January 16th, 1991

Ted watched the ten alchemists leave at the end of the class period with a feeling of satisfaction, if slight trepidation. They were the first ones to successfully complete all of the training he and the other Amestrian alchemists had been putting them through, and tomorrow they would be joining the Western Drachman forces down in the valley, as Mihalov's forces began a secondary push to fully secure the area and start forcing Savahin's men back towards Petrayevka. The attack also served the purpose of keeping Savahin from pulling men from the West to fight against the newest aggression to the East.

General Marskaya and his people had declared the East in open rebellion against Petrayevka, and the Zinovek regime in particular. The past several days had been a series of scattered attacks in which they had reclaimed several Drachman military facilities in the Eastern mountain range. While most of those were clearing soldiers out of small towns, and claiming supply outposts, the Zinoveks needed those outposts.

Ted hoped his father-and-brothers-in-law to the East were safe. With the north-western pass secured, Niki had rejoined them here, though he was going to be going forward with the new West Drachman alchemists as a rallying point and visible leader. Mihalov would be remaining in the city, only because it was required of him. Ted had no doubts that, given the option, the man would have also been moving towards Petrayevka with the soldiers. Sometimes it was hard to be a bureaucrat. They had not yet discussed which, if any, Amestrian alchemists would be going to the valley with the new alchemists.

"You look lost in thought."

Ted hadn't even noticed Trisha standing there. "There's a lot to think about these days."

"Well, that's true." His cousin smiled. "Home or mission?"

"Politics?" Ted shrugged. "I'm always thinking about home. The sooner we get done with our mission here, the sooner we get home, and the less of my son's childhood I miss." The photo that had come back with Amalea Finn—who had brought news for everyone when she and Rothschild had flown back only a few days after leaving—showed him just how fast his baby boy was growing. Despite only being gone a couple of months so far, it felt like he had missed a lot. Nikolai was already just over three months old. He was bigger, and his eyes were wide open, and he had a little more hair. Anika's letter detailed how he was starting to focus on faces and objects and how his favorite toy so far was the extra-soft plush white tiger. Not that he did much more than cling to it, but that was enough.

"That's the hardest part of being gone, no matter how old they are," Trisha agreed. "Though it doesn't look like we'll be here too much longer."

"Some of us anyway. I wonder how many of us will be going East."

"We should find out shortly. Twilight wants a meeting with all of us before dinner."

Hoping the news would be good, Ted headed for the entrance. "Then let's not keep her waiting."


"What do you mean you're sending me home?" Ted stared at the Twilight Alchemist, demanding an answer.

She did not look at all surprised at the question. Clearly, she had been expecting it, and Ted wondered if she was even remotely grateful that he had waited for her to finish the meeting before confronting her. "It's not just you, Proteus. You and Glacier are both going back on this supply flight. Whisper and Sensation will be back within a fortnight. The State Alchemists have done our jobs, even beyond our original mission, and we've been ordered to pull out slowly."

"You're sending three of them East with the Drachman military." Under Tringham's command, taking Rapid and Live Wire, along with all of the new Western Drachman Alchemists.

"Only until the newly trained alchemists have seen combat and gotten a little seasoning. A couple of fights under their belt," Twilight repeated her earlier statement.

"You're going on that… tour thing with Mihalov."

"It's a mission, and that's all you need to know about it."

Tight lipped, and uninformative about anything outside his immediate mission. That was her MO with him ever since his team had arrived from the north. Ted had no idea what the big picture was, and that made it difficult. "Is someone displeased with my performance up here?" he finally asked. "Have I put so much as a hair out of line? Done anything other than exactly what I've been told?" That had been the condition for being ordered up here at all.

For a moment, her face was Aunt Sara face again. She motioned for him to sit down at the table, which implied this might be a longer conversation.

Eager to finally get some answers, Ted complied.
Sara sat down across from him. "Ted, your work has been exemplary, but you're still skating on thin ice with most of the Amestrian Brass and any of the civilian government who have any hint of what went on or know about your hearing. Frankly, so are Franz and I. His decision not to have you imprisoned for desertion and the fact you weren't run out of the military is still classified information, but there are rumors even beyond that.

Beyond that, not everyone in the public approves of how the military—

meaning the President and the higher ups— is handling this situation, even though we've entered into this alliance. But I'm betting you know that. There's also a lot of Anti-Drachman sentiment and Pro-Amestrian sentiment that's been drug up by all of this. Not everyone wants us involved, at all. There's a decent percentage of the population who would rather we just permanently closed the border, and a smaller group that thinks we should be taking advantage of this to grab land in Drachma."

Ted snorted. "What do they think we'd get out of it? More ice and snow?"

"Leverage, perhaps. To make a point. A display of power. There's a lot of rumbling about how our military isn't what it used to be."

"You mean even more corrupt? Amestris started wars for decades…centuries… and it all turned out to be a crazy alchemy plot. Bradley wasn't even interested in making Amestris better. He was a homunculus."

"That doesn't mean people didn't like the power it gave Amestris. We are depleted from the last war with Drachma. Which we almost didn't win. That's part of what has made it easier to make piece with our border countries and make allies, even though those could also be temporary. As long as the alliance gives power and stability to Amestris, people will be for it, even if it's for different reasons. Most people don't join the military for purely altruistic reasons… not even State Alchemists." That came with a rueful smile. "There's a lot of pride, and a lot of wanting to prove one's self. We're egotistical. Officers want to make rank, to make a name, to make more money, to gain more respect, or more authority. For a lot of Amestrians, military or otherwise, pushing back at Drachma would not only be justified, but a chance for them to prove their mettle like in the old days. Making allies is good for business, but not if your business of preference needs a war."

She was right, and none of what she was saying was new information to him, not really, but Ted hadn't ever really tried to put it together in those terms. "I still feel like there's something you're not telling me, that you don't trust me with." He gave it one more nudge, not that he was expecting much.

Nor did she give him much, besides a shrug. "There are parts of this plan you aren't privy to because, in short, you don't have the clearance. Also, because if you don't know, you can't screw it up. If you're not here, you can't take the blame, and if you don't know, you'll be harder to implicate later."

"So, you're saying I'm a liability."

"Ted, you were a liability in Xing. You were a liability when you ran away and abandoned your entire duty to follow your heart and your personal convictions. You are not now, but only so long as you leave. Charging off to do what we feel is right and damn it all to everyone else may be what Elrics are known for… but it's not what good military officers do. Saving your ass, even as carefully as he did it, has not made Franz look good within the military, not with the upper brass who know what's going on. The risk of the mission that saved me was also not looked well on. It was a very personal calculated risk. If you asked the average Amestrian, the Assembly members included, if they thought that mission was a good idea beforehand, they'd have said to call his bluff, and let whatever poor girl it was die over getting more involved."

"I hear a but in there somewhere."

"-But there are still a lot of people in the military who are soldiers in the traditional sense of what that means. Some of them were in the last war, and a lot of them were raised on its stories. A lot of them hate Drachmans as much as people used to hate Ishvallans, and Aerugeans, and Cretans, and everyone else who wasn't of proud Amestrian heritage. Only the Drachmans were more successful. I can't even tell you who really started that conflict anymore, but if you look at the history records far enough back, Amestris was never blameless. Those expansionist policies took hold in a people that accepted them. We can't go around blaming homunculi. They exploited what was already there. And others will do it again. Honestly, the best place you could ask to be right now is stuck in Central, where you can protect Anika and your son from the people who live right there, in our home, that will hate and distrust her not only because she is Drachman, but because if they know who her father is, they will despise her for her family. Our family has always been more accepting than most, and that's because of Dad and Uncle Al's very unique experiences.

But, I feel like we've gone far deeper into philosophy than I meant. If you want to help your country, your family, your uncle, and yourself, you will go home without a complaint, and sit at that desk, and be incredibly diligent, and look suitably miserable and punished for as long as this mess lasts or until you're told otherwise."

"How long might that be?"

For a moment, her expression was sad and serious. "Depending on how this turns out, possibly the rest of your career."

Ted did not like the tone of her voice, or the look on her face. "Aunt Sara…. You are planning on going home again…right?"

The smile she gave him was frighteningly familiar…because it looked like his grandfather's…and his own. "Believe me, Ted, I have no intention of dying now, and anyone who tries to get between me and Central when I'm done is going to be very, very sorry."


Lea Pourelle was not the fanciest restaurant in Central, but it was definitely a notch above the places Charlie and Shelby usually went. Not that he had been about to object to any place she chose if it meant she would sit down and talk with him.

Still it required a little dressing up, and having taken nothing of any style with him when he left home, Charlie had asked permission from his mother to raid his father's closet. It felt weird, looking through his father's clothes. Apparently, the man never threw anything away, because the back of his father's side of the cramped walk-in held a variety of surprisingly stylish collared button-downs that had to be at least fifteen or twenty years old. There were also a couple of pairs of khakis, and a few pairs of casual leather shoes. Charlie finally picked a blue-and-white checked button-down and khaki pants, and the leather shoes that went best with his own brown leather belt.

After a shower, he shaved, leaving the goatee, but making sure it was trimmed up. When he was done, he was startled at how much more mature he looked. He hadn't spent a lot of time looking at himself in the mirror lately.

What was even more shocking was how well his father's old clothes fit him, not just in cut, but style. His curly hair was a couple of shades darker than his father's, more of a light brown than a sandy blond; his eyes a deeper shade of stormy gray, but he had a feeling if he shaved completely, the reflection he was looking at would be very similar to the oldest photos of his father; the ones tucked away in albums that pre-dated his parents even dating.

His mother was downstairs as he headed out. She smiled. "You clean up nice."

"I just hope Shelby still thinks so." Not that looking good would win her back, but he had to make the effort.

"Well you certainly look respectable, and handsome. I hope dinner goes well."

"Thanks, Mom. Any advice?" He knew that well might not mean the same thing to his mother as it did to him right now, but she'd never steer him wrong.

"Take flowers. There is never a bad time to give someone you love flowers."

Which was how Charlie came to be waiting for Shelby outside Lea Pourelle with a bouquet of red roses and white tulips, trying not to feel like an awkward teen on a first date. This would have been so much simpler if that had been what was happening tonight.

He recognized the car as it pulled into the parking lot, and followed it, for the purpose of being there to hold the door open for Shelby as she got out.

He was immediately grateful he had, as she emerged, looking up at him with a startled expression. He took her in all at once; her beautiful blond curls and stunning eyes, and almost lost his tongue. Pulling himself together, Charlie held out a hand as she stood, and the flowers in his other. "Good evening, M'lady."

Shelby took the hand, steadying herself as she straightened up, and Charlie got a full look at her, and the casual but stylish floral dress—reds and pinks and oranges on white—that flattered her curves. Though it was a bit of a shock to see the round swell of her belly, even having been told she was pregnant again. All the other times, he'd been there for the gradual change. Shelby let go of his hand as soon as she had closed the door, and took the flowers. "Charlie, I almost didn't recognize you."

"That seems to be the common reaction," Charlie admitted with a sheepish smile. "I'm beginning to wonder if I should have just shaved it all off."

Shelby looked at him for another moment, considering. "It's not a bad look. Just different. Shall we go inside?"

"Of course." He offered her an arm, with no illusions that she might not take it, but it was still polite.
He also took it as nothing more than politeness when she accepted his arm, and they went into the restaurant and asked for a table for two. She didn't say anything else to him until they were both seated, and the waiter had left to take their drink orders.
"Thank you for the flowers."

"You're welcome."
Then came more awkward silence. Charlie had expected it, but he hadn't been sure when or how the best way would be to start the conversation. They hid it for a time by looking over the menu, and ordering their food. Only after their food came did he break the silence. He could tell she was waiting for him to speak first, to give him a chance to explain himself, or at least start the conversation. He had apologized on the phone, but he had a feeling he was going to be doing a lot of that. "Thanks for agreeing to have dinner with me."

"Well I couldn't have you coming by the house without talking first." Despite the harsh reality of the words, Shelby's tone was very matter-of-fact.

It stung. "I understand."

"Do you really?" Shelby looked up from her plate of stewed vegetables and roast sausages. "Abby cried every night for a month. She kept asking me where you were, and when you were coming home, and why you weren't there to tuck her in and read her favorite bedtime story. That upset Cameron, because while he didn't really understand, his sister was upset. Summer doesn't have much of a memory of you, so I don't think she's really registered you being gone."

Charlie's stomach twisted uncomfortably. "What did you tell Abby?"

"I told her you had to go away for work, like before, and that we didn't know when you would be home but it might be a long time. She stopped asking every day after that, though she doesn't really ask anymore at all, except if she's not feeling well. Though she cries for you in her sleep."

If she was trying to make him feel guilty, it was working. "That's a lot of past tense."

"You've been gone for months."

"I know I can't undo the damage I've done, Shels… but for whatever it's worth, I'll do anything you want me to in order to try and make amends." He set down his fork, his appetite gone. "All I've done the past few months is miss you like crazy."

Shelby did not look convinced. "Then why didn't you just come home?"

"Because I was screwed up and not thinking straight. I… I just thought that I couldn't. If I did, I would just be more of a burden for you. Another child to take care of instead of a partner who was any real use to you. Once I left… I thought that was it."

"Yet here you are."

"Being gone…working somewhere else… I guess it gave me more perspective. I realized there was no getting away or starting over elsewhere. What I did to you… I couldn't do that to someone else. I hadn't given you peace, or closure, or made your life easier… none of the things I thought would happen did. Then I heard about Dad… and I called Uncle Will… and I realized that there was no way I could live my life the way I was. It wasn't better, and I still love you more than anything in the universe." There it was. He had been thinking for so long about how to tell her how he felt, and he could only hope she believed him. He wasn't sure he dared hope she actually understood.

Shelby looked pained, before she averted her eyes and took another bite of her meal. "There are a lot of Is in that explanation."

"There's a lot of self-blame in that explanation, too," Charlie replied, bitterly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Shelby. You tried to be there for me. You did everything I could ever have asked you to… and I thought it wasn't fair to you. I couldn't see that it wasn't just out of duty… or… I don't even know anymore. I've screwed up over and over, and every time all I seem to do is hurt you. So… tell me what you want me to do." He tried to get her to meet his eyes again, his tone begging. "What I want doesn't matter if it's not what you want."

Shelby shook her head. "You're right, it doesn't, but you don't get to put it on me to make this decision alone either. What do you want, Charlie? In high school, you told me all you ever wanted in the world was me, and then our family. But that wasn't enough for you. When things got hard, you didn't turn to me; you turned to almost anyone but me, and I don't give a damn why you think you did it or how good you think your intentions were. You told me it was to keep from burdening me… but none of them ever turned up pregnant, did they?"

He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he wasn't about to cut her off. "No… not that I've ever been told."

"Because you were using protection with them, or they were." This was not phrased as a question. "I didn't make you after we discovered your allergy, because I loved you, because I trusted you. But look where that got me."

"I know… I was stupid, it was wrong of me."

"We were both young, and incredibly stupid." Now she was looking at him, and while her voice had never risen beyond the volume of low public conversation, there was bite in it. "You didn't know what you were getting into, and neither did I. We were idealists and we thought we could do anything. I thought with you, I could do anything, that you really loved me more than anything… but that's not true. You lied to me, and it's possible you lied to yourself. You lied, you went behind my back, you cheated, and then when you really needed me, and I really needed you… you walked out. You didn't even give me a say in it; just decided on your own what was best and left me to clean up the mess." She sighed, then eyed him again. "You weren't with anyone while you've been gone, were you?"
"Shit, no!" Charlie jumped, though he realized he probably should have expected the question. "There hasn't been anyone, I swear."
"How do I know I can believe what you're saying now?"
"I'll give you the phone number for my boss. I lived above his shop, ate dinner with him at his place right behind it every night. He's a nosy old busy-body widower. He'll tell you." He was sure Eli would vouch for him if asked, at least if he realized she was asking about the same man. Eli never had known his real name, but the man was smart. He might have figured out Charlie wasn't going by his old name.

"I might do that." Shelby let that part drop, or at least seemed to. She took a few more bites before she spoke again. "If it were just you and me, this would be easier, but it's not. We have to think about what's best for Abby, and Cam, and Summer, and this new one. They need love and stability, not drama. And certainly not a father who comes and goes and isn't there when it matters. So… it does matter what you want, as much as what I want, because I need to know Charlie. Do you even want to be a father? A parent? "

"What does that matter now? It's four babies late to be asking."

"You sired them. That's not the same as raising them. Commit to being a parent, if not than admit it and move on."

"I told you, I can't just move on," Charlie replied, feeling everything slipping through his grasp; everything he had cared about, everything he'd made in his life that meant anything. "I love our children. I would die to protect them. I want to be there at meal time, and bath time, and bedtime stories, and even covered in spit-up in the middle of the night, walking a crying baby because I love them. The idea of them growing up without me… it's killing me. I love them, and I love you, Shels."

"Do you love me, or do you miss having me? And do you love me enough? Do you love your children enough?" Shelby put down her flatware again. The corners of her eyes were glistening. "Caring and emotion aren't enough. This is a commitment, and a team effort, that you've been running from ever since it got hard. Well, I never had that option. I've put my heart and soul into making this work, into keeping our family in one piece, and now to minimizing the damage of the hole you left in our lives. I supported your career, I took care of our family, I worked to be everything you needed, and our children need. I'm balancing work, and school, and raising our children, and soon there's going to be another one. Our great love of the ages fell apart in barely five years. You'll forgive me if I put what's best for our children above anything else."

Of course, he would, because that was what he wanted, though it seemed they might have very different ideas of what that entailed at this point. It sounded as though Shelby had already mostly made up her mind. Charlie had no idea what he could say that would keep this from blowing up further, or unravelling the rest of the way. "Do you love me?"

"I did," she replied. "Enough to lie to my parents to be with you. To marry you against their wishes at seventeen. I defied the world and put off my other life goals for you, and then for Abigail…and Cameron and Summer…. I lost myself for you. I'm a different person now, and I don't know if I can still love you the way I did. It can't be the way it was before; blindly and unreserved." Shelby picked up her sparkling apple cider and sipped it. "But… I'm not ready to just throw everything in just yet either. Abby still adores you and…I've missed you."

The tiniest ray of light. "I want to come home," Charlie told her immediately. "I want to be with you, and our children again. I want to help you around the house, and take care of you, and be there the way I should have. I can't promise I'm going to be great at it, not at first, but I'll learn, and I'll heal. Just please… please don't give up on us yet."

Shelby nodded thoughtfully. "I don't want you at the house. Not until we decide what's best for the children, or see if there's any hope left of making anything work. I'm not even sure I should tell them you're in town, honestly."

"That's fair." At this point, Charlie would have agreed to almost anything. He had half been expecting her to bring divorce papers to dinner. "I won't come over to the house without your permission. I promise."

"All right. Though, all I can promise you is that, right now, I'm willing to talk to you again."

Which meant he must have said something right tonight. "Thank you, Shels. If there is anything that I can do, please, just tell me."
"I'll keep that in mind. What are you planning to do with yourself… assuming you're staying in town?"

Given what he had just promised, going back to Eli's was pretty much out of the question. "Well, I'll be helping Mom out as much as I can. She's not spending much time anywhere but the hospital these days and… I guess I'll have to go talk to my commanding officer and see if I can go back to work. I've been doing mechanic work with my hand for months, and it doesn't hurt as much as it used to, so they might let me back on active duty." He had been on long-term medical leave when he left, so he should still have his commission, in theory. "That is, when I get cleared to go back. I expect they'll run me through a physical and some PT again to be sure."

Shelby nodded. "They're not likely to send you North again, thank goodness. I wish they would pull the rest of the alchemists back out, or all the Amestrians really."

"You do?" Charlie had heard a lot of varying opinions back in town. The country was surprisingly divided on the subject he'd found, listening to the media.

"Don't you? You still have family up there, and not just Gloria. I don't want anyone else we know to die in someone else's fight. We got our people out, and while I feel terrible for all the innocent people in Drachma who are just caught in the middle, it's not our war."

"Well, as you said, we don't have to worry about anyone else getting sent up there," Charlie pointed out, not entirely sure how to respond directly to that opinion. "And if the news is accurate, Western Drachma is winning their fight, and the Eastern rebellion is pushing hard. They won't need Amestris or our allies at all soon and they didn't ask for any regular Amestrian soldiers." If they had, he would have been far more reluctant to consider even going to talk to his commanding officer about his commission. He could still take a medical discharge, and no one would have blamed him for it. "I can hardly believe Gloria willingly went back."

"She's doing her job," Shelby pointed out. "She and Alexei both. It's what they love, and it's part of his heritage, and his family. You know… they had a beautiful wedding."

Another thing he should have been there for. "I'm sure it was. Gloria has great taste."

"Abby thought she looked like a princess in an old folk tale." Shelby smiled, her expression much softer when she spoke of their daughter. "She's already starting to read, and she had quite the imagination."

"What does she like to pretend?"

That was all it took to get Shelby talking about their kids. No matter how she felt about him, or how guarded she was about letting him near them, she couldn't keep from bragging about how advanced Abby already was, and the little pretend stories she came up with, and her drawings, and Cameron and how much he loved animals more than anything, and how quickly Summer was growing, and walking, and trying to talk like her big sister and brother. She went on through the rest of dinner, and dessert, before winding down again.

"What about this one?" Charlie finally got up the courage to ask, nodding in her direction. "Are you doing okay?"

Shelby shrugged. "We're okay, though this has been harder than the last time. Doctor wants me to take it easier, but that won't happen until the semester is over at the very least."

"You're due before that."

"Funny, I hadn't noticed."

"Sorry." Charlie took a bite of his panna cotta. "I just... worry. I meant it when I said if you need anything, just tell me. If there's any way I can make this easier for you going forward."

"We're doing all right, now."

Not sure how to respond to that, Charlie finished dessert in silence, then paid the bill. "Dinner again soon?" he asked as he offered her a hand to stand.

Shelby accepted it. "I need some time to process all of this," she replied, letting go again as soon as she was standing. "I'll call you."

"All right. I'll be waiting." Charlie had to resist the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Right now, that felt like it would be a very wrong step. Shelby's body language was still guarded. "Would you like me to walk you back to the car?"

"No. I'm fine, but thank you." Shelby finally gave him a small smile. "Have a good evening."

He watched her go, giving her a few seconds to get ahead and walk on her own. Then, Charlie followed, though he stopped at the edge of the lot, waiting until she was safely in the car, and pulling out of the parking lot, before heading for the bus stop to get a ride back to his mother's house. It had been a long, and complicated evening, though he couldn't help but feel that he might, if he didn't screw up again, have a chance.

Shelby had taken the flowers with her.