He Who Searches For Himself

"We never really talked about it, about how he got here. We talked all about how I got here, well more like interrogated, but I never asked about his situation. I could take a guess about who put him here, especially after what Sensei told me in Dante's mansion. I never asked about the things that Homunculus had said and I never asked about what Dante said; it didn't seem to be my place to question him. I never asked why he left Dante probably because I couldn't blame him, and I never asked why he abandoned the creature he created maybe because I didn't want to know. I wondered if he had known that Mom was sick; the doctor said she'd been ill for a while, but I never really knew if it was in terms of years or months. There are a lot of things I don't ask about. The closest I came to asking was some day when I got angry and shot back at him with some derogatory comment about his situation; I said something about us being a replacement for his original family. I don't think he's ever scared me as badly as he did that day with his reaction. I did ask him if he knew how Dante found out about us and what we had for a family; he said that he had no idea. He volunteered that he knew Dante had been teaching a new student around the time he'd left us; seems after all those years he still kept track of her movements, probably a wise idea. He suspected that the young lady, Izumi Curtis, was supposed to have been the original pawn used to create the Philosopher's Stone. He told me that Sensei most likely did not end up in Resembool for us to meet by accident, especially since Dante was the one who had trained Izumi for so long before she'd gone out on her own. Everything Sensei knew, which was everything Dante had wanted her to know, was passed down to us. She had us bred long before we ever showed up in Central. Dad apologized for that."

Chapter 59 – Replacements

Ed folded his arms at the end of the table and put his chin down atop them. His eyebrow twitched slightly while considering his options; continually glaring at the latest problem gracing the table. Eventually he picked his head up, looked over his shoulder, and leaned back to consult Oberth.

"If I took that one, and moved it there," his voice came out in a low whisper, "will I have any better chance of fixing this?"

Oberth gave a frustrated sigh and ground his teeth, "I don't know. Your chances are looking bleak no matter what you do with it."

"Edward," Tilly's cocky voice rang out, "I'm entirely unimpressed that your great brain is struggling here."

Ed's voice snapped back at her, "Shut up, stop belittling me when I'm thinking."

"Oh, he's embarrassed," the woman cast her gaze aside with a smirk, "nothing Hermann can say will fix this for you."

Folding his arms across his chest, Edward returned to glaring at the table once more. Leaning forward from his spot on the floor in front of the couch, Ed extended a cautious hand to the coffee table, "There…"

Brigitte bounced from her crossed legs to her knees and reached out to the table, "Yay!" her hand moved swiftly around the table, "king me!" she snatched up two of his three remaining red chips.

Oberth's face wrinkled, "Ouch…"

"Son of a…" Ed's hand slapped his face.

Tilly rolled her eyes, "That was pathetic," getting to her feet next to Brigitte, she strolled off, "I'm getting drinks, do the losers want anything?"

"Shut up," Ed grumbled.

Brigitte passed her glass to Oberth for a hand-off to Tilly, "More juice please Ma'am."

"Nothing for me," Oberth passed his wife the child's glass and proceeded to swat Edward upside the head, "you idiot, you keep giving her reasons to behave like that. Don't you realize that I have to go home with her later?"

Ed simply shook his head and glared across the table to Brigitte, "I suppose you want me to move that one so you can claim it too?"

"Please," she flashed a bright, white smile.

Rolling his eyes, Edward gave up his last game piece to the giggling girl sitting on the floor across the coffee table from him, "I'm never playing checkers with you again."

"Why not?" Brigitte began to sweep her chips back into the game box.

Ed stood up just long enough to sit himself back down on the couch, "Because you won every game."

"… So?"

"Play with Hermann next time," Edward gestured to the man joining him on the couch.

Oberth shook his head as well, "If we ever play again, we're doing it when my wife's not here."

"… Because you'll loose again too?" Brigitte tiled her head as she received a pair of unimpressed stares.

The attention of those gathered shifted to the unlocking of the door. The moment Hohenheim stepped through the front entrance, everyone, with the exception of Edward, greeted him.

"Good afternoon, Professor."

The out of school address stopped Hohenheim before his shoes ever came off. Finally, he simply laughed and hung up his coat, "My house is full for a Sunday. This is unusual."

Blowing out of the kitchen and cutting past Hohenheim with two drinks in her hands, Tilly called back, "Professor, perhaps you should enrol your son into some of these classes you and your colleagues teach. He seems to be loosing his wits."

"How many times have I told you to shut that noisy hole of yours today?" Edward barked at her as she sat down next to Brigitte on the floor once more.

"At least fifteen," she replied with a sly smile.

Hohenheim moved to stand behind the couch where Oberth and his son sat, "Perhaps I'll enrol him in edict classes so he can learn how to address women properly."

"Splendid idea."

"What the hell is wrong with you! Don't encourage her!" Ed wailed as he glared over his shoulder at his father.

Hohenheim carried his entertained grin freely as he cut across the room and moved into his study.

Tilly sat in her place trying to control the growing grin, "I love your father. He's so much fun."

"Says you," Edward rolled his eyes.

"I don't think he likes me very much," Brigitte put the lid back onto the box containing her game, "he looks at me like my mother does when she thinks my sister or I are fibbing."

Oberth laughed at the statement, "Why would the Professor look at you that way?"

"I don't know."

At the snap of his fingers, Oberth turned his attention back to Ed, "Before I forget. Edward, I need you to pick up a few things before we get to work in the lab Tuesday. Most of the stuff is on your end of town, not mine; that's the only reason I ask."

"No that's fine; I'll leave my stuff at the University when I drop my dad off and then take the car."

Brigitte leaned her elbows on the table, "You got the car back?"

Ed's shoulders fell as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, "Yes, I got it back."

"Got it back?" Tilly's eyes glanced from Brigitte to Ed, "it went missing?"

"No."

"Edward lost it."

"Do you ever want to come back in my house again?" Ed's eye twitched as he glared back at Brigitte's smiling feign of innocence.

Tilly glanced over to her husband who began to sit forward in his seat, "Oh come on, tell the story."

Standing up sharply, Ed trained his stubborn gaze upon the three guests, "It's a very long and uninteresting story. Nobody needs to know what happened to the car, and if someone thinks she's going to tell the story later…" his eyes followed Brigitte as she clasped her hands in her lap sweetly, "the kind Doctor Oberth here will stitch her lips shut."

Oberth blinked, "No I won't. I don't know this story."

Ed raised his hands into the air in frustration, "Then I'll tell the nuns about her adventures in the University."

The adult's eyes all fell to Brigitte, each with a different motive behind the gaze. The youngest within the house reached to the table and pulled her checkers box into her lap, "Don't look at me, I don't know anything."

"You can go out if you want. You don't need to stay in here and keep me company," Al commented, watching Winry shift once again where she sat.

"I'd rather not," Winry's eyes traveled around the library as she put her feet up on the arm of the couch. True, she would rather go out and do anything other than sit in the room for another day; but the miserable aura of the house, and not wanting to step foot outside fearing she'd get snatched up, made the decision to remain where she was fairly easy.

Alphonse shut his book and dropped it back down on the table, "Well you're making me uncomfortable."

"It makes me uncomfortable to be out there," Winry whined and pointed to a location beyond the closed library doors. Al couldn't argue with that since the house was a very uncomfortable place to be at the moment. Flowers and well wishes adorned many of the tables within the house, and there was a fair bit of discussion about the funeral the next morning that neither Al nor Winry felt they had any business being a part of. Although he had been invited, Al had initially turned down the offer. He did not feel it was his place to intrude upon the family that way. Only friends and family should be invited he said; he was simply their guest and would look out of place in attendance.

"You've stayed in here with me for two days already. Go shopping; you said you had things to buy. I don't need a babysitter," Al sat back in his seat and opened another book.

Rolling her eyes, Winry shook her head, "I'm not babysitting you."

His eyes still skimming the pages, Al's voice came off somewhat annoyed, "Then what are doing?" The extended silence that occurred from his comment caused Al to lift his eyes in question, "What?"

"Al, why did you and Izumi stay those extra few days at the stop before Central?"

"… 'Why'?" Al rested the book in his lap, "How did you know we were delayed there?"

Winry finally spun herself to sit up straight, "I was thinking about it yesterday when I called Dublith to let them know what was going on. You two left with Izumi, Sig and Meisun, but Sig said yesterday you stayed behind with Izumi at a station that was about six hours outside Central. He said Izumi didn't give a reason, and told the two of them to go on ahead."

"Oh…" closing yet another book, Al placed it down on top of the pile on the table, "well, we only stayed over night, not a few days. Our train arrived late and that didn't make Sensei happy at all," he gave a nervous laugh, "we missed the noon train, but there was a train leaving in the evening that we were going to transfer to. A couple hours before we got on, someone's rumour caught Sensei's attention. She told Sig and Meisun to go on ahead with me, but I told Sensei I was staying with her. We took a coach to the next town, which wasn't too far away, and Sensei was really unhappy to find out we'd wasted our time. At least we got back for the 9am train."

"Rumour?" Winry slouched forward in her seat, "What sort of rumour?"

Al looked up in thought, "Um… it had something to do with an alchemist and dolls coming to life. Just the way they said it, it upset Sensei enough for her to investigate. Turns out that the rumour was really old, not entirely accurate, and the man involved was dead. Sensei was not happy," he laughed nervously at the memory of his enraged teacher. Winry gave a slight nod as Al's voice spoke up once again, "Maybe if we hadn't gone looking, we would all be in Dublith by now."

Winry got up from the couch, moved over to the lounge chair Al had claimed for the past few days, and sat down on the arm, "Don't talk like that, there's no way you could have known any of this was going to happen."

Al's lost voice crept up again, "I don't know anything about what happened to her. I think I heard Mr. Mitchell get upset with someone on the phone because the witness statements went missing. It's such a big mess and nobody's getting anywhere with it," he trailed off as Winry wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Al," she said, stopping him before he could discourage himself any further, "it'll turn out alright, I promise."

Al let his shoulders fall as Winry remained as she was on the arm of the chair, "Winry?"

She gave a hum as her reply.

"Tomorrow..." his voice faded momentarily, "I'm going to go to Mrs. Mitchell's funeral."

Glancing down from her perch, Winry looked at him questioningly, "I thought you didn't want to go."

Slowly Al nodded, "I didn't, but he's insisted a few times, and I felt bad for him. I know his daughters aren't going; the older girl has been really withdrawn since she came to the house. Mr. Mitchell says that once he gets her talking and her mind distracted that she's very charming, but he doesn't want her at the funeral because it might upset her again. Their nurse is staying home to tend to the baby."

"Do you really want to go to another funeral?" Winry eyed him with concern, knowing how well he remembered the last.

Simply shrugging, Al resumed nodding his head, not wanting to think about it too much, "It's polite." He looked up at her, waiting for some sort of reply. Winry's head tilted to the side in thought. She sighed finally and let herself slide into the seat; squishing Al into the other soft arm. Al finally popped himself out from the spot. Winry didn't let him get far; reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled him back into her lap. Al stayed with her like that; silent, and leaning against her shoulder until his tension eased away, choosing to rest in the comfort of her arms. Giving his hair a brush with her hand, she felt him sigh and watched as he closed his eyes. Winry loved it like that; she loved how important it made her feel when Al would allow her to be his comfort. He didn't have to tell her what was wrong; she simply cherished being the one who could hold him until he felt better. As much as she'd wanted to change it, and as much as she tried, she had grown up on the outside. From such a horrible situation that had developed over so many years, Winry decided this was a small reward for perseverance; she refused to let anything damage that.
"Al?"

He opened his eyes, "Hm?"

"You said that Ed might be stuck at the Gate, just like how we told you your body was, right?"

Al nodded slowly.

Winry tipped her head and rested a cheek on the top of Al's head, "I wonder if he's got people to keep him company there."

"I don't know," he gazed off across the room, "why?"

"I wonder who's keeping him in line if we're not there to make sure his head stays on straight."

As his side hit the ground, the corner of Ed's eye found the bottle. From his awkward position on the ground, Edward reached out and caught the glass object before it was given chance to shatter on the walk way. After a moment in the silence, Ed's forehead came to rest on the ground in relief, "I didn't want to buy another one…"

"Sir, I am dreadfully sorry. That was entirely my fault; I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking."

Turning over to face the man who had knocked him from his feet, Ed's bitter voice lashed out, "You should pay more att-" His sentence ended there. Ed's eyes told him to say nothing more as he looked into the face of the man on the ground next to him.

"… I know you," the man finally said cautiously, eyeing Edward as he tried to produce a name. Both men finally came to their knees and began repackaging the paper bag Ed had been carrying, "You're Hohenheim's son, aren't you? Edward?"

"Yeah," He watched as the man got to his feet, and then extended a hand to help Ed up. Once on his feet, Edward straightened his vest and returned the paper bag to the place in his arm, "And you're Rudolf Hess?" It was not a face he could have easily forgotten.

"At least we know each other's name, that's a good start," He gave a musing grin, brushing the sandy blonde curls in his hair, "you don't have classes in this block?"

Ed adjusted the bag, his response sounding flat and disinterested, "I'm not taking any classes."

His brow frowning with confusion, Hess gave Edward a curious eye; "I've seen you around campus this term, and last term. What do you do there if you don't study?"

"I work for my father. Various office work…" Ed shrugged, the back of his mind trying to understand why he was having a conversation with someone he would have rather not ever have encountered. Yet, much to his surprise, the man's voice was not challenging, not critical or cynical; simply curious. He didn't like how comfortable the conversation was.

"You're his secretary?"

Ed scoffed at that, "He can get up and answer the telephone or the door himself. My help will only go so far, I'm not his servant boy."

"I suppose that's alright then," the comment made Hess laugh and shake his head, "where are you headed to?"

Ed reached into his pocket to pull out the list Oberth had given him. Skimming over the lines, mentally checking off everything he'd picked up already. His eyes hit the last line; at the second reading of his final instructions Edward's expression fell grossly unimpressed.

"What?"

"I'm going to the 'corner store' to get 'something chocolate' and 'something chocolate and caramel'," he slammed the list into his pocket, "that idiot."

Hess couldn't keep himself from laughing at Edward's exasperated tone, "Well, I have to pass the convenience stores on this block; I'll walk with you."

Not being in a position to gracefully escape the situation, Ed had no alternative other than to take the man up on his offer. He turned down the sidewalk; shopping bag cradled in his left arm and Hess at his other side. The longer the two walked in silence, the more awkward Ed felt about the man's presence; entirely unsure on anything to say to the man. He simply wished that a store would pop up on the block that he could duck into.

"I heard a confusing rumour," Hess' seemingly harmless voice finally caught Ed's attention as their pace slowed, "your father doesn't particularly talk about you at the meetings, but some of his closer associates, like Karl, have mentioned things about your right arm."

Ed blinked, rather surprised by the odd statement. Adjusting the bag in his left arm, he caught the right glove with a finger and slipped it off his mechanical hand, "You mean this?"

"That is… a real mechanical hand…?" Hess' tone raved with wonder, his steps ground to nearly a halt. His eyes traveled from the hand up Edward's arm, "And that goes all the way to your shoulder?"

In no mood to roll his sleeve up, Ed simply nodded, "My father and I had the blue print drafted a long time before I ever had it put on. It wasn't until we came to Germany that I ended up completing it."

"You lived all those years in London without that prosthetic arm?"

His urge to correct everyone and coin the thing an AutoMail constantly made his cheek twitch before he finally responded, "I managed, I had help," his gaze cast aside for a moment before rolling his eyes and dawning a booming sarcastic, bitter tone to disguise a humbling memory, "the great Professor Hohenheim of Munich's University did not let his challenged son do too many things on his own."

Hess raised his brow at the statement, "That's probably because there weren't too many things you could do with a disability like that, like tying your shoe laces or your hair."

"I have always been perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I was not an invalid," Ed gave his snippy response to the situation and made it clear that he would have nothing more to willingly contribute to the conversation. He hated being labelled disabled almost as much as he had hated being called short.

Being swift enough to catch that Ed was not going to entertain the issue any longer; Hess kept himself amused for a moment, wondering just how much bite came with Edward's easily roused bark. Realizing it was time to find a new topic, Hess chose something more to his liking.

"Speaking of your father, I'm curious about something," he slid his hands into his pockets, "I find it really strange that your father is such an active member in Thule, but he is not involved with the Party at all."

Edward wrinkled his nose at the thought, "He doesn't want to carry political obligations. He did that in England and decided he'd had enough of that when we came to Germany. But even with that, Thule is the foundation for the Nazi Party; he is involved, even if his name's not on the sheet."

Hess gave a frown at the situation, "If it were anyone else in the Society, it would look extremely bad on their part. I just don't want anyone to get the wrong impression of your father, he's a great mind to rely upon."

Looking up into the mid-day sun, Ed narrowed his eyes, "Shouldn't it work both ways? The vast majority of higher-ups in the Nazi Party are members of Thule, except your Fuhrer."

From the corner of his eye, Ed caught Hess' instant displeasure of his statement; "The reason no one questions your father is the same reason no one questions Adolf for not joining Thule. Both men are extremely well respected in their positions. No offence to your father, but Adolf is a far greater man and your father's motives would be questioned long before Adolf's ever will be. He will change this country for the better long before anything your father does has any impact," Hess turned his gaze over to Edward, the anger that Edward would have the gall to compare anyone else to Adolf Hitler vivid in his eyes, "it would look best for your family if you two came out and cast ballots in the November vote."

Not wanting to hold an uneasy silent moment with Hess, Ed gave his answer, "I'll talk to my dad."

At that, Hess's tone abruptly returned to the prior pleasant demeanour; as if the last minutes had not existed, "And yourself? Why do you stay in your father's shadow in all this?"

Ed raised his free hand in defence, "I am a scientist who's blissfully ignorant of politics."

Hess laughed again at Edward's statements but and was unwilling to accept such a sentiment, "Well how about this," he stopped Ed before he could slip into the store, "myself, Adolf, Albrecht and Lord knows how many other people are going to a Bavarian League meeting tonight, we're going out for drinks afterwards, you're welcome to join us. I'll introduce you to the man who'll lead this country one day. I'm sure you'll like his poise."

Ed ran 'Bavarian League' meeting through his head, trying to figure out what it was, "Hermann and Tilly might need me late…" after he's spoken, the thought of what Hess considered 'entertainment' suddenly came into consideration. He would have continued to form an excuse if Hess had not stopped him.

Taking a card and pen from his pocket, Hess left a note on the card and tucked it into the pocket on Ed's vest, "I think it would be a wise move on your part to drop by."

The non-negotiable statement left Edward without an alternative.

Breezing down the stairs, Winry slammed her face into the windows to the side of the front doors; her reaction growing more distraught as she watched the last of the funeral attendees pull away from the yard.

"… How'm I going to find it now?" she slouched up against the window frame for a moment before sulking her way back up the stairs, "what a stupid big house. How do they keep track of anything in here?" Dragging her feet back into the guest room lent out to her, Winry looked around the room that she'd turned into an utter disaster. Sheets had been tossed around the room, and accessories had been thrown across the floor; she'd even gone so far as to pull the bed away from the wall.

"This is so annoying!" Winry screamed in frustration as she grabbed onto her hair. Her inability to find the black tool bag she carried was getting more frustrating by the minute. The aggravation she had been crying out was abruptly silenced by the emergence of the baby's cry. With an overly guilty conscience, Winry poked her head out into the hall; her eyes darted around the floor, wondering if there was anyone left to snap at her for disturbing the baby. Pushing aside her frustrations, Winry glared a circle around the room, "I give up. I'll find it later," at that, she snuck out into the hall – echoing of the baby's cry.

Winry made her way quickly down the hall, half expecting someone to pop out of a room to scold her for being too old to throw tantrums. The memories of Izumi's voice crashing down on her each time she'd throw a fit at a malfunctioning device left her constantly on edge. Izumi had become the brass knuckles that ensured Roze's baby had peace whenever it napped.

Easily able to find the baby's room from the crying, the door decorated with a pastel hanging reading 'Baby's Room' left Winry without a doubt she was in the right place. Turning the door handle, she took a few steps in; suddenly engulfed by the overwhelmed size of the baby's room. Though the decorations were lovely, and the early day's light filtered through the blinds, the room was massive. Winry reminded herself that she should have expected such a thing, since all of the rooms were large. The baby's crib was displayed as a trophy within the centre of the room. Silently approaching the newly constructed and polished wooden crib, Winry leaned against the rails and peered down at the crying infant.

"Hi baby, I'm so sorry I made you cry. Did I wake you from a good dream?" she cooed at the child, reaching a hand into the crib to stroke the child's soft cheek. Much to Winry's surprise, the child seemed to calm down at her presence, "… or were you just lonely?" her lips curled up amused, wondering if she'd been had, "you heard me make all that noise, and you just cried so I'd come and grace you with my presence? What a sneaky little girl you are!"

Slipping her other arm into the crib, Winry moved to pick up the child.

"Don't do that."

Not given a chance to lift the child from it's spot, Winry ripped her arms from the crib and spun around; her startled, wide eyes glanced around the room as her back hit the crib rails. Her head shot around until her vision fell upon a wooden rocking chair in the far corner. Silently, Winry looked at the newest little girl in the Mitchell family; the child's wide blue eyes returned the gaze, holding vigil over the bedroom intruder as the chair rocked silently. Standing in the uncomfortable silence, Winry stared at the girl from her frozen position; examining the long brown hair falling over the black dress and stuffed animal held in the child's arms. She could not determine if the striking eyes the little girl had were holding back the emotions of the last few days or something much different.

"The nurse didn't want Alphonse holding the baby for very long. She won't be happy if you pick her up without permission."

Winry's eyes narrowed in thought, trying to remember when Al held the baby. Changing her train of thought, Winry forced a smile for the little girl, "If you were here with the baby the whole time, why didn't you try and stop her crying?"

"I didn't make her cry." Normally expecting such a response to carry a stubborn tone, the voice gave Winry the impression she was stating a fact rather than making an accusation. The little girl rocked slowly in the chair, sunlight coming through the blinds catching her necklace with each rock, "I shouldn't touch the baby either right now. She's tired."

Examining the child with strong discretion, Winry wondered if the little girl had any idea how to deal with a baby in the first place. She moved to crouch down in front of the chair the girl rocked in; projecting an encouraging smile Winry spoke up, "She's your baby sister now, right? That means that if she's crying, you're supposed to help her. Your daddy and nurse should show you how to change her diaper and hold her bottle so she's okay. If she cries, you're supposed to worry about her, because she's important; just like you. That's what a good big sister would do."

With the tilt of her head, the child's blue eyes stared back at Winry, "Are you Alphonse's big sister?"

Her eyes softened with the question as a hand brushed her own blonde hair aside, "Not exactly. I'd like to think we could be brother and sister… I don't know if I'm doing a good job or not," Winry's voice faded in thought, "I'm sure he'd be more comfortable with Ed than anyone else… but I think I do okay."

"Ed?" the child's eyes grew more curious.

Winry found herself nervously laughing at the child's mention of Ed's name, "Al's older brother, his real brother. He went on a journey, so I get to play older sibling until he gets back."

"You're a replacement then?"

Despite the innocence in the child's voice, Winry could not lessen the impact of the words. Her shoulders started to fall along with her expression; someone's jagged fingernail was clawing a tear in her chest. Lightly chewing on her lip, Winry could not bring herself to give an answer; she did not want to tell herself that she was only the second best thing.

Not until the voice spoke, did Winry realize that someone else was in the room, "What are you doing in here?"

Snapping her head to the nurse in the door, Winry crouched silent in the room before reaching her hands out and placing them on the child's knees in the chair, "We were just talking about being big sisters." She wondered if anyone else caught how much her voice struggled.

"Young lady, no one in this room needs coaching from you. That is why I live in this house."

Somewhat spooked by the empty and cold gaze from the nurse's disposition, Winry rose to her feet as the nurse came to stand behind her. She watched for a moment while the woman stared into the baby's crib; finally she moved back to the crib, "If that's why you live in this house, why didn't you come when the baby cried? Isn't that your job too?"

Her sentence barely finished, the back of the nurse's hand struck viciously across Winry's face, "It is not your place to question me. Nor is it your house to question the people within. I do not want someone like you involved with these children."

"Ma'am..." the little girl's eyes stared up to the nurse.

Winry's lightly trembling hand held her cheek, her defensive spine suddenly kicking in. She glanced at the girl long enough to catch the unimpressed look on her face before turning to the baby's attendant, "What the hell is your problem? I came in here to make sure the baby was okay, something you don't seem to care too much about. If you hit these children too I will make sure that-."

"Miss. Rockbell, isn't it?" without flinching at Winry's words, the nurse reached into the crib and pulled out the infant child. Cradling it in her arms she turned to Winry, "it certainly has been fortunate Mr. Mitchell has not found out about the arrest warrant issued for you."

Her eyes widened.

"It would be a shame for your, and poor Alphonse's, sake if he managed to discover this. There may only be two military officers assigned to the case, and a low profile ploy at that, but-" her empty eyes fell over Winry. Shivering at the gaze, Winry spun on her heels to escape the aura. Without a word to anyone remaining in the room, she marched out into the hallway. Before slamming the door, Winry paused and looked back into the room, her eyes falling with concern to the girl now standing a few feet away from her nurse. Simply wanting to get away from the room, Winry slapped a firm look onto her face.

"If you happen to find my tool bag, could you return it to me, please and thank you."

She slammed the door.

From the far corner of the room, Ed stood, arms folded, and a skeptical look on his face. Lurking in his position Ed visually canvassed the room once again; its aging wooden stage, string drawn mauve curtains and wooden chairs holding rows and rows of properly dressed men. Having no urge to mingle, Ed simply stood in his place, watching the hall quickly fill. He'd wished that his father had been home earlier; having passed on the opportunity to ask Oberth what he was getting himself into, he'd been disappointed Hohenheim was not around to brief him.

"Your father is far more social than you are, Edward."

Instantly recognizing the voice, Ed turned his attention to see Hess approaching.

"We have seats down the middle isle, come join us," Hess's hand came to land on Edward's shoulder.

"I'm fine where I am, I'm just going to observe."

Hess raised his eyebrows questioningly at Edward's motives, "You should sit down somewhere not so far back, especially dressed like that," he took a hold of Ed from under his arm and pulled him away from the corner, "you're going to get mistaken in that coat."

"My coat?" Ed staggered along after Hess, pushing his way through the growing crowd.

With a hand sweeping across the landscape of the room, Hess spoke up again, "All of these men dressed in brown jackets are Sturmabteilung," catching the continued confusion that Ed held in his eyes, Hess slapped his hand around Ed's upper arm, "In those dim lights at the back of the room, the only thing distinguishing you from some of them is the lack of our swastika," he patted Ed's arm.

"That's the Brown Coats…" his voice tried to hide his concern, having heard of these men before. Feeling Hess pull on his arm once more, Ed continued to follow, "Then, your Party's meeting tonight is going-"

Ed was cut off long before he could finish his statements, "This is not a Nazi Party meeting, Edward," he ushered Ed down a row of seated patrons and followed close behind, "this is a Bavarian League meeting. I guess you can best call us the opposition."

Standing before his new seat, Ed scanned the crowd that surrounded him, "Half these people are your people though," his voice not yet sounding alarmed, simply perplexed.

"That's right," Hess concurred, sitting down at his seat, "how can your opponent voice himself over such strong opposition?"

With caution, Ed began to sit down in his seat, only to be stopped by the uproar of voices calling from the main entrance. He straightened up to watch a dark haired man, not much taller than himself, blow into the room, marching with a military stride down the centre isle of the hall – and much to the approval of many attendees. Edward did not immediately register Albrecht Haushofer following quickly behind him.

"Hess," the man's voice commanded as he turned to face down the isle where Ed stood. Before Hess stood up to cut their line of sight, Edward and the man with a tuff of a moustache under his nose stared questioningly at each other.

"There are seats for you here," Hess called out, standing up to grab their attention.

Before he could sit down, a voice that had always grated on his nerves called out, "My Lord, Edward, I never thought I'd see you here!" Albrecht stepped into the row before the man he followed could, looking to claim the empty seat next to Ed.

If he thought he could get away with showing visual disgust for the son of one of his father's closest friends, Ed would have. Forcing out a smile, Ed figured he better entertain the young Haushofers presence, "Good evening, Hoffie."

Nearly tripping over his own two feet as he pushed his way past seated people, Albrecht barked back at him, "Edward! Could you show some courtesy towards me in public at least?"

Ed did not feel like replying to that statement yet again.

"Edward," Hess quickly grabbed Ed's attention. As Hess sat down in his seat, he motioned to the man now standing before an empty seat two spots away. His eyes such a deep brown they appeared as black as his slicked hair and lengthy trench coat. Though he was not towering, nor did he carry a build that was anything but ordinary; Ed again looked into to the man's conquering gaze that stared down upon him from the corner of his eyes, "This is Adolf Hitler."

At the snap of his fingers, Albrecht chimed in with pride, "He's our new Fuhrer, replacing that useless Harrer."

As he stood up, Edward watched the man's no-nonsense expression subside. Ed could tell from the aura he carried; not only did every supporter in the room place him in high regard, Adolf himself deliberately stood high upon everyone else's shoulders. Locked in analysis of his prowess, Ed extended his hand across Hess' seat, "Pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"It's always good to have a man with strong eyes like yours stand along side my men," at that, Adolf took Ed's hand to shake.

Ed froze the moment he realized what he'd done. Hess caught the instant look of question upon Adolf; before Ed could stop him or Hess could speak, Adolf had grabbed Edward by the cold metal wrist and ripped the protective glove from his hand. The four men stood unmoving in their places, three of them quite startled by the actions of the superior. Raising an eyebrow before looking up, Adolf connected his demanding gaze of questions to Edward's glare of defence. Ed jerked his arm twice before Adolf would relent the hold on his wrist.

"This is Hohenheim's son, Edward Elric," Hess finally stepped in, having become nervous from Ed's demeanour towards his superior.

Not letting his interest slide, Adolf did not address Hess, "Is there a reason behind your robotic arm or do I get to remain in wonder?"

"Wonder all you like," Ed's stubbornly defensive posture intensified, disliking the feeling of being overpowered by anyone.

From behind Edward, Albrecht moved to his feet quickly, even more so on edge than Hess had become, "Edward's whole arm is like that. His left leg is artificial too. He's got a lot of strength to endure like this, don't you think?"

Adolf finally relented in the situation, "Quite," was all he provided, not feeling that he owed either statement a dignifying answer. With more pressing issues on his mind, he turned to Hess, "Rudolf, would you accompany me to my car?"

"Of course. Edward, will you keep our seats?"

Finally taking his own seat, Ed sat down with a nod; not as if there could be any choice in the matter. His eyes watched both men's movements carefully as they made their way past other seated patrons. Upon returning to the isle, Hess and Adolf marched in stride towards the exit. Ed made no secret that he'd returned the same interrogating gaze Adolf placed upon him as he looked back to the seats.

Albrecht and Ed turned forward as the men disappeared behind the doors; their attentions grabbed by the uproar of voices emanating from the front of the room. Ed sat higher in his seat, attempting to see the man moving across the stage more clearly.

"What a pathetic little man," Albrecht moved to his feet, glaring at the finely dressed gentleman crossing the stage, "he waited for Adolf to leave the room before he showed his face. How can these men follow someone who has no courage to stand up for himself!"

Ed finally moved to his feet within the uproar of people, both supporters and non-supporters alike; it was unclear which section's noise was louder. The overflowing hall of people watched as the man stood bewildered upon the centre of the stage, the look of astonishment and fear clearly present in his eyes. From within the chatter, the hall doors were once again thrown open. Pushing his way through the congested path of his own supporters, Adolf, with an entourage of his army's men, powered his way down the centre isle.

Not noticing the re-entry within the noise, Ed continued to watch the men at the front rows harass not only the man who was to speak on stage, but many other audience members as well.

"This is ridiculous," Ed's disgusted voice was not loud enough for Albrecht to hear, "I have better things to waste my time on than this."

Turning to make the attempt at an exit, Edward unwillingly stopped when the chants for Hitler to take the podium erupted. Trying to push past the crammed masses of people, Ed's eyes once again caught sight of the man they cheered for. He watched as Adolf commanded the uprising simply by existing in the room. It was then that Edward noticed the armbands more than half of the attendees wore on their sleeves as they raised their arms in chant. Startled by the display, Ed gripped his unbranded arm where Hess' hand had momentarily been placed earlier.

"I will not step aside."

The attentions in the room shifted to the stage.

"This is our meeting. We organized it, and we paid for the hall. Shut up or get out-"

Ed heard no more from the man on the stage, the uproar of the crowd was deafening. From the corner of his eye, Adolf caught Edward's attention once more; the man slammed his way through the people crowding the centre path to the stage without obvious provocation. His entourage followed closely behind, growing as more people in the room crushed forward.

Unable to move within the suffocating crowd of shuffling bodies, Edward stepped onto the seat of a wooden chair; an action he noticed Albrecht and others had done as well. He again watched while Hitler's thugs overpowered the Bavarian officers. It was Adolf himself climbing uncontested to the stage, charging at the speaker.

Standing frozen atop the chair, Ed watched the Bavarian League attendees retaliate upon any unrecognizable face the moment Hitler's fist struck their speaker. Edward's eyes dilated and suddenly shot around the room; realizing he stood at the middle of anarchy crashing down upon the hall.

Though only given one chance to burn it into his memory, Al could not have forgotten the place, "Can we stop the car?" he asked, the undertone of panic setting into his voice.

Slowly applying the break, his driver looked into the backseat, "Sir, did you forget something?"

His eyes focused on the ageless yellow brick house, the freshly painted surrounding fence, and luscious green grass, "Yes I did," came his distant reply.

Pulling the car into an alley on the other side of the street, the driver used the roadway to turn the car around. Al's eyes raced around the car as the house turned around him moving himself from one seat to another to not loose focus on it.

"No, wait. Stop." If it had not been for his heart pounding in his throat, Al would have been able to catch his breath. The moment he felt the car come to a full stop, Al found himself suddenly as inactive as the vehicle he was within.

"Sir?"

Al finally turned to the driver, "I'm getting out here. Please let Mr. Mitchell know where I am."

Startled by the announcement, the driver immediately protested, "You can't do that. I was instructed to take you directly back to the Mitchell Family home once the reception was finished."

"Tell Mr. Mitchell that I had to return something to Ms. Hughes. And tell him I'll call when I'm ready to be picked up," Al's face tightened, "I told him a few days ago that I needed to come here, but when his wife died I couldn't inconvenience him with this. I'm here now; I don't want to be a greater burden on anyone than I've already been."

The driver sat silent at Al's request, looking ready to protest.

"Please, just tell him that," Al's hands pushed open the car door uncontested.

"He knows the number to contact you at if this does not meet his approval?"

Reaching back for the black suit jacket leant to him, Al gave an affirmative response, and shut the door. Squaring off at his adversarial location from across the street, Al's expression hardened as his fists clenched. Cutting across the afternoon street, he slipped himself into the unlatched yard gates; he watched the car speed off down the road over his shoulder. Facing forward, he stood in front of the house, wondering how best to proceed. He had no idea where to start, though knocking on the door was a good first step, he suddenly felt too nervous to get that far. Behind him the gate had clicked shut, and a child's sharp ears must have heard the sound; before having the opportunity to move up the sidewalk, Elysia ran around the corner of the house.

"Yay! It's Al!" he finally caught sight of her by the voice, Al looked down with enough time to see the imp attach herself to his right hand, "Did you come to play too?"

The innocence of her childish speech let the nerves slip away, "We can play, I don't mind."

"You can be the…" Elysia brought a critical hand to her chin as she thought of an appropriate title for Al, "you'll be the Detective!" she announced, tugging on his long sleeved white shirt, "cause you're dressed nice like one."

A trickle of sweat ran down Al's cheek as he giggled nervously, "That's not exactly why I'm dressed like-" both children's attentions were stolen by the high shrilled scream coming from the other side of the house. Al stepped forward in concern, but his motions were stopped by Elysia; standing steadfast in place with a grin on her face.

"Sheska can be the cleaning lady!"

Not given a chance to exclaim 'who?' a scrambling flurry of arms and legs appeared from behind the house walls, "Elysia! Don't run off like that, your Mom will get mad at me," Sheska's voice pleaded.

Suddenly clinging tight to bewildered Al's hand, Elysia shook her head stubbornly, "Nuh-uh, Al's here now. He's the Detective and he can look after me cause I'm a girl who needs detective things done. You can be the cleaning lady who like to bring tea and biscuits!"

Sheska's hands slapped down onto her knees, huffing to catch her breath, "Why am I always the maid?" straightening herself and taking Elysia by the hand, she turned her attention to Al, "I'm sorry, was there something I can help you with?"

Lost within the whole situation, Al put his hand behind his head and gave a light laugh, "Actually, I was looking for Ms. Hughes."

Sheska's face fell. Recognizing his voice, her eye twitched while she tried to refrain from screaming in front of Elysia.

"I'll go get Mummy! I'll tell her Al is here!" Elysia took her hand away from the startled Sheska and ran through the front door.

Al's grin grew, amused once again by Elysia's endless reserve of bouncing energy. His eyes were stolen from watching her run through the door by Sheska's hand, grabbing him at the chin and facing him towards her.

"Alphonse Elric?" Sheska's eyes grew wide, leaning in to be nose to nose with him.

Startled by her recognition, Al's hand swatted her away and stepped back. Though her wide eyes were filled with curiosity, Al's simply reflected unease and hints of panic. Scrambling to find an answer for her sudden comment, Sheska spoke up again.

"Wow… Winry wasn't kidding. I would never have guessed you would look like this," her hands came over her face, obviously overcome by his presence before her.

Al finally narrowed his widened eyes, entirely confused by her statement, "Who are you?"

"Sheska," she answered and leaned curiously in to Al, "I thought your eyes would be golden like Edward's."

Again stepping back from her intrusion, he stood defensive, unsure of where to take the conversation, "You're… the girl Winry writes lett-"

"Oh my God! Winry," Sheska's hands slammed down over her head, "I haven't heard from her in days, I hope she got out of town okay," her face soured abruptly, "she could have at least called and told me she was alright because obviously Brigadier General Mustang hasn't found her yet."

Al's face twisted in confusion, "… Winry's staying with me," he said flatly, perplexed by whatever it was Sheska was talking about.

Sheska's expression fell crooked, "With you? Then she found you! Oh thank goodness, she was so stressed that someone was going to find you and question you and harass you and maybe hurt you or dissect you or… WAIT," Sheska's hands came onto Al's shoulders firmly, her eyes still wide with questions, "why are you here to see Ms. Hughes?"

"I..." Al side glanced to the door to see if either Elysia or Gracia had shown up, "I came to talk with her, she invited me back if I ever wanted to talk."

"You've been here before!"

Al eyed her with some concern, "Yes…"

"She's seen you like this?"

"Yes…"

Sheska's head dropped in relief, "Thank goodness I'm not the only one who knows about this."

A sudden suspicion crawled into Al's mind, growing unsure if they were both thinking with the same train of thought. Before he could question her, a voice interrupted them.

"What are you going on about now, Sheska?" Ms. Hughes stepped out from her front door, eyeing the pair standing on her lawn. The characteristic warm smile came across her face, delighted by what she saw in her yard, "Alphonse, you look so nice today."

Al glanced down at himself, dressed in the black dress pants, white top, tie and black jacket in his arms, "Thank you, but…" he smiled nervously, feeling the blush return to his cheeks.

Gracia giggled at his reaction and knelt down in front of him, "I'm glad you came back to see me, you're looking so much better than the last time I saw you. You've been getting along alright at the Mitchell residence… with all that's been going on?" her eyes grew concerned at the thought.

"It's been fine, Winry's been with me the last few days," Al replied to her quietly, catching the faint garden scent she had when he spoke.

"Has she?" Gracia's eyes became distracted by news of Winry; her gaze falling to the side as she processed the statement, "that's good to know." She nodded slowly and turned over her shoulder, "Sheska, Elysia wants to make tea again for Alphonse, since he liked it so much last time," she reached out, took Al's jacket from his arms and stood up, "lets go inside and sit at the table for her. We can talk for a bit, maybe invite Winry to join us," she ushered Al ahead of herself and Sheska into the house.

Climbing up the few steps, Al turned back once he stood in the doorway, "Um… could we call Winry later?" he asked hesitantly, not wanting her to find out he'd gone to see Ms. Hughes just yet.

"Yeah," Sheska chimed in while Al's questioning eyes fell upon her as if she intruded on his privacy.

Ms. Hughes stopped before stepping up her porch stairs, "Why would you two want to exclude her?"

Sheska's expression softened, disheartened by the train of thought, "Well if Ed comes up…" Al's startled reaction couldn't get words out soon enough to stop her, "she gets upset sometimes when people talk about him in past tense."

"Past tense?" the moment Gracia caught the horrified look in Alphonse's eyes the jacket fell from her arms. Turning sharply to Sheska, Gracia suddenly realized the impact of what had been said, "Oh no…" her voice and hands shook while her eyes turned to Al in the doorway. She froze, realizing he no longer stood there, "Sheska… no, you just…"

Turning her eyes from Ms. Hughes to the emptiness of the doorway, Sheska's face went pale, "I thought that you… I mean, he said that…"

Snatching the jacket up from where it had fallen Gracia rushed inside the house. Her voice called out in alarm, unsure where he may have gone within her house, "Alphonse!"

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes

R&R is loved and appreciated.

Al does know Ed died, and he disappeared into the house because that's what little Al does when he's upset and he doesn't know how to deal with a situation. He has a lot of childishness reset back into his personality and a lot of inexperience. The issue of Ed is very important to him. As for Gracia's reaction, she knows -something- is up with Al, but doesn't know what exactly.

I'm going to try and refrain from calling Hitler "Hitler". I'll refer to him as Adolf unless I'm going for some story effect. Referring to a character as "Hitler" comes with a pre-determined mental image. It's almost as if it's no longer a name, but an identifying title with a definition. That's the best way I can describe it.

"Harrer" – Karl Harrer. Original leader of the Nazi party.

Sturmabteilung – also known as the "Brown Coats". The name of the early Nazi army.

Chapter 58 Feedback

AmunRa – Guilty pleasure :: Ed and Hohenheim relationship

Zrana – I have nothing to say to you... X3

chibi-sherri - lmao, fic is not better than Harry Potter X3. Research is fun when it has nothing to do with school or something job related... too bad I can't be lazy all the time.

n.n thanks to everyone for making me feel like I'm doing good with this!