped to his elbows weeping to the stones. "My punishment." Ed brushed his bangs from his face sniffling excessively. "Being away from him I—I have no one. I—I am all alone and—and—and being away from—and—being away from you." Ed's words were tear ridden chokes of painful breath. "You! You! You always understood me!"

"I thought you said I never understood you," the voice teased kindly. Ed choked a laugh into his tears. "Alphonse is fine Edward," the voice reassured. "He's happy. He's living in your home town. There isn't much you need to know about him."

Ed stopped crying with confusion and sniffled heavily. "What do you mean by that?" Ed asked, wiping tears from his face. "Why would you say that?" A bit of panic bled into Ed's voice. "There is everything! Everything I need to know about him!"

The voice hummed a soft sound of acknowledgement. "It is better you remember him as you did, and know that he's happy and healthy now. I met him in the flesh you know." Ed's expression gave way with a bit of relief hearing this news. "He was pleased to meet me."

"Will you tell him something for me?" Ed asked softly. "Tell him...his brother said to keep moving forward," Ed whispered. "To live." Ed began silent tears with the understanding he would never be able to speak to Alphonse again.

The voice exhumed a sense of pleased acknowledgement towards Ed's request, and Hohenheim knew it was smiling.

"I'll tell him you said you love him," the voice said happily. "I'll tell him I had a dream with you in it, and that you sounded healthy and happy to be alive." Ed was crying steadily where he sat. "I'll give him your message and tell him I never admired anyone more than I did his brother." Ed crashed back into the rocks and pressed his forehead to the ground. "Are you sure I can't see you?"

Ed sobbed. "Oh, I would if I could!"

"Even with tears all over your face?" The voice was struggling for optimism. "You were always so beautiful when you cried," the voice teased, but Hohenheim noticed it was fainter and knew the time was coming to an end. "Fullmetal?" the voice asked, sounding a bit worried, as if it too felt the change. Ed was mutely crying into the ground. "Edward?" the voice called sweetly. "I have something to tell you too." Ed lifted his head a bit. "My message." Ed sniffled heavily and wiped his nose down his arm. "Stand up," the voice ordered kindly. "Get to your feet."

Ed whined a long squeak of a noise. "Okay."

"Stand up!" the voice snapped.

"I am standing!" Ed yelled back. "You can't see me, I am telling you what I am doing!"

"Get to your feet now!" the voice demanded, and Ed sulked up angrily.

"You're such a dick," Ed whined, staggering to his feet and managing the slumped posture of a broken man.

"Straighter," the voice said kindly. Ed was still and even from so far away Hohenheim watched a single tear drip off Ed's chin to the rocks below. "Now!" the voice snapped, becoming annoyed. Ed immediately corrected his posture, and jerked erect. "Now," the voice said, tone satisfied and ready. "Walk forward." Ed lifted his foot to obey before going stiff with understanding. "And don't stop," the voice added. "This is goodbye for me Fullmetal." Ed's eyes widened painfully. "Temporarily," the voice corrected lightheartedly.

"What!" Ed cried, spinning back to the spot he had been sitting. "Roy, wait a second," Ed begged, dropping to his knees.

"I am starting to feel really tired Ed," the voice said, fading gently. "I think if you don't go I am going to, and that's not what I want."

"What!" Ed screamed. "Stay awake you bastard!" Ed slammed his hand down on the rocks. "I come to talk to you after I go missing and you can't even stay awake! You good for nothing pig!"

"Ed." the voice was very faint.

"ROY!" Ed screamed in terror. "Roy, don't leave me here! DON'T LEAVE ME!" Ed was hysterical suddenly, and Hohenheim saw himself in his son. "PLEASE!" Ed sobbed. "Please!" Ed grabbed at the rocks as if he could hang on to the voice. "Please don't go! Please!

"Ed," the voice scolded in a warm teasing fashion. "You're embarrassing us." The smile was back, but Ed shook his head wildly. "I'll tell your brother everything you want, and he'll wait for you." The voice was fading fast and Ed was hyperventilating with the disconnection. "I'll be waiting here."

"No please," Ed crocked, beginning to shake.

"I love you," the voice said, smiling brightly. "Stay…" and the last word was lost, too soft to be heard, but the intentions could be felt. It was everything well you would wish someone, but the shut off was like inhaling water when you needed air.

Ed felt the severed line as if he'd personally been the one to drop it, and Hohenheim saw Ed's mouth open for a scream of such a pitch and volume he'd never before heard one like it.

"No!" Ed was hysterical. "Please don't leave me here! I haven't done anything horrible enough for this please!" Ed collapsed into the ground on his knees and pressed his face into the floor. "Roy! Roy! Please! Just let me talk to him a little more!" Ed sobbed. "Roy, you asshole."

Hohenheim neared the outer ring of the gate when only silence responded to Ed's cries. He didn't want to interfere if Ed could force the connection once more. Although he found it unlikely, he would hold out hope for his son.

"Please," Ed was crying uncontrollably, dragging all words out in long sobs. Pleeeeeease dooooon't leeeeeeeve meeeee heeeeere. "Oh please, what am I going to do—what am I going to do." Ed was moaning when Hohenheim felt the return of a presence and felt it was the gate coming closer. It was ready, ready to sweep in for its prize, but Hohenheim was determined not to let it. As soon as he felt it advancing he began a quick walk to the crumpled lump that was his son.

"Edward?" Hohenheim dropped to Ed's side and Ed looked up at him with tears and snot running down his face.

"Do you know how to—did you get—do you know-can you make this work again?" Ed cried, tipping his face down to hide it shamefully." I—I—I…"

Hohenheim grabbed Ed's upper arms and pulled Ed to his feet. "Come on Ed," he said gently. "Up on your feet, we need to get off the circle." This was the trick behind the treat. The gate would not tell you how to find it, but it would allow you to reach it if you arrived. It would not let you cross it in order to return, but it would taunt you with the taste, and then it would laugh.

It would laugh long and hard, and oh how you would feel it radiating up from the array and from every angle.

"Please," Ed cried, fumbling on weak legs that didn't want to hold him. "Can you get it to work again? Just for…."

Hohenheim took tight hold of Ed's arm and pulled it over his neck. "We're moving off the circle," he informed. "I am not going to let it mock you." Just the thought made him furious, and he kept a fast pace toward the edge with the sensation of the gate coming faster. It did not want him to win. It was not expecting him to interfere, or for anyone to interfere, and it wanted the price for its efforts.

Ed was too upset to coordinate himself and Hohenheim dragged Ed off the circle with him walking and crying and collapsed in the clean void before the blood. "I know," he whispered, situating Ed at his side so Ed could lean on him for support. "I know it's painful," Hohenheim sympathized.

Hohenheim felt the gate rear upward into the array, like a shark rising up from the deep, but it was unable to leave the ocean of its circle. The gate was angry with him. Like a scorned child it was lurking with a vicious spiteful rage. It wasn't ready to disrupt anything with its anger and was placing its stock in patient confidence it could trick Ed again. All it needed was for Ed to touch the array and Hohenheim could sense its belligerent faith it would be able to achieve this.

Hohenheim wrapped his arm possessively about Ed's shoulders and held Ed tightly. Ed was oblivious to everything for the time being and was consumed in his grief.

"I'll never see him again," Ed choked, shaking heavily. "I'll never ever see him ever again."

Hohenheim dug into his pocket and felt for the small flask he carried. He was not a heavy or even light drinker, but he had come to find a flask often came in handy. He pulled it free and began unscrewing the cap with Ed rambling.

"He's my brother and I'll never see him again." Ed grabbed at Hohenheim's arm and held on tightly for comfort. "I'll never see any of them again!"

Hohenheim lowered the flask into Ed's line of sight. "Drink this now Edward, it'll be good for you." Ed was crying, and looked at the flask with little interest. "Ed, it will make you feel better." Hohenheim moved the flask to Ed's lips but Ed was entirely unresponsive. "Edward." Hohenheim gave his arm a gentle nudge, but Ed turned his face into it and Hohenheim went still. He had never, since Edward was old enough to have a true sense of himself, had the boy hold him while crying. As soon as Edward was old enough to become angry with him over his travels Edward wanted little to do with him, and that included even less to do with him when upset.

Hohenheim had a clear memory of returning home after a three week journey to find Trisha in a kitchen chair cleaning glass out of Ed's bare foot with him bawling in her lap. When Trisha saw Hohenheim she enlisted his help and he was fetching things for her while she explained someone had carelessly thrown a glass bottle onto the lawn. Ed's heel and toes had been sliced badly, and when Trisha had all the glass out and left Ed sitting while she washed the blood from her hands Ed wanted nothing to do with Hohenheim. To Ed, he was just the man who had appeared in the kitchen. Hohenheim had managed, in just a few child years of Edward's life, to have himself denounced.

Later he had looked at Ed's injury to make sure the boy was okay. He was careful, and inspected the slice which split the back of Ed's heel and cut diagonally across three of his small toes. Trisha was furious and while cleaning up told him what she thought of careless people who threw glass bottles where children played. Hohenheim remembered saying, "It won't hurt for long Edward, be a brave boy," butEd wanted little of him. Ed brushed Hohenheim's hands away and would not make eye contact. Once Trisha returned, even at age six, Ed lifted his arms for his mother and she scooped him up and held him.

It was very apparent to Hohenheim he brought Ed no comfort, and had not done so since the day Ed had decided he was not going to tolerate his father taking absurd holidays whenever he felt the whim. Putting aside these last few weeks in Germany, where Ed was of such weakened health and physical ability he had no other choice than to accept Hohenheim's help, this moment, in which Ed was consumed by the grief for every person he knew and cared for, was the first Hohenheim could remember since before Edward could spell the word hypothesis, in which Ed wanted him for comfort.

Carefully Hohenheim set his hand in Ed's hair and held his son's head to his arm. "It will pass Ed," he said gently. "This too shall pass."

Ed cried until Hohenheim was able to fit the flask to his lips, and then Ed swallowed German whiskey for the first time in his life until there was none left to drink. Hohenheim knew it would be too much and that Ed would be drunk and possibly harder to work with, but it was all he had, so he gave it.

Twenty minutes later Ed was still sad, but the alcohol mellowed him, and Ed lay on Hohenheim's side in a catatonic trance with his own thoughts. The gate was weary of this and kept silent to see where its opportunity might be, but Hohenheim felt secured he was winning. On and off Ed continued to cry, and Hohenheim gave Ed what he could. Loving company, at a time he'd wished to have someone with him.

Their stay under ground lasted longer than he'd anticipated. Edward's sadness exhausted the boy and after crying steadily for over an hour Ed was dead weight with the whiskey. In the silence of the city Ed sobered up to the sound of the blood trickling down the lattice trim of the house on their far right, and the sound of it dribbling from the basement window.

When they finally moved Ed would not look at the array, and they left walking together. As Hohenheim explained, no matter how many times you visited, or how you pleaded, the circle worked once. He confessed he had returned days, weeks, and even years later begging to see his family, begging to see the world left behind, but this single connection, to an unselected part, for an undisclosed time was the final blow. The gate found this a card it could play after abandoning them in an unknown world nameless and loveless as they were. When he returned he was allowed to speak to his wife, and Ed was allowed to speak to a man he knew intimately and who he cried over. Although Hohenheim was disappointed it wasn't his youngest son, who he too would have liked to see, he felt grateful Ed was allowed to speak to someone Ed truly cared for in that last moment.

Ed was equally distressed he wasn't allowed to speak to Alphonse and rambled on and on about what he hoped Alphonse was doing, and things they had done before they separated. Hohenheim led them up one of the Northern buildings and into a small hole that was only visible after two stories up. Ed was far less coordinated with the whiskey and tripped and stumbled in the climb. Still not perfectly sober Ed complained about the blood added to his clothing and how ridiculous it was men wore nightgowns in Europe.

The journey out was different from the journey in. It consisted of a small opening just barely the width of Hohenheim's shoulders. Looking much like it was not meant for humans, and threatening collapse or entrapment, Ed did not hesitate. With pioneering confidence he wiggled his way into the rock without complaint. Once inside they crawled at an upward slant toward the surface. There Hohenheim knew they would arrive at an exit, and like every time before it would be covered with growth and life, so from the surface it was impossible to find. He had searched many times over and in respect had come to think of the exit as a way to leave a place and part of the world which never should have existed. So there was but one way in, and one way out. He thought of the gate, and the city, as a stain on Europe. A catacomb of despair trapped a mile below the surface. A land coated in blood.

The climb upward was difficult because it was in darkness, but the uneven surface of the tunnel and the gradual slant made it easy to grab and crawl. Hohenheim kept count in his head, always sliding his palm forward along the rough surface, until during one pass his fingertips ran into a wall. That was how the tunnel came to stop; you suddenly hit the surface of the Earth and had to dig your way out.

"What are you doing!" Ed called, breaking into heavy coughs when Hohenheim grabbed a hunk of dirt and tossed it back. He had been careful to avoid Ed so he ignored the outburst and continued. He was eager to find light and fresh air. "What is—why are you throwing dirt at me!" Ed yelled, tipping his face down to protect it. This made the top of his head and hair the prime target for the loose soil tossing back, and Ed began cursing. Their exit was sealed and nature's door of heavy moss had fed roots into the soil making it wet and heterogeneous.

"I am sorry Edward." Hohenheim found himself laughing despite their circumstance. He was laughing and coughing at the same time. "Our exit is a bit overgrown!" He grabbed fistfuls of the earth so the soil was soggy and heavy like snowballs before tossing it behind him. In many ways it was like digging through a moist chocolate cake before the smallest specks of light became visible.

"A bit!" Ed scoffed, holding an arm over his face. "Are you aiming at me on purpose!"

"Certainly not."

"Then do a better job god dammit!" Ed was slapping dirt out of his hair while laying in a tunnel of it. "Son of a bitch! Let's switch places! I'll dig and throw dirt at you!"

Hohenheim dug them out and pulled himself up into the forest like a rising plant. With shaking arms and weak legs he wedged himself to the rocks below and pushed. The forest guaranteed that every exit was like climbing free of a potted plant, and Hohenheim crafted the hole they were to escape from by pushing his body through a dirt wall until it gave way. He popped out hands and head first, and then used his arms to pull until he was wiggling out his hips and legs.

He left behind a hole that seemed too small for a human body and Ed's fist punched through it and slapped at the roots and leaves already trying to cover. "Wonderful way out you know," Ed said bitterly, squirming free blowing grains of dirt from his face. "Now I have dirt all in my hair and clothes."

Hohenheim was on his feet and slapping at his own garments, but Ed's comments made him laugh. His body felt slightly achy and his ribs had a tingle from the exercise after their recent healing. It seemed each trip was determined to remind him again and again he wasn't meant to be burrowing about below the earth.

"Yes," Ed said sarcastically, wedging free and toppling out. "Ha. Ha. Hardy har." Ed sat in the dirt shaking his head like a dog as Hohenheim's laughter subsided. "This is gross," Ed complained, looking down at himself. They couldn't have looked worse if they had shoveled a hole of dark soil and blood and rolled in it. "We have fresh clothes in the car, right?" Ed plucked the top of his shirt outward and looked in with disgust. "I assume in your all-knowing all-planning wisdom you brought us clothes?"

"What nice flattery," Hohenheim teased kindly. Ed glanced up with a dark look. "We do have supplies in the car Ed, but we might want to rest a moment. Do you want a breather before we hike to the car?"

Ed snorted and wobbled up before plopping down on a rotting log. "I want to take a bath," Ed said dryly.

Hohenheim laughed again. "In due time." Ed lifted an unimpressed glance Hohenheim's way and plucked a stick from his hair. "I'll admit, I am not looking forward to your reintroduction to the car." Ed had dirt streaked along his face, grains in his hair, and the bottoms of his pants were splattered with blood and mud. The small loss of balance from the whiskey had left Ed filthy, and Hohenheim had not anticipated them emerging in such deplorable states. "I said I'd return it in like condition."

"Please," Ed muttered, rolling his hand in a small circle as if fanning himself. "Some more jokes."

Hohenheim laughed and beckoned they leave. "Come on Ed." He started into the forest and Ed stood up with a groaning exhale.

"Without my walking stick?" Ed asked sarcastically. "How reckless of me."

"Our humor is a relief," Hohenheim said, speaking his thoughts aloud while staring upward into the forest. It was impossible to see the sky as they walked. The trees created a fog canopy, with much of them covered in moss. Vines the width of their limbs hung downward and about the spreading branches. The part of the forest near the gate was lush and kept a menacing overcast as if fertilized and influenced by the blood.

Hohenheim kept his pace steady. There was no reason to rush and the emotional exhaustion of their adventure carried heavy like a bag of stones. "I'll admit, as much as I am ashamed of it on many levels…" Hohenheim glanced back to Ed, and Ed's eyes were locked onto him with interest, "I am very used to emerging from that hole brushing away dirt and tears."

Ed was trudging along keeping his balance with both arms slightly lifted on either side of him. "Is it easier?" Ed asked softly, dropping his gaze to the forest floor. With the ground thick with growth and padded with damp organic compost they made no footprints. "…with someone?"

Hohenheim stopped walking and considered the question. Was it easier with someone? The sensation of Ed holding onto his arm for comfort was still very real in his mind, and when Edward tramped by him he thought he could smell Ed's natural scent.

"Yes," Hohenheim whispered, coming to follow the boy. "Especially someone who I used to beg that circle to see." Hohenheim swallowed the sense of vulnerability that came with confessing this aloud. He was subject to Edward's criticism, but Ed was stung with his words. For a moment Ed stiffened and stopped walking, before returning to a slow thoughtful shuffle.

A comfortable silence came between them and Hohenheim could feel his mind wondering peacefully. As he crunched over old twigs and browning leaves he thought about how showing Ed something as devastating as a world dripping with blood might haunt and tug relentlessly at Ed's soul the way he had experienced. To be blunt he had brought Edward directly to the gate so it could get a good whiff of him in this world. This was a dangerous thing. The gate would wait for Ed always, and after today it would hunt him to satisfy its own bloodlust for Edward's taste. For that he felt guilty and irresponsibly selfish for having done this, but inside the human irrational side of him that longed for Trisha well after she was gone, he felt justified. How could he deny his son the conversation which just took place when he knew it was possible to achieve? It was all he could give, and so he did. That last secret moment, and those special words, meant something to Ed, possibly more than he'd ever know. In this way they were now the same. He could not explain to Ed what it was like to hear her speak when he believed he never would again.

Hohenheim remembered the sound of the man's voice, and the intimate things he had said. "Ed?" He chose a casual tone of conversation and asked, "He was your lover?"

A long silence followed his question.

Ed trudged diligently onward and there was nothing but the serenity of the forest vegetation and insect life before Ed spoke. "Yes." Ed kept his pace steady. "He was my lover."

Ed stepped over a fat rotting log and Hohenheim watched the movement of Ed's prosthetics, but the puncture wound did not seem to be affecting it. "Did you know him long?" Hohenheim asked, choosing his words carefully. He couldn't deny he itched with curiosity, but simultaneously he didn't want to pry, and trying to do both was terribly difficult. Despite the difference in sexuality he was proud of his son for having loved. Knowing Edward had grown to an age where he could find a counterpart to care for and share such an intimate bond made him happy. Understanding Ed had lost that person and now managed to stand tall after such a loss made his heart ache.

"You could say that," Ed said, briefly glancing back looking unprepared, but not so uncomfortable he could not manage the topic. "It was hidden," Ed explained. "A secret romance if…you could be so corny."

"A secret romance," Hohenheim repeated, growing a soft smile. He remembered Trisha when she was much younger leaning out her bedroom window when he'd throw stones into the panes. "Such beautiful words and an immaculate and priceless gift." In the afternoons he'd walk alone up the long dirt road to her house, his hand in his pocket happily bouncing the small pebbles he would cast. "I've come to learn love is by far one thing you should hope to be blessed with in a single life." Ed's profile was just the slightest bit visible and a gentle smile drew Edward's lips upward as he watched his feet. "He sounded like a nice man," he said sincerely. Ed looked up with surprise. "Respectable."

Ed dropped his gaze smiling. "If I knew you better I'd say you would have liked him," Ed said, sounding spirits higher from the boy down below the Earth. "And he would have liked you." Hohenheim felt a swell of pride Ed would cast a compliment from such a personally guarded subject. "I know it's…not traditional and…we kept to ourselves," Ed said, speaking his thoughts aloud. "I didn't feel it was wrong so…I don't care what people say." Hohenheim heard a twinge of anger appear in Edward's voice. "He was never wrong," Ed said softly. "To me."

Hohenheim heard a voice off in the distance and he jerked his head toward the sound. Immediately he felt intruded upon and he cursed his luck. Having to interrupt Ed while he was communicating so openly was a robbery.

Far off towards the road there was movement and Hohenheim returned a worried gaze to Ed.

"I never would have told you," Ed confessed giving a small shrug. "I didn't know how to say it."

"And there is nothing to explain," Hohenheim said, quickly closing the distance between them. "You can love whoever you wish Edward." Ed looked stunned with these words, but Hohenheim did not have time to continue. On sight of someone walking near the road he grabbed Ed's arm and pulled him behind a large tree.

Ed startled with the sudden relocation. "What is it?" Ed whispered, leaning around the trunk to see. Hohenheim did the same and together they caught sight of a single man walking alongside the entrance of the forest trying to look in. "Do you know him?"

Hohenheim shook his head with confusion. "Edward, this area is extremely secluded." So unpopulated the notion this stranger was a simple passer-by was idiotic. It meant the man was searching for them. The question was why.

"Oh shit," Ed whispered, sneaking a hand around the trunk to point. "There's three of them." Further to the left, on the road which ran parallel to their hiding spot, two men were hanging around their car. The visitors had parked directly behind their own, and the two men were facing away from the forest making it hard to see their faces. "How did they find us?" Ed asked, sinking down the tree to kneel in the vegetation. He rested his knees in a clump of moss and his frame thanked him for it. The moist air was doing wonders inside his chest, but the overall exertion was still taxing. "I can't believe this," Ed complained, and this comment caught Hohenheim's attention.

"Do you know them Edward?" he asked, moments before catching sight of the familiar blond man from Kempton. "Oh dear." German Havoc was leaning into the hood of the car smoking profusely as if under heavy stress.

"They must have followed us somehow," Ed said miserably.

Again Hohenheim's mind went to the nagging question of why the man would take such efforts, and he cast a scolding look at Ed. "Did you take something from that man Edward?" Ed stole a quick guilty glance Hohenheim's way. "Something which would make him follow us?"

Ed's expression soured. Years ago Ed had raced to the dinner table and reached forward with one hand to seize a steaming biscuit before Trisha snapped a quick "And did we wash our hands?" With an outstretched palm Ed's expression had slumped in exactly the same way. "I," Ed grumbled, shrugging uncomfortably. "I took his pocket watch. It was nice and after what he did I felt it was an equal trade." Hohenheim closed his eyes and exhaled a breath of disapproval. This was scolding enough and Ed choked a quick defensive breath. "I don't have any money of my own! It emasculates me to have to rely on you financially Hohenheim," Ed whispered harshly. "And I don't know how much you have. I don't want to keep eating it up!" Ed shuffled uncomfortably where he knelt as if he could toss the feeling of dissatisfaction off him. "Don't forget, he was trying to rob us!"

Hohenheim lifted a palm and gave Ed's outburst a nod. "This is an awful lot of cavalry for a simple pocket watch." He turned his gaze back toward the car.

"Yeah well," Ed said, with insult that implied the watch was rightfully his. "It's a really nice watch." Ed reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

Hohenheim was flabbergasted. "You have his watch on you?"

"Well where else am I supposed to keep it!" Ed threw it at Hohenheim. "You gave our house to charity, and I don't have a suitcase of my own." Hohenheim snatched the watch out of the air, as if catching a fly. "The roman numerals are gold, and you can tell both the hands, and subsidiary second hand are silver. Even though the face is open, the gold garter in the back, which is fully engraved by the way, and large Fusee lever are really nice. It's very classy." Ed hiked his eyebrows with appreciation, and pointed at Hohenheim's closed fist. "Decorative silver, full plate gilt, polished steel regulator, that's my watch now old man." Hohenheim opened his palm and looked at the small item Ed was so enamored with. To him it looked like a silver pocket watch of unmistakably fine craftsmanship, but still, it was only a watch. It shone brilliantly, had an exaggerated sturdy hoop at the top, and a beautifully engraved body. The gold detail was powerful because it was slight, used sparingly for decoration, and the combination of all four colors: the silver, the faint gold, the white of the face, and the blackened detail about the watch's hands, made it aesthetically arresting.

"I've never seen you so taken with something," Hohenheim said, turning the watch over in his hand. The gold garter in the back looked like a gold washer on an elegant silver tray. "Do you like pocket watches Edward?"

Ed glanced away and rubbed the back of his head uneasily. "Yeah, I am kinda attached to them but…that's a little hard to explain."

"Well, we could have bought one." Hohenheim handed the watch back, and Ed slipped it into his coat pocket. "Even one as nice as that."

Ed's expression soured. "That does defeat the point of robbing that piece of shit," Ed muttered.

Hohenheim turned back to the road with a heavy sigh.

All three of the men were young boys, or what this world called lads, and they seemed none too motivated or organized. It was easy to see the tall blonde man who they had first met was orchestrating the event and although it was possible the watch held some type of sentimental value, this still seemed rather excessive."Are you sure you didn't take anything else Ed?" Ed shook his head. "Positive Edward?"

"Nothing," Ed said, before giving a pompous snort. "Nothing more than my dignity." Ed sat back into the bush he was half inside. "What do we do?"

"I don't have any weapons if that's what you're implying son." Hohenheim kept his gaze analyzing the scene at the car. "I've managed to live in both worlds without self driven violence. It's a great waste of effort and human time."

"Don't start talking like you're above us," Ed snapped, leaning forward and giving Hohenheim's arm a firm poke. "You're a human too, and one of us." Ed sat back and sighed. "But it is a waste," Ed agreed, thoughtfully dropping his gaze. "I can't do anything with these prosthetics. I am not sure how coordinated of a fighter I'll be."

Hohenheim found this statement out of place. "I don't have any intention of confronting them under the notion of hand to hand combat."

Baffled, Ed looked up. "Then how are we supposed to get the car!"

"Is this how you solved your dilemmas in Amestris Edward?" Hohenheim asked, with a tone of slight displeasure. Ed was defiantly silent when the answer was obvious. "There are other methods," he said returning his eyes to the road. One of the gentlemen accompanying the blonde man now had a large branch he'd found and was swinging it with a bit of excited aggression. "Of course," Hohenheim said, with a bit of disappointment, "…sometimes violence is necessary." He looked to Ed who sat with a skeptical expression anything but violence was necessary here. "How strong is that arm of yours?"

Ed flexed it thoughtfully. "It's suitable." Ed did not sound fully confident. "But I am used to fighting with the strength of two metal limbs. I think I'll overestimate myself unintentionally." Ed's statement was serious, but afterwards he chuckled as if this were a joke. "Overestimate myself," Ed repeated with a laugh. "Overestimate the Fullmetal Alchemist."

Hohenheim gave this uncharacteristic silliness a critical glance. "Underestimate yourself then." He pulled back from the tree. He grabbed the front of Ed's lapels and pulled Ed up. Ed groaned and grabbed at Hohenheim's hand uncomfortably but Hohenheim wasn't about to let Ed trip when they could be spotted, and that small bout of playfulness made him worry some of the whiskey was still in Ed's system.

For Ed's safety he was more than willing to sacrifice some of Ed's dignity. Carefully he led them further out into the forest struggling to use the vegetation to conceal and not reveal them. The same plants who offered their wide leaves as shelter threatened to bounce about like signal flags as they passed. Beneath them the same twigs which were harmless now seemed to crack loudly and Hohenheim was careful to pull Ed away from larger ones he might snap.

Ed did not agree with this type of travel and Hohenheim could feel the passive resistance from Ed even as he obeyed the hold. "Hey!" Ed whispered, tugging to be let go after they'd quickly cleared fifteen feet. "Hey! We're moving away from the car." Ed pointed back to their car, but that was an accurate statement. "Hohenheim!" Ed complained. "We're moving from the car instead of toward the car."

Hohenheim stopped and knelt in the brush pulling Ed down with him. "I am moving you a safe distance away," he explained.

Ed's face blanked over with shock before jerking free with outrage. "So I can hide like some pussy!" Ed hissed, slapping aside the large leaf leaning into his face. "I've done enough of that today, thank you." Ed straightened his jacket with a quick efficient yank. "And you honestly thought I'd let you put me out here in the woods while you what? Fought? Ed asked snottily, gesturing around them with an open palm. "One old man against all of them?" Hohenheim was silent. He had come up against a lot of things in his life, and three young lads did not intimidate him. Hohenheim looked over toward the car while Ed was talking and it seemed they had not been as stealthy as he thought they were. The same man who had been patrolling the forest edge was looking over to them with a hand held over his eyes trying to see. How and why he hadn't spotted them yet was baffling and Hohenheim took action quickly.

Ed was still talking when Hohenheim pushed him over. With one hand on the side of Ed's talking face he pushed Ed right into the bushes and stood up. "I've been spotted!" he announced loudly. The man patrolling the forest was pointing when the other two boys jumped up. Hohenheim took off running. There were shouts to get him and when he looked back Ed was scurrying out of the bush with a wide eyed expression of shock.

Hohenheim planned to run in a wide half circle so he would end up back at the car. Then through a creative inspiration, which had not yet come to him, he planned to take it. While he was serving as a distraction he considered Ed might also make it to the car and with their enemies gone could start it if Ed had any experience with Amestris cars. Germany's cars had proven to handle the same, and while jumping over a rotting down tree Hohenheim mused on whether or not Ed was old enough to drive. Was it possible Ed had never been behind the driver's seat and could make it back to the car and not know how to start it or shift the gears?

A few of the boys were gaining and Hohenheim picked up his speed. He was limber on his feet and it was working to his advantage. The forest was slapping vines and leaves into his path as he tore through them. His pursuers were quick flashes of color and loud shouts and he knew in the dense forest he would appear as fleeting bouts of brown like a sprinting deer.

Suddenly ten feet ahead the tall blonde man stepped out from behind a tree. "Stop right there!" It was not the order, but the pistol in the man's hand which made Hohenheim slow.

He broke down into a decelerating jog catching his breath. Guns. He was not expecting that. "Oh my," Hohenheim said, stopping a few feet ahead of the barrel. "It looks as if I've underestimated you."

Curtain Falls on Chapter 14. Please, please, leave a review. This chapter was a challenge. Any comment, no matter how small, is appreciated.

Chapter 15: I Battle Germany, will be up next Friday 4/19/13. I hope to see you there.

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