IMPORTANT:
I'm going out sailing for a few weeks, and therefore I will not be able to update, for about three weeks. I may have internet-connection some places, so I will respond to messages and reviews there :) If you want to have a look at when I get home, when there's an update etc. just look at my journal on deviantart (link on my profile) I'll keep all updates there until I return.

Inky-chan: Thankyou :D I'm glad you like the concept and plot of the story. And I'll make it up to you Ed, you're in this chapter xD hope you like this one :D

Hope you all have a lovely, lovely holiday and that you like this chapter :D This is pretty angst-ridden too, but the next one is not I promise, and it will have Envy/Erica interaction too :) See you in a three weeks time!

Pangs

To really know someone, is to have loved and hated him in turn

- Marcel Jouhandeau

"Isn't it pretty?" Sam all but squealed, holding up the white and pink flowery dress for her to see. "Well… I don't think so." He mumbled, looking at the dress. "But the lady in the shop said it was just something for a ten-year old girl."

Erica eyed the dress with disdain, tugging at her worn pants and too large t-shirt. "It's really ugly!" She proclaimed, speaking freely in the presence of her uncle. "And I'm nine – I don't have to wear it!"

"Honey, you're turning ten in a week- you can wear it that day!"

"I refuse." Erica bluntly stated in a tone that suggested wisdom far beyond her years. She was a little annoyed when Sam started laughing.

"Uncle Sam, it's hideous!" She exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. "It's pink."

"What's wrong with pink?" Sam half-heartedly defended. "You have pink flowers in your room."

"That's different." Erica mumbled, looking at the flowers in her window. "I like flowers. I don't like dresses." A small smile suddenly fluttered over her young face. "But I'll wear the dress."

"Excellent!" Sam laughed, stopping when he noticed the glint in the girl's eyes. "Oh… what are you…" He trailed off, looking at her closely as his face paled. "Erica…"

"I'll wear it if you wear one." She said innocently, folding her hands behind her back. Sam all but glared at her, before he sighed in defeat and put the dress away.

"You're a little devil-child you are." He affectionately mumbled, ruffling her hair. Erica swatted his hand away.

"That's what dad thinks too." She mumbled, suddenly down. "He hasn't even asked me what I want for my birthday – he never does. He always just buys something."

"Just…" Sam mumbled, not looking directly at her. "Just ignore your dad, hmm? He's never been a ten-year old girl, but he still thinks he knows exactly what they want."

Erica huffed and walked over to her flowers, scooting the vase closer into her arms and inhaling deeply. She could hear her Uncle chuckle behind her.

"If you keep doing that long enough you might inhale one of them." He said. Erica turned around to glare at him. "No, keep going, I would like to see what happens!"

Erica rolled her eyes and stepped closer to him. "You're always so silly, Uncle Sam. Dad says so too."

Sam tilted his head. "Does he now? Well, I guess he's right."

"He says you're a bad influence, but still good for me to be around, so that I can recognize idiots easier when I see them." Erica bluntly stated. "I don't think he likes you very much Sam. I think he's still a little mad we broke into the study a few months ago."

Sam smirked. "Well, I knew that honey. Now, do you want to return this dress, or should we play 'silly-uncle-being-chased-by-niece-in-pink' instead?"

Erica had snorted, but quickly agreed to the game.

*

The water in her glass swirled around every time someone walked past their table, or Roy accidentally bumped his hands against it. He'd already finished eating, and was now just sitting, looking at her. He didn't seem impatient, not that Erica would have noticed. She was too far away to notice anything going on around her.

She wondered if she could take all her thoughts, every little last bit, everything, and just lock it away, throw the bloody key out the window or into the ocean. Yeah, that sounded plausible. And very healthy for your mental state: just don't think about it. Right.

She had no idea how long she'd been just sitting there with an expressionless mask, but it must have been a while, because it was enough to make Roy shift a little, and reach a hand over to gently place it on her shoulder.

"Erica, are you quite alright?" He asked, his tone full of a gentleness she'd only heard Hughes use for her. For some reason, it made tears flow silently down her cheeks. Roy looked like he was ready to have a panic attack.

"Erica??" He asked, his voice more alarmed than she'd ever heard it before. Erica almost laughed, realizing that her showing such strong emotions was very uncommon. And she'd blamed Abraham for being emotionless.

Roy sighed as she wiped her tears. "I shouldn't have told you. This is between you and him; you don't need me tearing everything up."

"Rubbish!" Erica insisted, and could, for the first time, hear how much she sounded like Abraham. She almost laughed again, even though dread was filling her chest. Was she starting to have hysterics? She took a deep breath, trying to prevent it. "I asked you to tell me, didn't I? And I'm glad I did."

That was a down-right lie. She might be glad for it later, but right now she wanted to scream and yell and cry her eyes out and possibly kill Roy for ever opening his big, stupid mouth! Of course, she wasn't really mad at Roy – she was aimlessly, selfishly angry at Abraham, but couldn't do much about that. She gritted her teeth trying to control it: but why now? Why did she find out these things, now, now when she couldn't use them to anything other than feel regret? Why did she have to find out from a person she'd barely known for two months? And didn't she have enough to worry about as it was?

If it hadn't been for the reason she was there in the first place, she would have grabbed her things and left as soon as those thoughts hit her. But she needed to know.

"The message?" She mumbled, surprised at how weak and pathetic her voice sounded. She was better at concealing her anger than she'd thought.

"It's addressed from a certain 'Sam Jordon'." Roy slowly said, watching how she frowned and then immediately stiffened. "But there is no such man in Amestris that we know of: there is however, a Sam Collins .Your uncle on your mother's side."

"I know." Erica mumbled. Roy frowned.

"I've never heard of him before."

"He wasn't Abra…" The word got stuck in her throat. She couldn't even say his name! And she would be damned if she said 'my father'. "He wasn't your Commander's favorite person."

Roy frowned, clearly hearing the spite in her words. "Erica…"

"What did it say?" She cut him off, fearing she might explode, either in angry insults or tears if this kept going much longer.

Roy cleared his throat. "Well, he wanted to meet with you. Apparently he had some unfinished business with your… with Abraham, and since you're the sole heir, he…"

"Well, you can tell him that I do not wish to meet him." Erica stood up from the table, clearly startling Roy, but she could care less right now. "I am done messing with my father's business."

The last words burned on her tongue: my father. She quickly thanked Roy for the meal and stormed into the cool afternoon. She didn't know where she was heading, knew she wouldn't go back to Sheska, wouldn't go back to Gracia and Hughes and most certainly wouldn't go back to Roy: not now when everything in her world was wrong and upside-down, now that everything seemed to have turned against her in the last minute, just as she was hoping she would figure it out.

She didn't stop walking until she reached the Military Library. Her legs where burning after walking that far, and she gently let herself fall down on the stairs, pushing her knees up to her chest and leaning her head against them.

She didn't know how long she stayed there in the cool weather, slowly breathing in and out.. Flashes where bombarding her from everywhere, and she felt so overwhelmed, all the while wondering why this was happening to her.

Suddenly the mess of her thoughts stopped slightly, gently pushing themselves backwards in her consciousness. She could feel a prickling in her neck, and knew someone was watching her.

She slowly lifted her head, amber eyes meeting golden orbs. Edward looked about as tired as she felt, his red coat flung over his arm, his free hand in his dark pocket. He smirked slightly at her.

"What are you doing?" He asked. Erica made a face.

"Having a pity party." She said, laughing mentally at herself. She had gotten quite pathetic in a matter of hours. She frowned, not liking that her inner voice sounded so much like Abraham's.

Edward lifted an eyebrow. "Can I join?" He asked, sitting down beside her without waiting for answer. Erica sent him a weak smiling.

"Is the research not going well?" She asked, not really caring about playing tricking-games with anyone now. She felt… exhausted. More exhausted than ever. She hadn't even felt like this after the funeral, and she'd been a mental pit of snot days after that.

"No, it's really not." Edward sighed deeply. "Your father's codes are hard to crack." He continued, not noticing how she winced at his words. "It's taking a lot of time."

Erica sighed. "I could help." She said. "I can easily crack his code. Not to brag." She actually wasn't bragging: she would love to simply run away from all her troubles, never having to deal with Abraham and his freakin' research ever again, but she really couldn't do that. No matter what, she'd been raised with morals, and she would do the right thing. And that thing was helping Ed and Al, she was sure.

"Are you sure?" Ed asked. "Not that I doubt you – it's just… you look pretty beat up."

She couldn't understand why she'd ever disliked this boy – he truly had a good and kind heart.

"Well, you would be pretty beat up if you were in my position too." Erica bluntly said, thinking that he might have been: or at least in a similar situation.

He was looking at the sky, studying the clouds. "Care to inform me about that?" He casually asked, trying not to sound curious. Erica sighed.

"Well, I've just found out that I've been raised by a person I didn't even know and that my uncle, the only person a little girl could rely on, but abandoned her on her tenth birthday, is suddenly back and wants to see her, not for her sake, but because he has unfinished business with a person she didn't even know!" Oh crap, she could feel tears rising again. "I have to go." She mumbled, standing up. Before Ed could as much as mutter another word, she'd started running.

It felt like that day after her second meeting with the Fuhrer: felt like she had to run from something, something huge that would hit her, devour her, and kill her. She only stopped when she caught a glimpse of familiar long, dark hair and purple eyes, smirking at her, but freezing and looking at her oddly when they no doubt spotted the dried-out tears on her cheeks. She'd started running again, not looking back and bloody well not caring either. At least, that's what she told herself.

She stopped short as she entered the house, heavily breathing. The wind had blown her tears away, but she could still feel them prickling at the back of her lids.

Just like the last time she'd come into the room, Hughes was sitting there. She wondered if he had some sort of radar, to know when she was upset or something. Perhaps he had a radar like that for everyone. If she hadn't been in halfway shocked mood, she might've laughed at the thought.

"You're home early." He commented, no humor on his face. No doubt, that invisible problem-radar of his could spot the tears and anguish inside of her.

"You are too." She said. "Slow on the case?" He was still in his Military uniform.

"I was just here to pick up some stuff." Hughes gently said. "Erica?"

She just nodded. "I got a message." She said. "From my Uncle Sam."

"Oh? I didn't know Abraham had any brothers."

"He didn't." She mumbled. "He was my moms." That word too, felt foreign in her mouth. "He was the…" She sucked in a breath. "He was the best… uncle… father… I ever… I used to think, when I was little, that he kept me sane. He wasn't around that much – he was a sailor. But when he was… he was the only one who loved me."

"Your father loved you!" Hughes immediately protested. Erica could feel burning hot rage flame up in her chest, licking away at the last of her resolution.

"Then why did he never show it? Why did he never say it? Why was I never good enough?" She yelled, not caring about how many heard them. "Why does he keep haunting me even after he's dead and buried?"

"Is this about your father or your uncle?" Hughes asked, his tone gentle. Erica couldn't believe it: even when she was yelling at him over pointless matters, he didn't so much as raise his voice.

"It's both." She admitted, lowering her voice slightly. "Why did they both abandon me?" She'd needed them. And they hadn't been there.

Hughes didn't answer: not that she had expected him to come up with one.

"I'm sorry." He simply said, and that was enough. The water-works broke, but not a word came from her lips. She cried silently with her head down, thankful when Hughes slowly stepped forward and held her.

Song for this chapter: Adele – ' Hometown Glory'