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"Equivalent Exchange does not exist," he said sternly.

"What!" screamed the young boy who was sitting reluctantly across from him.

"That can't be true," the other boy's voice echoed from next to the first boy.

He closed his eyes and nodded, ignoring the boys' protests. The sun reflected off of his oval spectacles as well as his hair, which was much like the colour of unrefined gold.

"Is that all you came here to tell us?" the first boy asked, crossing his arms as he had when he had first seated himself at the table. The sun shone off his own golden hair as well, but the colour of his locks was much more vibrant than that of the elder man across from him.

"No, it's not, but it's one of the most important things. Now please, listen to me. In all reality, Equivalent Exchange is a false concept. Edward, you've seen the Gate, have you not?"

"How did you know that? I didn't say anything about it to you!" Edward screamed, slamming his hands on the table, on the verge of standing.

"You can perform Alchemy without a circle," the man said, indicating the boy's hands.

Edward calmed and leaned back, folding his arms across his chest again.

"Yeah, and what of it, Hohenheim of Light?" Edward asked angrily.

"Ed! You shouldn't refer to him like that. He's our da– "

"He's not our dad! He ditched us! He let Mom die! It's all his fault, and I won't call him 'Dad'!"

The person to whom Edward had directed his rage was none other than his younger brother, Alphonse Elric. The young boy whose soul was attached to the armour held silent for a moment, before focusing on his father again, who showed no reaction to the exchange.

"In any case, Dad, what did you mean about Nii-san seeing the Gate?"

"Well, if you think I'm wrong, then you obviously did not see the whole truth, Edward."

"The 'whole truth'?"

"Yes," Hohenheim said pushing up his glasses. "If you had seen the whole truth, you'd know that Equivalent Exchange is a term we use to justify our gains. But in reality, the sacrifice is often larger than our gain."

"What do you mean?" Edward asked, leaning forward only a little, as though he did not think he properly heard his father.

"Think about it. You had to take the State Alchemist exam before they admitted you, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Everyone had to."

"Right. Now, how many hours did you spend studying for the exam?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe two months or something. Why?"

"How long do you think all the other people all studied?"

"How would I know?"

"Well, take a guess."

"I suppose it depends on the dedication and determination of that person, now doesn't it?" Edward replied angrily.

Hohenheim cleared his throat.

"Fair enough, Edward. Alright, I'll make up some numbers for you. A majority of the people who took the exam spent at least four or five months studying, day after day, and they often went without sleep for several days so that they could proceed in their studies and practice their skills. In other words, most people studied a lot longer and harder than you did. However, you were the only one who passed the exam. A justified gain for your sacrifice, right?"

"Yeah, of course it is! I worked my ass off for that test!" Edward said angrily. He had no idea where this man was going with this.

"So what about everyone else?"

"What?"

"What was the gain of everyone who didn't pass? Surely they must have gained something for their sacrifice."

"Of course they did! They gained a lot of knowledge from studying and honed their skills as alchemists."

"Was it equal?"

"What do you mean 'Was it equal?'"

"Well, if you got to become a State Alchemist for studying for only two months, then shouldn't those who studied more and worked harder than you receive something of higher value?"

Edward fumbled for words, his mouth moving with the form of incoherent words. After a moment or so of failing to find the words he so desperately desired, he ended his search and resulted to glaring at Hohenheim, waiting for the answer.

"Their sacrifice was far more than their gain, Edward," Hohenheim supplied with a small sigh as he sipped the tea provided to him by Winry. "They spent so long studying in the hopes of passing and becoming a State Alchemist. But you were the only one who passed. All in all, once someone receives the greatest gain for the price, those who sacrificed for the same gain only receive on a lower and often descending scale. After all, what is knowledge and skill if they cannot put to use in the purpose intended?"

Edward stumbled in his mind for a response for a moment, and looked as though he would leap over the table and strangle the man out of anger. He probably would have had the chance too, if Alphonse hadn't spoken up, distracting his brother from his frustration.

"So then Dad, what else did you have to tell us?" Alphonse asked anxiously.

"I learned a lot of things over these many years," Hohenheim said quietly, closing his eyes as though in reverence of those years.

"Well, you sure had the time to learn enough. After all, you didn't have to take care of a family," Edward spat hatefully.

"Nii-san!" Alphonse gasped.

"No, no Alphonse, it's alright. I suppose I deserve that. And that's part of the reason I came here."

"So that I could hate you for everything in person? Is that supposed to make me feel any better about all this?" Edward demanded.

"No. I came here to apologize for leaving you and your mother."

"Apologize! You think that's going to make it any better! Sorry isn't enough for what we've been through!"

"Maybe it's not. In fact, I'm sure it's not. But I truly am sorry Edward, Alphonse. I can only hope you believe me. I know that I can never make it up to you. I know I can never repay you for what you've lost. But I can help you and make sure you never have to find out the cost of a life again."

"The cost of a life?" Alphonse whispered, afraid to know the answer.

"Yes. One can never come up with the proper price for a life. Not another life. Not a body and a limb or two. Nothing can ever be equivalent to a life. Of course, you know that already."

Both boys were silent. Alphonse watched his father quietly, and was glad for once that he didn't have a face with which to express his feelings, because he surely would have been crying now. He glanced quickly to Edward, who was staring at the wooden planks that made up the Rockbell porch. There was regret, pain and anger in his eyes. Alphonse wanted desperately to comfort his brother, but did not move, for fear that his touch would shatter the so seemingly fragile body and soul next to him.

"And so I came here to ask that you accept my help, both as a friend and... and a father," Hohenheim offered in a tone that reflected the shame and apology that he claimed to have.

"We don't need you!" Edward screamed, standing and slamming his hands on the table with such force that all the tea cups jumped and crashed again to the table. Hohenheim's cup landed on its side on the wooden surface and rolled off the table, where it shattered into little pieces. "Mom waited for you for years! She died waiting for you! She loved you, and you just up and left us, like having a family was too inconvenient for you! She loved you, dammit! She would have waited for you forever, but it didn't matter to you, did it! I doubt you even loved her!"

With that, Edward pushed away from the table, jumped down the steps of the porch and ran off into the distance, disappearing over the hill.

"Nii-san!" Alphonse said, standing in response, holding out his hand as though by doing so, he could grab hold of his brother's arm and draw him back. He sighed lightly, the helplessness of his position setting in on him now.

"I did love her," Hohenheim whispered.

Alphonse turned to his father, gasping both to hear his voice so suddenly, and because of what he said. Slowly, he sat down and looked at his father with what would be expectancy, if he had the face to express it.

"I loved her," Hohenheim repeated softly. His eyes were focused on the spilled tea on the table. "I loved her more than anything, and even after I left, I could think of nothing but her and you boys.

"But I had to leave. Neither of you may quite understand why, and I won't blame you if you don't believe me. But... I was forced to. If I had had the choice, I would have never left you, and I would have stayed here with all of you, and then none of this would have ever happened to you two."

"Can you tell me why you left?" Alphonse asked quietly.

Hohenheim thought for a moment, and then shook his head.

"I can't. I'm sorry. You and Edward can hate me for that, too. But just know that I did leave for a reason that was not in my control."

Alphonse remained silent for a moment and then leaned forward slightly.

"I don't hate you, Dad."

Hohenheim looked at his son with a look of disbelief in his eyes.

"I mean sure, I'm rather angry that you just left without telling us why, that you never came back, even when Mom died, and that you never even tried to contact us, even though you must have known everything that happened. But I mean... you're my dad, and I have to believe that you had a good reason for everything you did. Plus, I'm just happy that I finally got to meet you. I was too young to remember you, and all I had was the picture that Mom kept. I could only imagine what you would sound like, or how you would look when you laughed. The fact that now, I can finally know those things makes me really happy.

"Nii-san just can't deal with it right now. He's really confused. For all these years, he was so angry that you left, even when we were little. But I bet that, even now, he had always hoped, somewhere in his mind, that you would come back. But he's put so many burdens on himself that he can't deal with his emotions so easily. In fact, I haven't seen him cry for at least three or four years now. I'm sure he's wanted to, and maybe he has, at night when he's supposed to be sleeping, but I've never once seen him cry since the incident with Barry the Chopper when he first got his certification as a State Alchemist.

"Sometimes, I wonder if he burdens himself so much not just because he feels like it's his duty, but because he doesn't want to have the time to think about some of those things and let them get to him."

Hohenheim nodded, but didn't say anything. It was as though he was absorbing everything Alphonse told him piece by piece. Before either of them could say anything else, Pinako stepped out onto the porch and announced that lunch was ready. The two of them stood up and went inside. Before going in, however, Alphonse picked up the pieces of the broken cup and the one that hadn't broken. He glanced over his shoulder for his brother before going inside.

Edward didn't return until late that night, not long before everyone went to bed. He quietly opened the door and slipped inside, holding his boots, which he had removed before stepping in. He placed his boots next to the door and began to walk towards the stairs when Pinako's voice stopped him.

"Welcome back," she said in a tone that showed no indication that she knew what had happened, although Edward was sure that she knew everything.

"Yeah," Edward mumbled.

"We left your dinner on the table. Just heat it up, alright?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You can't just not eat anything all day."

"I did eat today. I ate breakfast."

"That's not good enough."

"It doesn't matter. I said I'm not hungry."

Edward hadn't looked at Pinako the whole time, and now when he went to take a step to go upstairs again, his arm was caught by the old woman and he was pulled down to face her.

"When are you going to stop throwing a temper tantrum and face the issue like a man?" she demanded, glaring in his golden eyes.

Edward only stared at her, his eyes wide with surprise and fear, but he made no attempt to pull away.

"I can understand that you're angry with your father for leaving you and not being there for you when you needed him the most, but running away from it isn't going to help you deal with it any better. You have to come to terms with it, or it'll never go away. You'll hold that hatred for the rest of your life, and one day, that hatred will hinder your judgement. Then what? What if, because of that, something happens to you, and Al loses you too?"

"I...I don't know," Edward admitted.

"The point is, he would be all alone. And he could lose the will to live. Edward, if you really plan on getting Al's body back, you have to prioritize. That means that you have to get past your issue with your father. And he is your father, whether you like it or not."

Edward was silent for a long moment, and then his golden hues narrowed. He then pulled away from her and started for the stairs again.

"Edward!" Pinako called after him.

"I can hate him all I want! And I will get Al's body back! No matter what it takes!"

With that, Edward ran up the stairs and slammed the door to his and Al's bedroom.

Hohenheim stepped behind the dumbstruck Pinako and placed a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him to find a soft, sorrowful smile on his face.

"I'll go talk to him," he said quietly.

"Are you sure you want to do that? He might try to attack you out of anger, after all."

"I'll be alright," he assured her. Then he released her shoulder and walked slowly and quietly up the stairs, just as Alphonse walked onto the scene, staring after his father.

When Hohenheim knocked on the bedroom door, he received no response.

"Edward?" he asked, knocking again. Once again, he heard nothing. He turned the knob. "Edward, I'm coming in."

Stepping into the room, he was greeted by shadows and silence. They rushed up to him as though to shake his hand, and he felt a brief claustrophobia as they surrounded him. Shutting the door, he effectively dispelled any light that remained in the room, since dark curtains, which must have been transmuted there upon Edward's entrance, obscured any illumination from the star filled night.

After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Hohenheim found Edward laying in one of the beds, facing the wall. He had covered himself with a blanket, and was clasping the pillow to the side of his head as though it were the solitary object that kept him alive. Slowly and hesitantly, Hohenheim sat on the bed, but in a way that he wouldn't be too close to Edward to make him feel uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he watched as Edward tensed and curled himself up into a tight little ball.

"You've grown a lot," Hohenheim said quietly after a long and awkward silence. "I remember when you didn't even stand up to my knee."

Edward offered no indication that he would respond. Hohenheim scratched his head and continued on softly.

"When I discovered that I had to leave, I was devastated. It meant that I had to leave Trisha and you boys. I was looking forward to watching you two grow up so much. You may not believe me, but I loved the three of you more than anything."

"More than you loved Dante?" Edward's voice whispered acidly.

"You know then?" Hohenheim asked after a long pause.

"Yeah. But I haven't told Al. He doesn't need to know that his father married his mother on nothing more than a fling."

"That's not true. I never really loved Dante. Not the way I loved Trisha. Trisha is the first and last woman I will ever love."

Edward was silent again, and then he sighed and tilted his head a little to catch a small glimpse of his father. But when Hohenheim felt his son's eyes on him and looked at him, Edward quickly turned his gaze back to the wall.

"So then, tell me why you left."

"I couldn't let her see what was happening to me," Hohenheim whispered painfully.

"What do you mean? What happens when you jumps bodies for hundreds of years?" Edward asked in a mocking tone.

The blonde's father was silent for another long moment, and then cleared his throat.

"I suppose that I should have expected you to know that much. You're such a smart young man, Edward."

"..."

"My body–no– my soul is breaking down, deteriorating."

Edward, his attention caught, rolled over in the bed to face his father, his face showing nothing except for his eyes widening.

"That is what happens when you jump from body to body. Your soul slowly dies, and the body dies with it. To put it simply, my body is rotting, and I couldn't let Trisha see that."

The elder man looked at the floor as though ashamed. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts now, that he did not notice as his son sat up in bed next to him.

"She would have loved you either way," Edward whispered. His father turned to him, his eyes widening now. "She loved you so much, and the fact that she waited for you until her death is proof of that."

Silence leaked in from the crevices in the walls and coiled around them for several long moments. Edward was staring at his father, waiting for an answer, whilst the elder man watched the floor.

"I'm sorry," Hohenheim said at long last.

"Sorry isn't enough to bring Mom back. Sorry isn't enough to make the pain go away."

"I know. But I'm still sorry. It was all my fault that his happened to you and Alphonse. But now I want to help you and be there for you two. If you'll let me, that is."

Hohenheim did not receive a direct answer. Instead, he received a hand on his shoulder, and a small but gentle smile. He returned the smile, and watched as his son then lay back down and went to sleep. He gently ran his fingers through his son's hair, the smile remaining on his face.

"There is no such thing as equivalent exchange. The proof is right here. There is nothing that I could offer in return for the love of my sons."