The old man walked into the graveyard. He'd made a lot of mistakes in his life, but marrying her was the one thing he'd done right.

The headstone read Trisha Elric 1878-1904.

"Hello Trisha," he said softly. "You're not going to believe this, but Ed called me his father. It was preceded by 'rotten,' but I'll take it."

He fell silent, wondering if he dared tell her the next part.

"I offered, you know. I offered to trade my life for Al's, but Edward would not have it. I suppose I shouldn't have offered. I should have just done it."

He glanced over at the burned out ruins of his house.

"He gave up his alchemy for Alphonse you know. I asked around about him. He's quite famous. Hero of the people. He helped hundreds along the way. Saved the lives of everyone in Amestris. His alchemy defined him. Yet he gave it up without a moment's hesitation. You raised a hell of a man, Trisha. Did a better job than I probably would have." He took a deep breath and looked away, into the distance. "Do you think... do you think he will forgive me if I give him one gift, here at the end of my life?"

He picked up a stick and began idly tracing a circle on the ground.

"No, you're right. It'll probably piss him off. But that too is part of a parent's job." He began making inscriptions in the circle.

"I know it's not fair. I've had more years than any man is entitled to, but I really want a few more, just so I can watch him and Al." He shrugged. "But I guess a man can't have everything."

He clapped his hands and touched the circle, which flared to life with a brilliant blue light.

Down the lane, Winry saw the light. "Is that Ed and Al? Are they back?" She ran to hilltop, but when she got there, there was nothing but a circle by the gravestone.

.

The universe was blinding white. The outline of a being laughed at him. "Really?" it said. "You couldn't wait? You had to speed things up?"

"I am here to ask that my son's Portal of Truth be restored."

The being grinned mockingly. "He traded his portal for his brother's body and soul. He cannot go back from that."

"He cannot, but I can. My portal for his. It is an equivalent exchange."

"Is it, indeed? You are dying, Van Hohenheim. Your portal will disintegrate when you do, whereas his will last many years."

"True," the old man nodded. "But my portal contains Truths that no other does. I have lived longer, seen more, communed at length with each of 536,329 souls, with their insights, their wisdom. It is not merely my portal, but all of ours together. More than equivalent."

Truth appeared to consider. "Once your portal is gone, the souls that have sustained you will be free and you will not have enough energy of your own to return to the world. You will remain here, as the body of Alphonse did, until you fade from existence."

"There are worse fates."

"And if you do not cross back over, there will be no one to tell your son of your sacrifice. He will never know what you gave for him."

"One does not give a true gift to incur a debt. Not even a debt of gratitude."

Truth began to laugh. "Right answer!"

They watched as Hohenheim's gate began to deconstruct and another to reconstruct nearby. "Huh," Hohenheim said under his breath. "That's more tastefully designed than something I would have expected from Edward."

"One last warning," Truth said. "Just as he will not know who restored his gate, he may never figure out it's been restored at all."

It was Hohenheim's turn to smile. "He's stubborn and set in his ways, that one. He'll try alchemy at least one more time."

.

Two years later

.

Ed knelt on the roof of his house, box of nails in one hand, hammer in the other. He'd been procrastinating on this chore for no particular reason, but if the roof started to leak in the spring rains, Winry would kill him. He positioned the shingle, took a single nail from the box, careful not to spill the others, raised the hammer and ...

"Ow!"

Ok, so home repairs weren't his thing. Oh what the hell, he thought. He placed the box of nails next to the shingle. He carefully planned out how many steel nails he would deconstruct and reconstruct inside the board; moving the lignan fibers in the wood so they would abut against the steel, holding tightly to it without being severed. He clapped his hands and pressed them to the roof, only half expecting anything to happen.

A weak, half flicker of light answered back.

Only years of training and practice kept him from abandoning the transmutation half way through and backing away in astonishment. He poured everything into the transmutation and a brilliant light sprung up, completing the rearrangement exactly as he had pictured. Edward stared at his own hands. It wasn't possible. He'd once traded his arm to bond Al's soul to armour. Then Al had traded his soul to get Edward his arm back. He'd traded his portal for Al. That could only mean...

"Al! Al!" He shouted frantically. He got up, accidentally knocking over the box of nails and ran towards the ladder, heedless of the scattered nails rolling around the roof. "Al!"

Alphonse was almost to the top of the ladder when he heard his brother's anguished cry. He quickly hauled himself up. "What is it?"

Edward has a panicked look in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ed grabbed Al's arms, squeezing them make sure they were solid, counted Al legs (there were two), looked at his own hands, looked over at the repaired roof, looked back at Al, then back at his own hands. "I just used alchemy."

"That's not possible," Al shook his head. "Truth said you'd never be able to use alchemy again."

"Maybe..." Ed's brain grasped for an explanation. "Maybe Truth lied?"

Al let out an exasperated snort. "Truth doesn't lie, Ed. That's why he's called Truth."

"Well you explain it then," Ed shouted.

Al walked over to the repaired spot on the roof to look for himself. "Those are transmutation marks," he conceded. "But you put the shingle on a little crooked."

"Yeah well I wasn't expecting it to work!" Ed snapped.

Al ignored him, clapped his hands and reset the shingle to rights.

"You alchemy doesn't seem to be affected," Ed noted. "So your portal must still be intact."

"You think that would work?" Al had never considered it before. "Trading one portal for another?"

"It would be an equivalent exchange," Ed mused.

"Yeah, but who has a deep enough understanding of alchemy and likes you enough to give up their own portal for you?"