Along with other editing, I switched sections in from five to four for chronology's sake. I apologize for any confusion.

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Chapter 4: Children of War

Alphonse was asleep within minutes of finding their seats on the train to Central.

Arelana took the opportunity to look her husband over more thoroughly. He'd propped his head against the window frame in spite of his injury, his duster rolled between his face and the glass. Al's new charge had a side of the compartment all to himself and his pile of blankets and jackets. It was only after Lt. Klaus swaddled the boy in a fifth coat (commandeered from a grumbling Connor) that his trembling stopped. He nodded off halfway through the hot chocolate that had been scrounged from who knew where and passed along into their hands. The shallow rise and fall of the makeshift nest offered the only hint of life. Lana gathered up the cup dangling from one slack, downy thumb and set it aside.

She had already slid her jacket between her husband's stitched, spectacularly bruised shoulder and the rattling compartment wall. As his soft breath fluttered his sun-lightened bangs she was reminded of how much she loved to watch him while he slept. It's still hard to believe that for four years of his life he didn't sleep at all. She loved watching him whatever he was doing, but when he was asleep the faint worry lines around his eyes softened, and she could see her sons in his face. They smiled just as beautifully as their father did now.

Arelana had been born in Lior in 1901 with her twin sister Lavi, and grew up both in the relative peace under the Founder and the chaos of the civil war that followed his downfall. Her father was Jason Ashley, a traveling physician born in Central. He had come to Lior in 1899 and there met a school teacher named Ariela David, daughter of a Lioran professor of history and an Ishbalan refugee known throughout the East for her singing talent. Ariela was sharp, compassionate, quick-tempered and fiery, but it was her smile that captured the wandering physician's heart and tied it to the hot sand and open sky of Lior. "I saw your mother smile, just once—," her father would begin, laughing his booming laugh. "—and I knew my traveling days were over." Whenever he did this her mother always whapped him in embarrassment, but glowed happily for hours afterward.

Her father's occupation had saved them during the bloody civil war. In strife-torn Lior, a doctor was too indispensable to kill and too dangerous to make your enemy, if one day you should find yourself in need of his willing hands. They had helped whoever arrived at their door, be they Independent, Letoist or military, until the Independents decided that Dr. Ashley should be exclusive to their fighters.

Lana still dreamed, sometimes, of the faceless men who had come to their home in the night. She and her sister had never had time to scream before they had each been gagged, tied and tossed over a strange shoulder. Then they had been carried through the dark house to her father's study, where he had been bound with his own nightshirt. Once her father was presented with them, he had looked to their leader and nodded without another word.

Afterward her parents, sister and grandmother had been isolated and guarded by the Independent faction, but never harmed. Theirs was one of the few families to survive the war intact. The Ashleys fled to Central during the evacuation, and were among the earliest to return and begin restoration under the new administrator, Alexander Armstrong.

It had been Al's smile that caught her, over nine years ago in rebuilt Lior. It had been an August afternoon in the market square, when the heat was so dry and sullen that most people slept or nursed cold drinks in the shade of the myriad cafes and bars. The desert dust permeated everything during the dry season, and the clinic floor had to be rinsed twice daily to keep it from irritating their patients' throats and eyes, so she had gone for water to wipe it down. Lavi had skipped off as usual to put in an appearance with the covey of admiring boys who paid homage to her. Though they were twins, Lana and Lavi were a study in contrasts. Lavi was the undisputed beauty of the two; Arelana had always been stoic about how her own nearly black, outrageously thick hair and olive skin couldn't hold a candle to Lavi's rippling copper mane and golden tan. The only features they shared were the warm cinnabar of their eyes, their longish, board-straight Ishbalan noses and heart-shaped faces. Lana was quiet while Lavi was flirtatious, and spoke fearlessly to anyone she cared to. Lana loved working at her father's clinic and had rapidly advanced in her ambition to become a surgeon, even experimenting with alchemy to seal wounds and repair bones, but Lavi disliked the sight and smell of blood and fled the surgery whenever she had the chance. Lana and Lavi were night and day, earth and air, and loved each other all the more for the contrast between them. Lana was a rock, the sheltering tree her name implied, the one who came to the rescue when Lavi was in trouble (and Lavi kept her twin busy). Lana's was the shoulder her sister cried on when she managed to break her heart over the one boy who would have nothing to do with her. Lavi was the leader, the lion, throwing herself into everything headfirst. Lana loved and admired that recklessness, even when it caused them no end of trouble.

But some days the way every pair of male eyes rolled over her when Lavi was around was too much. It wasn't her sister's beauty she envied. It was that--though she knew her twin never intended it, and in spite of all the common sense that told her she was ridiculous to value the attention of men who only cared about appearances--her sister's admirers made her feel ugly and worthless.

That day the swarm of young men descended on them as soon as they stepped out of the door, and Lavi immediately stopped to chat and preen and bat her eyes, their chore forgotten. Lana sighed and cut her oblivious twin an irritated look, then snatched the dangling buckets out of her sister's hand and pushed through the crowd of worshippers.

She was halfway to the fountain square, buckets rattling in her fists, when it finally occurred to her there was no way she could get six full buckets of water back to the clinic alone. Lana snorted furiously and walked faster. She was too stubborn and embarrassed to turn around, even knowing that in the middle of a hot day the fountain would likely be deserted, and there would be no one to help her.

Yet that day the square was bustling in spite of the heat. The central plume of water seemed to be shooting higher than normal, throwing off a cool mist that felt wonderful when it touched her dry, dust-filmed skin. A large gaggle of children scrambled around it, wet, squealing and happy, while a few adults watched indulgently and enjoyed the spray. The mob of youngsters revolved around three men who appeared deep in discussion, but let themselves be interrupted every few minutes by small hands tugging insistently at their clothing. Then one would crouch, there would be a flash even brighter than the noon sunlight, and a child would run off with a cry of delight, clutching a new toy to their chest.

They're alchemists, Lana realized. Wanting a better view, she worked her way around the crowd to the side of the fountain closest to them. The first man was recognizable by his tremendous height and thick blonde mustache as the Mayor, Alexander Armstrong. One massive arm cradled a giggling child in a white lace dress, a little girl she recognized from the paper as the mayor's three-year-old daughter. Two boys who lived near her family's clinic dangled from the other arm like monkeys from a tree.

They sang out when they saw her. "Miss Lana! Miss Lana! Have you come to see the alchemists? Aren't they neat?"

Their excitement drew the Mayor's attention in turn. "Ah, Miss Ashley. Water for your family's infirmary? Your devotion to your patients never ceases to inspire me." In anyone else's mouth the words would have been simpering or sarcastic, but from Mayor Armstrong they glowed with sincerity and admiration. Lana felt her face flush hotter than even the sun could warm it and stuttered a thank you.

The mayor beamed. "It is merely the truth, Miss Ashley. There's no need for embarrassment. In fact, you may find that you have kindred spirits in my dear friends and fellow alchemists here."

The man in the grey duster held up his gloved hands self-effacingly. "Our jobs aren't nearly as important as a doctor's, Alex."

Mayor Armstrong set his daughter and the two boys down, encouraging them to go play by the fountain. "I find that you and your brother often underestimate the good you do others, Alphonse, but that wasn't what I wished to speak of. Miss Ashley is the reason I requested that you and your brother visit our city."

The eyes of the man in dark red (she remembered wondering whether they were truly the color of gold, or if the effect was some trick of the light) turned on her and narrowed. "And here I thought we were here to look over your problem with brigands on the Xingian trade route." He directed his unnerving gaze back to the mayor.

"Forgive me, Edward. I thought it better to mention only one reason for your visit, rather than risk an official…misunderstanding," The mayor rumbled somberly. The faces of the other two alchemists tightened, acknowledging some inference in the statement that she didn't understand. "Miss Ashley is pioneering what I believe to be a new form of alchemy. I have seen its results for myself, and recognize its great worth in the medical field, but I hoped you would evaluate it and perhaps vouch for her before the state, should need require it."

The expressions of both men sharpened with interest as they turned toward her. Unused to such scrutiny, she blushed and waved a hand in denial. "It's not really innovation. It's more like common sense."

"I'd like to learn about it, if Ms. Ashley cares to show us." That was the taller blond with the gentle bearing and earnest eyes. There was a strong resemblance between him and the man in red. He added hurriedly, "Only if you want, though. We don't want to intrude." His eyes lingered long enough on her face that she could see they were a warm, honey-touched color, not quite gray, not quite green. Nice eyes, really. They seemed kind, full of life and wit and humor…

They realized in the same instant they were staring at each other and blushed in unison.

The shorter man gave them both a smirk that was a little too knowing for comfort. "I don't know, Al. How about you handle this one?"

"I-What do you mean? What are you going to do?" The taller man glanced from her to his grinning companion, looking alarmed.

"Oh, I thought Alex could show me the sights, tell me about the thefts, maybe visit with Rose, give the kids their presents and meet up with you later. C'mon Alex." The man in the red coat shoved his hands in his pockets and ambled off without a backward look, whistling.

"But Brother—Alex—" The gray-clad man appealed to Mayor Armstrong as his brother continued to walk, feigning deafness, but began backpedaling when the mayor positively sparkled in his direction.

The alchemist didn't move fast enough to escape being enveloped in the mayor's trunk-like arms. Lana thought she heard the man's spine creak and winced in sympathy. "Such an expression of brotherly love! When I behold the beautiful trust Edward bears you, Alphonse--!" Too overcome for words, the mayor squeezed even harder, oblivious to the feeble struggles and bulging eyes of the puny morsel of humanity trapped in his grip. The alchemist peered between the steel-cable arms at her in desperate hope, appealing to her with his wide, lovely eyes and hypoxia-darkened face. A doctor born and bred, Lana could not refuse a man in distress, even from so benevolent a source. She tapped Mayor Armstrong on one bulging shoulder and spoke in the brusque voice she usually reserved for recalcitrant patients. "Sir, if you want me to give this man a presentation of my alchemy, I'll have to take him to the surgery now. I have to change the dressings and bedclothes this afternoon."

The mayor released the younger man so quickly that he stumbled backward, hands on his knees, sucking in great lungfuls of air. "My apologies, Miss Ashley," the mayor rumbled contritely down at her. "I was being unforgivably thoughtless. I will give Alphonse into your capable hands and catch up with Edward. And Miss Ashley--" one massive hand lit as gently as a butterfly on her shoulder as he twinkled at her—"Please believe me when I say that you can trust both Alphonse's expertise and his heart." Armstrong gave the slighter man one last clap on the back that knocked him forward a few steps, then lumbered off after the red-clad alchemist.

When she turned back to the gray-clad man his face seemed to owe its redness to more than shortness of breath, and he was having a hard time meeting her eyes. "Thank you for rescuing me. I'm sorry about this." He put a gloved hand to the back of his head and chuckled ruefully. "We've known Alex for a long time. He saved our lives," he explained. "And he's always gone out of his way for us, so we try to help him whenever we can.

"But if you're uncomfortable with me imposing on you this, I won't." His eyes flicked up to hers, begging for her understanding.

Lana was intrigued enough to allow the intrusion, but still irritated enough to let him know what she thought about it. "I'm not uncomfortable. I'm wondering who you are and what credentials you have that make you such a good judge of my work. If the mayor hadn't vouched for you, I wouldn't be doing this at all." She cringed inwardly. She hadn't meant to sound so sharp. "I apologize. It's been a long day." And it's one more blow to my ego to have someone as handsome as you around when I'm grouchy, sweaty and covered in dust.

The man flushed, the red spreading like thin ink across his skin. "Please don't. I'm the one who should apologize. It's more than fair for you to ask. I'm Alphonse El—Al. Please call me Al. My brother and I are alchemists; he works for the state and I help him do that." He seemed to realize he was babbling and snapped his mouth shut so fast his teeth clicked.

"He's a Nationally Certified Alchemist?" Lana was intrigued. She had always pictured National Alchemists as being her father's age or older. The qualification exam was reputed to take years of study.

The man gave her an odd look, as though bracing for something. Lana wondered if he experienced a great deal of hostility in Lior, a city sundered and obliterated by alchemy. She almost reassured him that she was one who remembered alchemy had also helped to rebuild her city. But when he only nodded mutely in reply, she gave a mental shrug and pushed the thought to the side. "I suppose you're as qualified as anyone could be. Would you mind filling those buckets? I'm sorry to have to ask," she said, then added under her breath "I thought I'd have help."

The alchemist overheard her muttered comment and flushed even darker. "I'd be happy to help as long as you can stand me. I don't know how else to apologize for all this." Then he smiled right at her.

Lana felt something flutter in the pit of her stomach. Oh... For what felt like forever, she just looked at him. And he looked at her.

In the end, the State Alchemist was forced to come and collect his truant brother from the Ashley infirmary. Hours had slipped by without notice while Lana and her new friend discussed and debated theories of alchemy, laughed over the misadventures of their siblings and scrubbed down the surgery. She even showed the attentive alchemist how to properly dress a wound, and had him practice on her arm to get the wrappings right. He had thanked her profusely, laughing ruefully about how useful it would be in looking after his reckless brother. It wasn't until after they left together that Lana remembered why the alchemist had come in the first place. And, wonder of wonders, he had forgotten as well.

He was back on her doorstep the next morning, sans his grey cloak and the shorter alchemist. He apologized copiously for his forgetfulness and disturbing her once again, but didn't hesitate longer than a second or two once she had invited him in. She had to reassure him the entire length of the hallway before he finally gave her the smile she had been waiting to see. Yesterday's oppressive heat hadn't been playing tricks on her after all; this man had to be something special, to have a smile like that. Warm and wise beyond the number of his years, as her grandmother would say. His wasn't a sad smile, but it knew sadness; not sly or practiced-seeming, though the glint in his eye declared him fully capable of mischief…A good smile in a good face, with a good story behind his eyes.

She resolved to keep this one out of Lavi's sight.

She was so immersed her speculation on the alchemist it took a full moment to realize he was speaking. Blushing (and irritated by the realization she'd been staring at him blankly) Arelana asked him to repeat himself.

He blushed in return and asked again if there were a yard or any land attached to the clinic. When she informed him that there was, he asked diffidently if he could see it.

Puzzled, she led him to the courtyard where patients recuperated, weather permitting. It was a quiet, secluded place. Her grandmother had planted the young succulents that dotted its span as well as the bright-flowered vines that clambered up the surrounding buildings. The surrounding buildings blocked the noise from the street and created shifting patches of shade through the scorching day. Her father had dubbed it the Oasis, and he and all the family nursed its greenery with the same care and devotion they offered their patients.

She slipped her sandals off and sighed happily, savoring the cool feel of the grass between her toes. She watched the state alchemist out of the corner of her eye as he gazed around avidly. He gave her a questioning glance, as though requesting permission, then trotted over to a clump of furiously blooming jasmine and buried his face in them. His happy sigh mirrored her own. "It's beautiful here," he offered, smiling shyly.

She smiled back, then quirked an eyebrow. "That it is. There's only one other place in the city that has greenery like this…but why did you want to see our garden?"

His smile stretched into something that put her in mind of a charmingly bashful six-year-old with a gift secreted behind his back. "Well…I was trying to think of something I could do to help with dragging those buckets back and forth, and I had an idea."

Still grinning, he clapped his hands, then crouched and placed them on the ground. She watched wide-eyed as ground rumbled and shifted, and a smoothly round circle of pale stone slid from the ground like some strange, swift-sprouting tree. There was a sliding, grinding noise as it grew to stand slightly taller than her waist. The alchemist grinned at it, then looked back at her anxiously. "Is it all right?"

"'Is it all right?' It's a well." Lana thought her grin would split her face. "I'll never have to go to that wretched fountain in the wretched sweltering sun ever again. Thank you." Before her nerve could fail her, she stood up on tip toe and kissed him swiftly on the cheek.

She barely brushed her lips against his jaw, but his eyes went wide and his paler skin blazed red from forehead to collar.

Suddenly aghast at her temerity, she said in a rush, "My father's wanted a well for years, but we didn't have the money to dig one because we take so many people on credit and some can't pay at all and he's too proud to let the mayor make one and he'll be so happy!" Her ears were burning, and she didn't dare raise her eyes from the ground.

"—'m very happy to help." Al mumbled to his heavy boots. The tips of his ears were the color of brick. He too seemed incapable of looking anywhere higher than her ankles.

The good sense that had abandoned her up to that point finally put in an appearance, grabbing her about the hormones and giving her a solid clout to the head. She forced a self-conscious laugh and rapped her knuckles against her forehead. "Right. You're here to see my alchemy, not to make my family gifts with yours." She turned and marched briskly back inside, the alchemist trailing in her wake.

He watched silently as she laid out the necessary supplies on the sterilized steel of a surgery table. Then, taking the scalpel delicately in her fingers, she made a quick incision about the length of her longest finger through the epidermis of her forearm. Al gasped in shock and reared back, then started to grab for her hand. "What are you—!"

"Wait." Arelana reassured coolly, firmly, utterly calm. "Watch."

Using the blood that oozed sluggishly from the cut, she drew an array with the incision at the center, then touched two fingers to its edge. Light flared and died, and she held up her arm, whole and unmarked.

It was only when she noticed he was gaping at her as though she'd grown another head that the possibility that she'd stumbled on something world-shaking dawned on her.

She waited patiently as Al struggled to find his voice. "Would you…please explain what you just did." His voice was strained, and there was a new, near-frightening degree of intensity in his expression.

"I…just analyze what's wrong and stimulate the flesh to do what it would do normally, only faster."

"Did you…did you test this on anyone? Anyone other than yourself?"

Lana began to give him a furious denial, then looked him in the eye, bit her lip and looked at the table. "There was one man who was brought to us a year ago. He had multiple stab wounds, and had nearly bled out before we even got him on the table. He was well into shock. A hopeless case. My father and I…we wouldn't have been able to work fast enough to save him. He would have died. So I did what I could. He lived."

The alchemist pinned her with his gaze. Hunched over, muscles tense but dangerously still, he seemed to fill the room. "Did his appearance change at all? Did you…sacrifice anything to heal him?"

Lana gave him a look between anxiety and disbelief. "Of course his appearance changed. I sealed the holes in his guts. And I didn't 'sacrifice' anything, other than energy and time."

"His eyes didn't change color? Hair never darkened, skin never paled nor had any marks appear on it?"

"Well, there was a tattoo on his chest that was never the same after I healed him."

She looked on in shock as the man visibly paled. "Tattoo? Do you remember what it looked like? Can you describe it?" His tone made it less of a question and more a demand.

He seemed startled when she grinned. "Of course. I'll never forget it because it was so surreal. My father and I were cutting his shirt off, and suddenly there was Sidney Silverton staring up at us. I had the most terrible urge to laugh."

Al's face went comically slack. "Who?"

"Sidney Silverton. You know, the film star? She starred in Wages of War a few years back. This guy had a tattoo of her across his chest. And I am not going to describe to you what she was doing."

Al looked so bemused she had to struggle not to laugh at him. "Never heard of her."

Lana started to giggle in spite of herself. "Well, it's a pity you never saw this tattoo, then. You'd never forget her!"

Al stared at her for a moment, then slowly lowered his face into his hands. She looked at him in alarm as his shoulders began to shake. "Are you all right?"

It was only when his eyes smiled shakily at her through his fingers that she realized he had been laughing. "I am very, very confused. Unless I've missed something, you've set a major law of alchemy on its ear, in complete ignorance and without any negative repercussions. And I really need to talk to my brother. Actually, we really need to talk to my brother. How soon can everything you need to do be done if I help?"

It took a few phone calls to find Al's brother and arrange a time and place to meet with him. After that, they made swift and mostly silent work of her chores. Even so, the sun was beginning to sink in the sky when they finally finished and left for the city green. As they walked, Lana finally gathered herself to address the man striding with his hands in his pockets only a little ahead of her. "I know what you must think of me."

She continued hurriedly as he started, before she could lose her nerve. "I know that—well that body alchemy is considered taboo, but it seems that--" It was suddenly hard to meet the alchemist's steady gaze, and she lowered her eyes. "It seems that most of the interest in body alchemy is in resurrecting the dead or—or looking for immortality, and stupid things—" she looked back up at him even as he seemed to flinch slightly. "But I'm not here to toy with lives. I'm here to save them, to…to do all I can to save them, any way that doesn't cause harm. All I've ever wanted to be is a doctor, so I could do that. So if you and your brother plan to censure me or call charges on me, I…" She hardened her face and looked away again. Her father's words rang clearly in her mind. Lana, you have a gift. Use it. And don't you ever, ever apologize for it.

"Just leave my family out of it. They shouldn't answer for what I do."

"Miss Ashley." His hand was on her arm. She was surprised that it hadn't startled her.

"Miss Ashley, no one's going to give you any trouble if we can help it." He looked her straight in the eye as he spoke. "You have my word. I'm sure this is why Alex called us…and not someone else."

There was something in his expression when he said it that made a hundred questions rise in her throat…and die again, unasked. He turned again and walked forward, and she followed him.

The city green was wreathed in afternoon light when they finally reached it. This was what Lana had meant when she said there was only one other place in the city like her family's garden. Mayor Armstrong had set aside a rectangular plot of the old city square and raised a fountain in the center. It was said that he, with other alchemists, had taken vines, flowers and trees as seedlings from the western islands, the desert, every corner of Amestris and beyond, then grew them to maturity in a day. This garden was more of a marvel to her than the rest of the city combined. Its beauty was such that artists as well as alchemists and scientists came from as far as Aerugo and Xing to see it.

"Wow." Al looked up as they passed under the living archway of huge Creta walking oaks. A broad stone path wound through a glade of slim, dark pine trees with silvery, trailing needles. Large granite outcroppings jutted from the ground, perfectly imitating the environment the trees would have come from. The entire green was a condensed patchwork of the country and surrounding territory.

Al brushed his fingers along the bristles of one of the pine trees, astonishment painting his face. "I can't believe it. These trees…I think they're from the mountains around my home…"

"Looks kinda familiar, doesn't it?" came a voice from above, and suddenly a white flash of teeth in an upside-down face swung down like some arboreal goblin to grin at her, not a foot from her own face.

Al leapt backwards. Arelana jumped and squeaked.

Once her heart stopped racing she recognized the owner of the upside-down smile as the shorter alchemist she had met earlier, dangling by his knees from a tree branch overhead. "You kids having fun?" he grinned, not seeming to realize, much less care, how ridiculous it was for a man of his apparent age to dangle out of trees.

It took a few false starts for Al to form words. "You are going to be very unhappy next time we spar, Brother. You just wait."

The man's long ponytail swung in a bright arc as he reached up, grasped the branch one-handed and unhooked his legs. He spun to face them as he dropped, still grinning, choosing to ignore his brother's comment. "Wait'll you see this, Al. Alex made…hell, just come look." The man bounced ahead of them.

Lana leaned in and whispered in Al's ear. "How much younger than you is your brother?"

She'd asked quietly, but Al's brother stiffened as though had she shouted. Beside her, Al snickered. "Actually, Brother's a year and a half older than me. He's just—"

"Finish that sentence, Alphonse, and Winry gets a new customer. Got it?"

"—immature," Al finished, grinning into his brother's scowl. Then his face went slack as he caught sight of something beyond his brother's shoulder. "That…is that what I think it is?"

"That" was a fountain that stood at the center of a clearing. The shorter alchemist looked around. Half a second later his expression matched his brother's. "I meant the trees and the…the grass…Alex got the Tringhams to make it look like…back…home…son of a bitch…"

"I take it you didn't know about this either."

"Of course I didn't. Hell, Al, you know how…damn, that is…"

"Eerie."

"Yeah." Side by side, they gaped at the statue which made up the centerpiece of the fountain.

Lana didn't see what was so attention-grabbing about this particular fountain, so she moved closer. The statue was actually two statues, one towering over the other as they stood back-to-back. The taller figure appeared to be, incongruously, a suit of armor that stood almost seven feet. Its helmet was tilted skyward, hands turned up to the burning clouds. Its stance seemed to carry a wealth of emotion despite its lacking a face to express it. The second figure was less than half its size and breadth, a statue of a youth, short enough to be thirteen but with a face mature enough to be fifteen or sixteen. He too looked skyward, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his duster. It was in his expression that the mastery of whatever artisan that had rendered them was realized. His face was wistful, sad and so lifelike Lana almost thought if she glanced back suddenly she might catch the statue breathing.

Everyone in Lior knew of the now near-legendary Fullmetal Alchemist. Some credited him with their city's destruction, some for the civil war, some for the evacuation and salvation of its citizens. Whatever the case, Lana thought it was appropriate that his memorial should stand in a place that commemorated the death and rebirth of Lior.

She leaned in and read the plaque aloud. "Two Brothers Fountain. In honor of Edward and Alphonse Elric, alchemists for Lior and all of Amestris. We shall not forget their sacrifice. November eighth, 1917."

"Scheisse." The older brother's jaw hung slack for a moment before he somehow managed to grimace with his entire body, looking embarrassed beyond all endurance. "I'm gonna kill him. Bloody goddamn sentimental sasquatch…"

"Brother, watch your mouth. I apologize for my brother, Miss Ashley."

"Don't worry, I'm sure I've heard worse. I'm not even sure what he said."

"I sai—mmf!"

"I did warn you."

The shorter man shrugged loose of his brother and wrinkled his nose at him before turning incredulously back to the statue. "I can't believe Alex did this. Tringham must've laughed his ass off."

"It's not that bad…I guess. Was I really that much taller than you?"

"No." The shorter man's face was brick red.

Al laughed faintly, still looking at the statue. "You're such a liar. I think Alex did a good job, though." Al's voice went so low Lana could barely hear him. "It looks like you."

"It does not."

There wasn't any real heart in the protest, but Al continued. "Remember that time we showed Alex where our home used to stand? I'm sure he took image from that. You look so…sad."

Al's brother grimaced, though it had seemed to Lana that the cause this time was pain. "Well, yeah. I was afraid you hated my guts for what I'd done to you." The two men exchanged a smile that made Lana's heart catch. It melted from both faces as they seemed to recall that she was there.

"Well—"

"Um—"

"Wait," Arelana held up a hand, and both men took the hint and fell silent. "You two are saying—you are the Elric brothers. The real ones." There was no lack of two-bit alchemists trying to pass themselves off as the long-lost Elrics in the East.

Al's—no, Alphonse Elric's—apology was in his face. "Al is what my friends and family call me. I'm sorry I misled you, Miss Ashley."

Lana was still trying to understand how her city's lost saviors or possible destroyers could be standing before her, real as, well, life. "I thought…I'd heard that the Fullmetal Alchemist was killed. Not that anyone was certain how or when, but everyone seemed to agree that he—I mean you--" she corrected, "—had died."

The two men threw each other an unfathomable look before they turned back to her. "It's complicated," they said together.

Lana smiled as she remembered, and quietly slipped her hand into her husband's. "Complicated" was an apt description for the Elric brothers. When their first conversation together finally got away from who they were and back to why Al was so desperate to speak with his brother after seeing her alchemy, the sun had already set. He related the incident to the national alchemist as they all retired to the rooms lent to high profile visitors at the Mayor's mansion (at Rose's suggestion and Alex's tearful insistence, at which the brothers had fallen all over each other to agree. They had no ambition to be enthusiastically squeezed into paste).

Al's older brother set three tumblers on the table and filled each with an amber liquor (she never touched it; the fumes alone made her eyes water) before seating himself again. Then, slowly, the two state alchemists recounted the…incidents…that had shaped them. It had been abbreviated, she knew. There was no explanation of their disappearance when she asked—not at that time, anyway—save for a thoughtful frown from the older brother and an apologetic smile from the younger, who quietly explained that it was far too long a story for that night.

What they gave her, bluntly and graphically, was a full account of the attempt they had made as children to resurrect their mother. What it had cost them…and the ultimate result of trying to recreate a life lost to the world.

We're telling you this so that you know why Armstrong called us and where our knowledge comes from…but also so you understand how real the danger of body alchemy is, and how close you might have come to something truly unforgivable…Al's brother had said that, absently flexing his exposed prosthetic hand.

The brothers had then speculated at her ability far into the night, while she listened and recounted the finer points of her alchemy, how she had first conceived of it and all the ways she had tested it. Al's brother—Ed, as he had requested she call him—had finally leapt out of his seat around one in the morning, yelling something about an alchemist called Kimbley. Al leapt up at his brother's shout, and the two of them babbled jargon back and forth excitedly, too fast for her to follow.

A flushed, triumphant Al had breathlessly explained that they knew of a man whose alchemic talent had been to rearrange the elements of a person's body without any alchemic rebound or other harmful effects—to himself at least. Al and his brother had been thrilled at solving their puzzle of how she performed healing alchemy. She shuddered, remembering the description of the particular type of alchemy the State Alchemist Kimbley had specialized in.

Alphonse surprised her back to the present by wrapping his strong, graceful fingers around her own. "Cold?" he asked. His eyes were still closed.

Lana smiled. "Hey there. I thought you were asleep."

"Was asleep. Fading in and out. And thinking," Her husband answered drowsily. He opened his eyes halfway to peer through his lashes at her. Outside the rain had slackened, but the heavy clouds and pale pre-dawn light still painted the world dull and gray.

"About the chimera?" Her husband had shown her the array he and his brother had been working on. A copy now rested safely somewhere in his coat. She hoped it would work, for her husband's sake as well as the boy's. The boy himself was cocooned in Al's camp blanket and curled on his side on the bench across from them. The concealing wool rose and fell with his breathing.

"That too." He slumped a little further in his seat, brow furrowed.

She leaned in and nudged him with her shoulder. "Hey you. Talk to me."

"It's just…" Alphonse sighed. "Just wondering if I've made a mistake."

She frowned up at him concernedly. "In what? How so?"

"Just… this. Being here. Being in the military."

Lana shifted around until her head rested on his shoulder. Al sighed again and rested his cheek against the crown of her head, moving his arm around her shoulders to bring her snugly against him. "What is your heart telling you?" she asked quietly.

"I think…I don't know," he responded, just as quietly. "I don't regret taking the test in the first place; it freed me to search for Brother when he went missing in Aerugo. And I don't regret so much that we were separated, because it wouldn't have been fair for me to stay with him, not when we were needed all over the country. And I don't regret staying because we were needed, and I thought I could accomplish more with a state certification, and that I could take some of the burden off of my brother…" Alphonse lifted his head from hers and stared outside again. Lana remained still, except to squeeze his hand more tightly.

"Then when they promoted me, I thought at first that I'd have more autonomy, and I did, but having my own group…after they did that, all my energy went into protecting the people I'd been entrusted with. I lost sight of why I was there in the first place, Arei."

Only Alphonse ever shortened her name like that; it was a private thing, like his name being shortened to "Al." This doubt was something he had voiced only to her, something he had not spoken of even with his brother.

"I'm starting to think that, in the end, I've defeated what I intended to do." He spoke the last so softly that Arelana wasn't certain her husband intended for her to hear.

"How can you say that?" Lana's throat tightened on the words. Her husband had laid his life and his future on the line to make the bargain that chained him to the military and freed him to save his brother in the same breath. She had defied orders and defied him to follow him after his missing brother. No one could know Alphonse for a day and not realize that if Edward were in danger, the last person he would think about was himself. She had known, and had fought his need to protect her tooth and nail to stay beside him. "Alphonse, you saved your brother's life."

Eyes closed, her husband pressed his lips to her forehead and replied quietly—"Yes. We did"— before looking out the window again. "But no one could do the things that Brother could do until I enlisted. Now that two of us are serving…I wonder if it's one too many." Al's voice dropped even lower. His eyes found the bundle that was the chimera and narrowed. "There's already been one attempt on him from inside the military, Lana, and we know it had to be someone high up who betrayed him to the Aerugans. With me around, whoever they are might conceivably gather more people to their side simply because the Fullmetal Alchemist isn't unique, and he's never let them manipulate him. I don't want them to be able to use me against him."

"And I don't trust Brother to tell me if there have been other attempts. He never wants anyone to worry, but he's always throwing himself at trouble, Lana. It's as though whatever he does can never be enough. He's not so reckless anymore—comparatively, anyway—" Lana's husband amended quickly when she raised an eyebrow. "Also the Colonel—I mean, General Mustang—he's always protected us and always will, I think. But Brother's still so…"

"Driven," his wife supplied.

"Yes. They take advantage of him, Arei, they really do…" Al trailed off, looking at her. "He should have been able to come home, marry Winry, and raise the kids in peace. He was so ready to be finished with it all, and then they told him he had to come back…as though he hadn't already done more than enough…" A rare flash of true anger crossed her husband's face. "They have no idea what he's already been through. What he did for this world. And they had the unmitigated gall to suggest he deserted…" Al's voice trailed off as he turned to grimace at his reflection. It was an old rant. He didn't need to subject his wife to it again.

"You think that if you leave, he might be better off? Or that he might be able to follow?" Arelana asked softly.

"…Maybe." Her husband said. "Just maybe. I just don't want him in danger anymore. Not if I've got any way to keep him out of it," he added, almost under his breath.

"Honestly, though, the other thing is that … I mean, I finally figured out …"

His sudden, tired laugh made his wife start. "Figured out what?"

Al's face folded, causing him to suddenly and startlingly look all of his thirty-one years. "I'm not cut out for this, Lana. Watching people die, and being responsible for their deaths…" Alphonse looked at his hands, which had clenched themselves in his lap. "I feel like little pieces of me are going hard and dropping off. The first few weeks after Tocker and Ellis were transferred I barely talked to them until Connor…pointed out to me what I was doing. I was afraid I'd get them killed too and I didn't want…I wanted to be numb. I didn't want to be hurt by their deaths, because if I let it hurt I might not be able to function well enough to keep the rest of my team safe. And it's not just them. One slip in control and I could kill people so easily…without ever trying."

Lana had seen her husband strained and haunted by the battlefield, but she had never before seen his fear lying so close to the surface. "I want to help people, and save lives…but I can't do it this way. I can't allow myself to do this anymore. Death should hurt; you can't be a human being if it doesn't…and no one can afford a state alchemist who's forgotten to be human. I won't wait for myself to turn into Kimbley. It's just…it's wrong for me. And for them."

He laughed again, soft and sad. "I guess… that this is something I'll always be a child about."

Lana's embrace turned fierce as she shook her head in denial. "Idiot. If you're a child, then the rest of us are babes in arms."

She pulled back slightly to look him in the eye. "I'm a doctor, Alphonse, and so is my father. He used to talk to me about empathy making someone the best and the worst surgeon. You have to understand beyond just the physical problem, understand the pain and the fear, and try to treat that too. But in return it becomes your pain, and hardens your heart while you're not watching. Keeping that empathy, keeping hold of who you are and refusing to kill it by killing other people…no one will ever convince me that this is a bad thing."

Lana placed her hand on her husband's chest, over his heart. "You and your brother went through everything without compromising who you are. You'll never be Kimbley, whether you resign or not."

Her husband's brow tightened, hooding his eyes before he closed them tightly. "I'm not so sure."

"Well, I am." She tweaked his nose lightly. "And you should know by now that I'm always right."

"Mm." She was relieved to see her husband's grim expression shift into something brighter as he leaned down to brush his lips against her forehead. "How did I manage to fall in love with someone so wise, but still willing to marry me?"

She brought her chin up to murmur against his mouth. "Flatterer. Don't tell me you weren't thinking the same thing."

"Mmf. But it's better to have someone wiser confirm it." His head dropped until his chin rested on her shoulder.

She turned her face into his neck, enjoying the warmth and the scent of him. "So, what will you do?"

"Mm." Al's forehead wrinkled thoughtfully as he stared out of the window. "The first thing is to make sure there's some other job for alchemists which allows them to be at least as effective at helping people. Senator Grumman's petition to put national alchemists at the disposal of the Congress and not the military might be a good place to start. Even the most conservative military personnel have to see that forcing an incompetent alchemist into command is just as bad as giving the position to someone inexperienced. Having alchemists promoted directly to Major…that worked for Brother, but I've seen other people since that didn't handle it well. And then I have to make sure my subordinates are transferred to someone I trust…and then there are the chimeras." He looked back at the sleeping boy as his arms tightened around her. "I have to see what can be done for Badenmeyer, his men and this little guy before I can think of leaving."

"I understand. Beloved, I think this is the right decision."

"Well, Brother will be happy, anyway." Al smiled ruefully. "You know, I just found out he's been declining promotions for six years now."

Arelana frowned. "He was? Do you know why? I would have thought your brother would be happy with a higher rank and more leeway."

"I don't know, but I have a good guess. Brother promised he wouldn't interfere with my decision to join the military or use his influence to protect me. He's certainly remaining a colonel deliberately; he may have been trying to give me the space I asked for." Al smiled.

"You mean the space you practically had to pound his head in to get, since he was so bent on protecting you while you were still a major." She grinned at him. "I was there for that little dispute, remember."

"Ha. That's true." The weight of his head left her shoulder abruptly. "We're slowing down. We must be pulling into Dublith." Alphonse consulted his silver watch and frowned. "We don't have time to see Sig before the train to Central comes through. And it's the only one that gets there today."

Lana smiled sympathetically. She liked Mr. Curtis very much. The huge bear of a man spoke little but treated their children as beloved grandsons and Al as a favored son. "We'll make it up to him the next time we visit. I'm sure he'll understand." Al nodded his agreement. He stood and stretched as the train ground to a halt, his eyes tearing as he covered a yawn. "We've got about ten minutes before our train arrives. Would you like to walk around the station with me?"

"What about our little friend here?" Lana pointed at the sleeping child. "Do you think he could stand to stretch his legs?"

"I don't think so. We won't be here too long. Let him sleep."

Arelana smiled and hooked her hands around his arm. "Lead on, fearless leader."

Her husband gave her a bemused look. "'Fearless leader'?"

Lana grinned. "Didn't you know? Your subordinates have given you another name. I think it suits you very well."

Al made a face. "It must have been Lane. It sounds like his sense of humor."

As they walked, she added, "I wouldn't bother to call him on it. His embarrassment should keep him in line for a while."

Her husband's eyebrows threatened to climb into his hairline. "Embarrassment? Lane? Are we talking about the same person?"

As they stepped off the train, Al's words echoed back into the compartment, making heads turn in surprise.

"He said what?"

---------

"Anyway, it was just a misunderstanding." She patted his shoulder reasurringly.

"Even so, I'm tempted to stick him with latrine duty for a month or so. With Connor overseeing him. Lane wouldn't get a moment's peace."

"Connor is your field medic, right? The curly-headed one who sounds so dry all the time? I didn't know you had such a cruel streak."

Al chuckled. "That's what I would be tempted to do—if you hadn't squished him worse than I ever could…" Her husband whipped his head around abruptly, his eyes scanning the station entrance.

"What is it?"

"Just for a second, I thought I heard..."

Al turned and trotted back toward the entrance. Puzzled, Lana followed him until she caught the sound that must have drawn his attention. "Oh…" she murmured, thinking, Of course. What else?

Alphonse stood by the arching doorway of the station, conversing with a pair of youngsters alike enough to be siblings. Between them she could make out a box marked with a childish scrawl: "Kittens 4 free to good Home." When she came up to them Al already had a ball of stripy gray fluff cradled in one hand, purring so loudly it was a wonder its tiny body didn't shake apart. It wrapped needle claws around his fingers when he stroked its belly with a gentle thumb, but he only laughed.

He caught sight of her at his shoulder and held out the kitten for her inspection. "Lana, look!"

She looked at the proffered ball of fluff, then back up at her husband, quirking an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to do something with this?"

Al set the kitten in her hands, smiling in that helpless way he had around anything small and cute. Rick and Louis had certainly used this vulnerability to their advantage when they begged for extra helpings of dessert. Her husband plucked another kitten from the box and stroked its ears until its internal motor roared to life as well. "I thought we could take them for the Aerugan orphans we found. I wanted to check on them when we get to Central, and I thought it'd be nice to bring them something."

"Oh? And where are you proposing these kittens stay when they're not at the hospital? I doubt very much that the staff allows patients to have pets."

"Aheh, well…" Her husband rubbed sheepishly at the back of his head. "I was hoping we might…"

Lana sighed in a long-suffering manner and turned to the two children. "Would you take ten cens for all of them?"

"Ah…" The children looked at each other, then back at her. "Um, we're giving them away for free."

"You have to treat them nice, though!" the smaller one piped.

"Oh, rest assured they'll be spoiled rotten." Lana handed them the money anyway. She rolled her eyes toward her husband, who had brought the two remaining kittens out of their box to join the one in he already held. He caught her eyes on him, watching them all while the kittens scaled boldly up and down his shirtsleeves, and smiled his sweet, effortless smile. She was no more immune to that smile now than she had been eight years ago. How can I, who would go anywhere and through anything for you, refuse you something that makes you happy, and is so easily granted?

"These are your brats," she intoned, leveling the index finger of her free hand at him. "Not mine. I'm not cleaning your clothes when they spit up on you." She smiled wickedly. "And I'm definitely not changing their diapers."

Al laughed merrily. "Deal."

Looking at him, Lana's expression softened into something more tender. "Actually, speaking of brats, there was something I wanted to tell you—"

The sudden piercing shriek of the train whistle made her break off with a start.

"Oh no! The train!" Al gathered the kittens into their box, grabbed her hand and sprinted for the platform. It was as the train station disappeared behind the horizon that the clouds broke, allowing the thin pale rays of morning sun to reach them at last. Al was asleep once again, lulled by the rocking of the train. Three of the four kittens were curled in a single mound of fur, resting atop the cloak Al had spread across his lap. The orange kitten, dissatisfied with its offered bed, scaled its benefactor's shirt until it found a suitably lofty perch under Al's chin. It curled there, kneading his shoulder contentedly and purring at the top of its little lungs as the train thundered northward. It didn't begrudge the head of longer, darker fur that joined it on the claimed shoulder a few minutes later. It merely purred into the available ear and nuzzled the more slender, but no less gentle hand as it obligingly rubbed its ears. "I guess we'll tell him later, huh?" The kitten purred itself into exhaustion and fell asleep. Not long after, Arelana followed.