Chapter 38

The Father before the Grave

"Ed…wina?" the man gasped as the girl's identity dawned on Hohenheim after a small tense silence. "You have sure…grown." He move around to the girl's side to look at her blonde locks, the teenager's eyes following him, her teeth still gritted as she breathed through her nose. "And you've grown out your hair. Your mother was so worried you would demand it be kept short forever. And it's in the same style as mine."

"Why are you saying things like that?!" Edwina growled, more so at the fact that he sounded impressed rather than simply the statement.

The man moved back around to face his daughter. "You've gotten quite a reputation in Central. The 'smallest State Alchemist in history'."

"It's 'youngest'!" she snarled.

The older blonde took another moment to reply. "I heard from Pinako that you performed a human transmutation…" he glanced down the alchemist's automail arm before looking back at the grave, "…to bring back Trisha."

"Like you can talk about her, you fucking bastard! Like you have the cheek to even show up!"

"Why in the blue blazes are addressing your father like that? Fathers and daughters are supposed to have a special bond."

"You're not just any bastard, you're the Bastard! If you weren't in front of mother's grave right now, I'd beat the shit out of you!" Edwina her shaking flesh fist to prove her point.

The man turned around completely, grazing back at the headstone. "…How did she die?"

"How?! Because you left! You made her go through so much hardship!"

"I just needed some time. I have an important task to complete. And I need a little more…just a little more…"

"What?! You were planning on leaving her even longer than this?"

"I promised you I would be back."

"You don't know much work a single woman has to go through in raising a family and handling a household!"

"Trisha…why did you just leave me like this…" the man sniffed.

Still obvious to the fact that man was longer listening to her rage, she grasped her head in exasperation and cried, "We're not even communicating on the same wavelength! You came back so late you don't even have a place to stay anymore! Why the hell did you come back anyway?!"

The golden-haired man turned his eyes away from the stone again and to down the path which once led to the handsome building. "Why was it burnt down? There's not a single thing left. Trisha and I build that home all by ourselves."

"Without a home to return to, there is no going back," the girl repeated. "It was a sign of resolve."

"You're wrong," her father replied suddenly and sharply. "It is because you do not want to see the remnants of your mistake." He moved around to face his elder child, stepping closer to her and looking down at her in a scolding manner behind his glasses. "It was for the sake of running away from the horrible images on your mind brought by it. It was to erase the evidence of what you had done. You're like a child who wets the bed and then hides his sheets. You are both still just children!"

The girl's expression waved for only a moment before she growled back, "No, you're wrong! You weren't even there, so you don't know!"

"You were running away, Edwina," Hohenheim said, all the more harsh.

"You. Don't. Know!" Edwina sounded out.

The man's face softened. "I really do."

The girl huffed a breath and turned around, as she hurriedly walked the man asked, "Wait, didn't you come to visit your mother's tomb?"

"After doing something else, yes, but not in this mood, not with you here!" Edwina hissed, not looking back.

Picking up his suitcase, Hohenheim trotted after her. "You're going back to Pinako's then? So am I, since I have no-where else to stay. I heard she and Winter attend to your automail. It's so nice that that boy followed in her footsteps. How is it, having artificial limbs?"

"Stop following me!" the alchemist broke into a run.

Hohenheim found himself staring at her swishing ponytail as she ran. She's exactly like me when I was younger.

Upon reaching Pinako's home, Edwina stomped upstairs without a word, went into Winter's room and slammed the door shut. Pinako debated whether to follow her or not. About ten minutes later, Hohenheim arrived and explained the situation to the suspicious woman.

"Where is Edwina?" the blonde man asked after he had quelled the woman's anger.

"In Winter's room, though I wouldn't recommend you disturb her. Edwina has a formidable temper, as I'm sure you've seen. Did she try to punch you?" the woman replied, adding the question out of concern rather than taunting.

"No."

"Hmph, surprising."

"I'll just go check on her, just for a moment."

He headed upstairs and to his daughter's friend's room. Finding the door unlocked, he opened it a crack. Even without the strip of light, he could see his older child's splayed hair and metal arm as she lay on her side in to the bed, facing away from the door. Still keeping quiet, the man slipped into the room. As he walked over to the bed, his mind replayed yet more memories. He remembered Edwina ambushing him on the way to his office, putting down her baby sister to tug at his trouser leg as she asked him to play with them after lunch, just this once, which Alphonsa, seeming to know what was happening, grabbed at his shoelaces and looked up right at his face. He remembered those many times where the older girl would stand outside his office well past her bedtime, hoping he would tuck her in. He remembered the day they were getting their family photo, and how happy his children were to see him with them and their mother all morning.

Now at the girl's bed, he reached out to stroke her hair, for some reason hoping it would make up for the blatant neglect - but stopped short. Feeling extremely guilty, he turned and walked back out the door, closing it quietly behind him. Edwina waited until his footsteps had faded before opening her eyes.

"Human Transmutation is an incredibly stupid thing to do, never mind dangerous," Hohenheim said as he retook his place at the kitchen table. His friend noticed the guilt in his eyes, and poured him a glass of whisky as well. Den who was lying in the corner, kept her eyes fixed on him and her ears pricked. "Why didn't you at least scold them?"

"In that situation the ones who would scold and punish them would be the parents, and by that I mean you. I'm sure Trisha would have."

Hohenheim took a moment to reply as he a sip of the alcohol. "I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Why didn't you make even a phone call back?" Pinako asked, quickly and sternly returning them their original conversation. Trisha waited so faithfully for you! If you were around, Trisha might not have died, and even if she did, those girls would not think to try to resurrect her, as you could have helped them grieve! Instead those poor kids saw her die twice!"

"Resurrecting Trisha…" Hohenheim said thoughtfully. "Pinako…you…you disposed of the transmutation results, right?"

"Yeah," said woman replied, feeling suspicious.

"Was it really Trisha they made?"

"What? I told you, it was barely human. To be honest, I'm not really sure it was her…but it had to be. For the girls to go through all that pain and mutilation and make something completely unrelated to them…such a horrible thought!" The woman slammed her glass down on the table in growing anger. Den sat up.

"I'm afraid that's what I'm trying to say," Hohenheim said in a saddened tone. "The hair, the eyes, the voice, were they anything like hers?"

The older Rockbell remembered again, and that horrible realisation dawned on her. However, she shook it away to say, "So you're saying it was all their fault? You're not taking in account your absence?! How many times am I going to repeat myself?!"

"Not so loud," her friend raised a hand as he lowered his voice to a hiss, "You want to wake Edwina, do you? You don't want her to know this, right?"

But after having stuck downstairs after seeing it was clear, Edwina had heard everything. Her eyes wide and mouth agape from the same realisation as her aunt, she slipped back upstairs, trying to recollect her mind.

After they finished the drinks, the both went to bed. The next morning, as Hohenheim was packing, Pinako thought that Edwina might have calmed down by now, and called upstairs: "Ed? Are you asleep?" There came no reply and she turned to her friend. "Do you want me wake her up to say goodbye?"

"No, I don't think she'll want to see me leave again," the man replied, his tone sad again, though only for that sentence. "But thank you for helping me."

The woman was confused, but replied. "You're welcome," before noticing the man's eyes were wandering. She watched as he spotted the board of pictures, and with a curious expression, approached it. She watched a small smile appear on his face as he examined the pictures, and in that technical way again, saw his children grow. Then his eyes found the best picture of all – the family one – but frowned for a moment upon noticing his face was hidden behind the others.

"Can I have this?" he asked as he gazed at the picture, at Trisha's and Edwina's smiles, at Alphonsa's curious look, and his own expression upon lifting one of the others. He felt the tears pricking again.

"You can take as many as you like," the old woman told him, also noticing his almost-watering eyes.

"No, this one will be fine. This is the only one with the four of us together," the man replied, looking at the image a moment more before tucking it inside his coat and walked back over to his suitcase to pick it up. "You are indeed a fine fellow, Pinako," Hohenheim said, his mostly-there smile appearing again. "From the old days, you looked at my unchanging being with suspicious eyes but still welcomed me. All I can for now in gratitude is to give you some instructions that will be good for good for you."

"Hm?" the older Rockbell said, that suspicion growing.

Bathed in the sunlight of now opened door, the man replied, "Soon a terrible event will occur in this country. Flee to another, or you will be caught in it like everyone else."

"This degenerating country his always had terrible events." Her face changed to a defiant, slightly angry frown. "Why should I run away now? Moreover," she glanced at backboard. "This is the only place those girls will return to."

Another moment of silence pasted. "Well, I did warn you."

He stepped outside and began down the path.

A thought striking her, the mechanic trotted outside. "Hohenheim!"

The man stopped and looked back, feeling inquisitive again.

"Come back every now and then for a meal, eh?"

The man nodded and turned away again, waving until he heard the door close.

"It's a shame Pinako," he said, again holding back the tears. "I'll never get to eat your meals again."

Alphonsa, Winter, Ling and Ran Fan were back in the hotel room together, after Alphonsa had taken a rather important phone call. The armour girl sit on one bed, the blonde boy in the other, and the Xingese duo sat on the couch, side-by-side. Lan Fan of course still had his mask on.

"Your father?!" Winter gasped after, cutting across the explanation for a moment.

"That was pretty much my reaction," the younger Elric replied. "He's been missing for almost ten years, but it seems he's now back home…"

"That long, huh…" It struck the boy that he had never actually met Van Hohenheim.

"You should go meet him," Ling said enthusiastically.

"If I did, I'm not sure we would talk," Alphonsa replied, tapping her bandaged chin.

"You hate him?" the young woman assumed.

"'Hate?' No, not hate, just dislike, though I still care for him. But if I could, I would like to talk to him about alchemy. Having grown up reading his books, I saw my father is extremely capable in that area." Suddenly, she slapped her hand onto her her face. "Oh no. If Nee-san's there at the same time as Father, she'll pointlessly oppose everything he will say about Alchemy, due to her hatred." She shook her head as much as the bandages would allow. "I wouldn't be surprised if she thrashed him."

"I can imagine that…" Winter said sadly.

"I agree, judging on what you have said."

Another thought struck the younger Elric and she looked at the Xingese woman. "How's your relationship with your father?"

She took a moment to reply. "I don't know whether we have a good rapport or not. We've never shared a conversation."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the girl bowed her head as much as the bandages would allow. "Should I not have asked?"

"…I offer my sincerest sympathies," Winter added, wanting to hug the girl.

"Oh, please, it's not like that!" Ling replied in a slightly agitated manner. "He's just not an easy person to talk to. He's the Emperor." Her expression changed to that of both slyness and curiosity. "What do you make of that?"

"The Emperor of Xing?" the blonde boy asked, supposing it was some kind of codename.

"Indeed," the woman replied with a proud smile.

The boy took in a sharp breath and in unison, the two Amestrians declared, "That makes you a princess!" In their minds, both were imagining the typical image of a young woman in a medieval fairy tale dress and tiara, riding a horse gracefully in side-saddle, a gentle smile on her face, her cheeks rosy and hip-length hair flowing out behind her. They both giggled like a pair of immature school girls, falling back on the beds, the boy holding his stomach.

Ling looked at her servant. "Lan Fan, am I being made fun of?"

"U-Unfortunately so. Shall I do something about it?" the boy felt nervous for more than one reason this time. He really did not want to do anything to them now, not even the girl who had tied up Fu.

"No, no, I'll take care of it."

The young guard breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"Why is this so surprising?" Ling asked, having to speak a bit loud for the other two hear her over their laughter. "Didn't you wonder why a 'wanderer' would have bodyguards? Please stop. I'm not a 'princess' as you Amestrians would think. I'm simply a daughter of the Emperor."

"T-this is just too much for us," the automail mechanic said, after the two had laughed themselves out and he tried to catch his breath. "I'm sorry if I made you feel insulted."

"Well, thank you again for your kind words. Oh, and now that you know I'm royalty, do you have any more thoughts on my proposal? You could be the future Emperor. You could move up the 'social ladder', as your people would say." The would-be princess gave a sly smirk.

The boy gave another short laugh. "Well, much as I appreciate that offer, I can't accept because I have duties of my own. I have customers who need me."

"Wait," Alphonsa jumped back into the conversation, "How can a person of royalty get away with playing the vagabond and sponging meals off people?"

"We have tried to get her to stop but we can only advise her, being that we hold no authority," Lan Fan commented in a disgruntled tone.

"There are twenty-four Sons of the Emperor and nineteen Daughters of the Emperor," the Xingese woman explained, ignoring her servant's remark. "Xing is formed of the congregation of over fifty clans, and some hold more power than the others. A daughter from each of those clans is offered to the Emperor to become his concubine and bare his child. If they refuse, their status lowers. That is one of the reasons I want to become Empress. As much as it is a deep tradition, it is unfair on the women of the country and I want things to be more equal. However, I am only the Twelfth Princess, my mother being the reprehensive of the Yao Clan, and as with all royalty, the men take the priority in succession." The woman's eyes were narrowed and her arms folded again. "However, the Emperor can choose a child as his successor, regardless of their gender or status, written as an Imperial Decree. He recently took ill and is bed-ridden. His royal doctors have realised he will not live much longer. This has started a succession war between the clans."

Before she could continue more, Alphonsa spoke again. "So that's why you are seeking the secret to immortality? So the Emperor will choose you?"

"But if you give him the secret of immortality, that would means you won't ever become Empress," Winter concluded.

"Gaining the secret to immortality will making the Emperor happy, even if for a short while. While he lives on, he will rise my clan's standing for my efforts. When that happens, I'll give it a little while more before I seize the throne." The Amestrians just looked shocked, staying silent. "In coming to this country, I hold the fate of the five hundred thousand members of the Dao clan in my hands. I'm depending on nothing more than the Philosopher's Stone and the legends surrounding it." She sharply pointed a finger at the younger Amestrian. "I know the secrets of your body and being a soul affixed an iron body, and without that perishable organic body, you are the closed thing to an immortal, apart from those creatures we met. Your method just seems easier."

There was more silence - then Alphonsa laughed. A deep, amused, taunting laugh. "You are such so stupid if you think this is good. Let alone being immortal, with this shell I cannot experience so much as touch, never mind the simple joys of normal life. This body is nothing more than a time bomb."

The Xingese girl's softened in an apologetic manner.

Mustang sat on the couch outside her hospital room, an IV drip in one arm and her notebook on her lap. After a few days recovery, the doctors had allowed her to walk around the ward, Hawkeye of course right by her side, while another officer was assigned to Havoc (and to his disappointment, it was not a woman). The Colonel looked up from the medical book she had found as a familiar man slumped down next to her with a huff of air.

"What are you in for?" she asked the man, upon recognising him.

"Lumbago," the doctor replied sharply as he chewed on a toothpick and looked the solider up and down, and wondered just how she had so injured, having not seen wounds like those outside of the border wars or Civil War.

"Having to stand for the whole day can take a toll on the body."

There was a pause before the man suddenly replied, "That was a very good trick you pulled, Ms. Mustang."

At her side, Hawkeye stiffened in suspicion, his eyes fixing on the man named Dr. Knox, but the woman herself still remained calm as she closed the medical book she had requested and lowered it and her voice. "So, you guessed I was scheming, yet you still identified that corpse as Second Lieutenant Ross?" The woman gave a small chuckle.

The man's fists clenched. "It should have been like I said – 'couldn't you have just intimidated her or something' – or at least have burnt her with more skill. The way that thing's limbs were bent was almost laughable. However, since the teeth matched perfectly, it was able to be passed off as the Second Lieutenant. If the coroner wasn't me, your plan could very well have been ruined. Sometimes not even you can account for everything." He was about to change the conversation by inquiring about the woman's health when a more important question pushed its way forward. "…Speaking of which, was it you who started that fire at the prison?"

The Flame Alchemist bowed her head slightly. "Yes. Sorry about that. I got into a fight, and well, anger and alchemy do not mix well."

"You know, I'm amazed. You expected me, whom you've never even seen since Ishval, to help you."

"We were war buddies. And still are, I would think."

"But 'war buddies' is such a causal relationship and hardly any go beyond the conflict. However, I do miss those days. You burn them, I dissect them." Knox shook his head. "The war was nothing more than one humongous testing ground for what the human body can suffer." He bit down hard on the piece of wood in his mouth, snapping it. "We never were war buddies. We were accomplices." The doctor stood, deciding to wait somewhere else for his treatment. "Let me give you some long-needed advice – doing such risky, almost amoral things will result in retribution one day."

Mustang's eyes were back on the book. "I've already received it."

The man's eyes switched to the page. "Who's the patient?"

"One of my subordinates. His spinal cord was injured in his last fight and he's paralyzed from the waist down."

"…There's not really much that can be done about that," Knox replied, then wondered for a moment why his voice had gone soft. "There is rehabilitation for injuries such as that, but few get the motivation to even try, and even fewer succeed."

In the hospital room, Falman paused the conversation to hold out an ash tray to catch the blackened end of the cigarette.

"They only let me have one a day, just let me enjoy it, ok?" Havoc told him in a disgruntled manner. "So, after you guys had caught up to each other, where did she go?"

"To Xing. She's going to stay there until the situation settles." Falman replied, his attention caught by the hearting side of two children playing with a ball on the grass, the smiling boy's nurse helping him stand up from his crutches to catch it as his female friend raised it. "I gave the information I had to the Colonel and she said it 'changes this situation a little'."

"I hope that's a good thing," Havoc said, following the other's man gaze to the children, but instead of feeling some hope, he felt jealousy. The boy only had a broken leg. "I'm going to be laughed at as 'the soldier who retired from service because he got stabbed by a woman'."

"Have you thought about getting automail?" Breda asked, getting irritated by the man's lack of optimism.

"No. The nervous system in my lower body's been completely served, so it's impossible. Besides, useless as they are, I don't want my legs amputated."

The other Second Lieutenant sighed. "You will still stay in the Military. And you will find something useful to do until you can walk again." He slammed the door as he left, but made sure it stayed open just a little bit, just in case.

Hawkeye felt a little worried as the plump man briskly walked up to him and the Colonel with a rather foul expression.

"Hey, Ma'am, can I see the notebook a minute?" he asked gruffly.

"No, not yet," Mustang responded dismissively, not looking up from the writing around the spinal diagram.

"But it's about Havoc, I have an idea," Breda said, leaning closer and raising his arm. "Doctor Marcoh."

The sharpshooter was now also leaning in close, his expression still concerned. The dark-haired woman quickly closed the medical book shut and opened her notes, her mouth in that concentrated frown. Finding the correct tab, she read to herself. The medical field alchemist with a Philosopher's Stone. It's so obvious! If only I had thought of that…and much earlier…

"Can I extend my leave, Ma'am?" the brunette asked.

"Do whatever it takes. Go!"

The man's mood instantly lifted and he turned and walked even more briskly towards the door.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" the ten-year-old girl yelled as Dr. Marcoh cleaned the burn on her hand as gently as he could. "All done." He said after one more dab of the cleaning alcohol. "You were pretty tough there, you know," he said with a kind smile as he wrapped a fresh bandage. "Taking pain like that without crying is much braver than lighting ten fireworks in a minute."

"I said sorry," the guilty child said sheepishly before glancing at her father. "Mum grounded me for a week and Dad's making sure I don't sneak out."

"What do you say now?" her father asked as he held out her coat.

"Thank you, Dr. Mauro," the girl said in a monotone while pouting.

"You're welcome. Try to be good." The man replied, before waving to them. They waved back, the girl keeping her sullen expression as she closed the door.

"Hm, that's…nine this morning," the man said to himself as he watched his tools for his next patient. "I guess I can take a break."

As he sat down with a cup of tea and a sandwich, someone else knocked on the door. The medical alchemist sighed. "Every time…"

"Yes?" he asked he opened the door. Then he immediately tried to close it.

"I just wish to talk, Dr. Marcoh," Breda told him after sticking his foot in the door.

"It's Mauro," Marcoh replied. "I think you have the wrong person. I get this a lot. Now please leave."

"Don't play innocent with me." The soldier's face took on a dark look and he placed a hand on the door, opening it more. "You're the Dr. Marcoh who created a Philosopher's Stone."

"I don't know what you're talking about. No-one can create Philosopher's Stone unless they have no morals."

The man's eyes widened as a black-clad, round man in a cloak peered out from behind the soldier, drooling. "Can't I just eat him?"

His eyes wide in fear, Marcoh tried to quickly slamming the door shut, but Breda easily shoved it fully open, almost breaking it, and causing the doctor to lose his footing as he was pushed back.

"What are you getting so worked up for, Doctor?" the officer said as he approached him with that terrible grin. The man shuffled away on his back. "It's been a long time." Envy said as it changed back into its favoured form. I'm so happy you remember me." It walked up to the man again as the morph completed. "It seems that Lust had some assistance from you a little bit ago. She's sadly dead now, so I've come to visit instead. Gluttony just tagged along."

The younger homunculus had his nose on the ground. "It smells like Lust!" his expression fell. "It smells like Lust…"

"W-why did you come here?" the man asked, trying to hide his fright beneath his anger.

"She was right," Envy went on. "This is 'such a cheap clinic'. If you were still in the military, you'd have a fully equipped laboratory given to you. Why would any human willingly live like this?" It crouched in front of the man with an amused expression. "Now, now, no need for that fierce look. There's no reason for us to hurt you. You see, we're running out of playing pieces and that vexes us." It grabbed the front of the Marcoh's shirt and pulled his face right close to its own. "Let's work together again! Come to Central!"

The man screwed up his face to avoid letting the tears fall. "Just leave me out of this! Please!"

"Nope, you can't refuse." The wispy-haired creature drew the man up into a standing position by his shirt. "Just like Lust said, if you try anything, we'll wipe this town off the map." It's voice lower to a whisper on the second half of the sentence.

"Then just kill me!" the man cried desperately.

"You think you can escape by dying? So naïve." The creature's face spread into the frightening grin. "Those poor, innocent Ishvalans, the convicts on death row, and even some of your fellow men – you killed them all to create a Philosopher's Stone. And here you are, living a peaceful, carefree life. You have no right to die so easily! So, as well as the crazy stuff, if you commit suicide or something, we'll wipe out this town. So don't put any resistance and everything will be fine. Easy to understand, right?"

As Envy spoke, Gluttony had sniffed his way over to one of the Doctor's cabinets. Curious he followed the familiar smell to a small bottle at the back and clumsy shoved aside the other bottles (knocking a few down to smash on the floor), and picked it up, gazing at the red liquid inside.

A Red Stone? He asked himself. He held onto in his fist and followed his 'sibling as it drew the now silently weeping doctor towards the door.

A few hours later, the real Breda came to visit.

"Doctor," Breda called as he knocked on the door. "Doctor, my name is Second Lieutenant Breda. I need to talk to you."

"Oh, hello again," a straw-hatted farmer said upon seeing the man as he headed back to his cattle herd.

"Is the doctor here away?" the officer asked him. "Wait 'again'?"

"Either you have a bad memory or are a trickster. You visited here a while ago," the other man said with a chuckle.

"'A while ago?'"

"Yes, in your military uniform. Did you forget something in there?"

"This is my first time…" the man's voice faded out as a horrible thought entered his head and he drew out his gun before reaching for the handle and as he expected, found it unlocked. He rushed inside, the weapon raised.

"Damn!" he hissed upon seeing the damage of a struggle. "Damn you all to hell!"

Author's Note: I think I put enough originality in again, dear readers :). BTW, I did not change Ling's royal number as it does not affect the story, just in case you were wondering.

So, did I put enough originality into Edwina and Hohenheim's interactions? I think I did ok.
I hope you enjoyed it.

Thank you ^_^.