Hello! From today, I will revisit the first chapters (and probably more) of this story! Some of the author's notes will disappear because I can not for the life of me find the older chapters on my list, so I guess they have "expired".

Anyway, I just really want to thank everyone who's been reading this story and following along. This is the first fanfiction I've ever written, and it's been such an amazing and therapeutic way for me to deal with a difficult time in my life. It's so bittersweet that I've nearly completed it now. I know I've said that before, but now's the time.

So, thank you all so much. And for any new readers; I hope you'll enjoy it! If you start before I'm able to get to all the more "problematic" chapters, please rest assured that they will be updated shortly and that the later chapters are easier to digest (thank you, Grammarly). To my defense, I'm not a native English-speaker.

Revisited 24th of May 2020

Chapter 1: Going home to where it's better than before

Colonel Roy Mustang was the first to stand up as the speakers on their train announced that they would shortly arrive at Central Station. He took his uniform hat on, and grabbed his jacket as First Lt. Riza Hawkeye and Second Lt. Jean Havoc followed his lead, grabbing their baggage and lingered not far behind.

"As soon as we get back to the headquarters, I want First L.t Hawkeye to call Colonel Stat and ask for a list of the names of anyone who've set foot in the Bellings Hotel for the past three months. If he's not cooperating, you can tell him to stick that damn report firmly up his-"

"I'll make him cooperate," Hawkeye cut him off, no emotion in her words. She was always professional. On some rare occasions, you could catch a glimpse of humanity, but as sudden as it would occur, she would slip back into her professional demeanor. They started walking through their wagon as the train slowed down. Roy continued on giving commands and ranting about his frustration over the case they were working on, switching his attention from the path in front of him and his subordinates.

"As soon as you get any leads, you will report back directly to me...Oh!" he exclaimed as he bumped into something.

A child fell with surprising force to the floor.

"What in the..?" Roy murmured, brushing off his jacket. "Watch where you're going, you little..."

"I dare you to finish that sentence-" the child yelled, clutching his left fist as if ready to take on the three military officers. He was wearing a knitted sweater, too big for him, and a beanie. His long blonde hair hung loosely around his shoulders. He had big golden eyes, that angrily stared up towards them from his spot, sprawled out on the floor.

"What are you talking abou-" Roy tried to ask, as he realized that the kid was missing both his right arm and left leg. His pant leg and sleeve were tied in firm knots where his limbs were supposed to be. He had been walking with a crutch.

The dread struck Roy hard, as he realized that he had, intentionally or not, pushed a small, disabled child to the floor. He felt his face become overheated, mortification painting his cheeks crimson red.

"Hey, calm down little dude," Lt. Havoc said with a small laugh, trying to disarm the situation.

"Don't call me little!"

The other passengers had begun to stare, and the people getting off were waiting impatiently to get past them.

"Just... we're blocking the way. Let me help you up," Roy said between gritted teeth and reached his hand towards the boy.

"I don't need your help," the child snarled, struggling to regain his balance while the train braked, slowing down in front of the station. When it finally stopped completely, the child fell once more by the force of the heavy machinery stopping.

"For God's sake..." Roy muttered and grabbed the child by his arm, yanking him up from the ground.

"Hey!" the kid cried out, and forcefully withdrew his arm from the bigger and intimidating man, jumping on his one leg over to steady himself against the wall. The three officers looked at each other.

"Where are your parents, kid?" Havoc asked.

"I'm not a kid."

Roy rolled his eyes.

"Where are your parents?" Roy snapped and stepped warningly towards the small child with a deep, angry furrow between his eyes. He was known as a very impatient man already, and there was something with this kid that really rubbed him the wrong way.

"We need to get off the train," Hawkeye interrupted, stepping in front of her superior officer and picked up the crutch, giving it back to the boy.

"Thanks," the kid murmured quietly, accepting the wooden crutch and placed it under his arm.

"Lt. Havoc, take the kid's baggage," Roy instructed flatly.

"Not a kid," the boy muttered.

"Shut up... Lt. Havoc, take the not a kid's baggage, and escort him off the train."

"Colonel, are you sure you're not letting your frustrations out on him? I think you're overreacting," Hawkeye said silently, walking closely behind as Roy stepped off the train.

"I just want to know about his parents. I'd like to give them a piece of my mind about their son," he barked in response.

"I'm not sure you're the right person to give parental advice..."

"Don't touch me! I don't need your help!"

They both turned around, looking towards the kid on top of the steep steps of the train exit. Havoc was standing behind him, throwing his hands up, claiming his innocence in mock surrender. The kid leaned heavily on his crutch, before placing it down on the middle step and jumped to the ground.

"See?" he told Havoc, gleaming with poorly subdued pride. Roy would never admit to it, but he was a little impressed, but soon found back to his grumpy old self.

"Lt. Havoc, where is his baggage?"

"He said that was it." Havoc pointed to the kid's backpack that hung from one strap over the kid's one shoulder. Roy sighed.

"Fine. What is your name?"

The child ignored him and started to walk in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" Roy shouted after him, grabbing the kid's shoulder.

"I told you not to touch me!" he growled and shrugged the colonel off. "I haven't done anything."

"You are a child, all alone in Central City. You won't tell me your name, or where your parents are."

"I'm 16!" the child answered. Roy raised his eyebrows.

"Do you have identification?"

"No."

"Then I don't think we have any other choice but to hold you up at the headquarters until we can find your parents. Central isn't a place for a lone child."