Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. Not making any money of this. Love the idea of Ed and Roy. Please leave me a review if you like the story.

Author's Note:

First of all, a big Thank You to everyone who reviewed the last chapter; I'm glad so many of you liked it as much as I did. In many ways, it would be the perfect ending, and for those of you who feel that way, please do feel free to regard Chapter 21 as such, because I have to admit I was in two minds about it myself. It's always nice to go out on a dramatic comeback, a romantic conclusion, a theatrical quote. But as much as I love happy endings, I just thought there were a couple more things to explore. I've always been one of those people who wonders, "What happens after ever?" So Ed has his memories back – does he just pick up where he left off? His grand quest to restore his brother's body is done – what does one do when one's heart's desire is fulfilled? Real life isn't neat that way. If it were, I wouldn't be posting this so late. My life has recently gotten a little more complicated, so updates will be a little more infrequent going forward, sorry. But as our heroes do, we soldier on, for ultimately roads are made for journeys, not destinations…. Glad to have you all on this one with me! Much love tomy faithful reviewers, and a hello to the new fellow-travellers who've come on board and stopped by to tell me they liked the previous chapters. Stick around, we've got a little ways to go yet on this train – NF.


Chapter 22: Everything Old Is New Again

"Uh-huh. Yeah, it really is me, Winry. Ed, not Auric…well, kind of Auric too, but that's a story for…yes…ow…Winry…please stop yelling, I didn't exactly choose to lose my memories and wind up stranded on the next plane over for…yes, I know Al was upset…." Edward Elric shifted uncomfortably and moved the phone from one side of his face to the other, his neck craned at an awkward angle as he sat on the corner of Mustang's desk, receiver pinned between ear and shoulder. Alphonse hovered by sympathetically, wincing as he caught the faint, shrill echoes of his wife's voice and a couple of clashing noises probably caused by said wife flinging wrenches about in agitation. His brother rolled his eyes at him as he obediently grunted asset into the mouthpiece, "Yes. Yes, I'm going to be careful. No, I realize that I've probably exhausted my supply of return tickets from the Gate – although this time it really wasn't my…all right! I promise! Listen, we don't have much time, so give my love to the kid and to Granny Pinako, and I promise I'll come see you all the moment the bastard Col…General gives me leave, all right?" He cringed as a screech was heard, then, "Al enlisted, Winry. And technically, I was always MIA, so I'm still in the…oh, listen, isn't that Winnie crying? You should go check on her, I'll get Al to call you back, all right? Bye!" And he hung up with indecent haste, a hangdog look on his face. "I'm away four years, and nothing's changed with that woman. I swear, I think she's annoyed I no longer have automail so that she can use it to get back at me!"

Al grimaced sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, brother. She was the one who held it together when you first returned as Auric, so I guess this is delayed stress relief. She really missed you the past four years, you know. We both did." His eyes lingered happily on his brother's figure, as though looking away would make Ed vanish again. Since his brother's return from the Gate of Truth, Al had taken to sticking closer than a shadow, especially during the long journey back from the Battlefield Of The Drachman Rout to Central, keeping gawking sycophants away from him and firmly vetoing any suggestions that Ed open a Gate to speed up the triumphant return. And to be fair, Ed hadn't exactly tried to dissuade him of the idea, since he had been very, very tired at the time. Not to mention that if he never opened a Gate again, it would be much too soon.

"She missed having someone to abuse, more like," Ed huffed acerbically as he shook out his shoulder and rolled his head from side to side to work the kinks out. Since their return to Central, the brothers had, in addition to being hounded by the propaganda machine with countless requests for interviews and public appearances, been inundated with rebuilding and restoration duties owing to the lack of qualified alchemists, and what little spare time they had was generally spent passed out in exhaustion. It had been a good week before they had found the time to spare a thought for their family and friends in Risembool; unfortunately, what was supposed to have been a quick call to home to let everyone know they were all right and had won the war had turned into a marathon phone session once Al had let slip that Ed now remembered everything. It was a good thing they had been able to borrow Mustang's office and phone rather than tie up the one in the Officers' Mess. Not that anyone would actually have dared to interrupt the Fullmetal and Earth Moving Alchemists, but there would have been a distinct lack of privacy, and Ed wasn't particularly keen to have his reputation tarnished by the knowledge that there was one person he was afraid of, and that it was a she to boot. "I can't believe mama used to think we'd wind up married. I always knew it would be you, Al, you're the only one calm enough to keep her grounded! We'd kill each other before the day was out."

"So you aren't…upset?" Al asked cautiously.

Ed looked bewildered. "Why would I be? She's a good friend, Al, but I've never been in love with her. If anything, I'm happy you two have each other…it makes me feel less guilty about the last four years." His face darkened. "I'm sorry I left you alone, Al - I just couldn't face living without you…you were always the stronger one that way."

"Now you're being silly," said Al morosely. "You did it to save me. Given what I was prepared to do when I thought…you had died again…" and his face clouded with guilt in an eerie mirror of his brother's. "At least you didn't try to hurt anyone the way I did."

"Stop it," Ed urged softly but firmly. He reached out and lifted his brother's chin with one hand, forcing silver to meet gold. "You were upset. It's over now, and I'm back, and you aren't a killer. What's past is past. Let it go."

Al shook his head in distress. "But the thing is, brother…I know I could have been. I was so close…the General was trying to stop me, and I wouldn't listen…it was like I was a whole other person, and all I could think about, more than seeing Winry and Winnie again, was that I had to bring you back, that I didn't care what I had to give up as long as I could have you back, that I wanted you back more than mama even…and suppose you had been dead and I'd brought you back as a Homunc…."

"Stop it." The flatness of Ed's tone arrested Al effectively in mid-sentence. He stared in wonder at the austere set of his brother's face, brows drawn together over eyes now dark amber with emotion. "You wouldn't have done anything so stupid, Al, I'm the rash one, remember? Just accept that you were…a little distressed at the time, and leave it at that. Brooding won't alter the past. Fate is – we can but change how we deal with it." For an instant, the inescapably weary fatalism of a Gatekeeper flickered across Ed's features even as he forced a too-bright smile, trying to lighten the sombre mood. "And I didn't cuss out the Gate of Truth to get back here only to listen to you beat yourself up. Anyway, that bastard General would have stopped you – I can't believe I'm saying this, but he's a half-decent alchemist when he quits fooling around and gets down to business."

"Thank you. I think." Roy Mustang stood in the open doorway, leaning up bemusedly against the doorframe. "In which case, if you're quite done using my phone, may please I have my office back so that I may work on becoming half-decent before Hawkeye shoots us both?" He inclined his head fractionally to one side as he acknowledged Alphonse absently, but most of his attention was focused on the older Elric, who flushed under his silent regard. There was something inherently intimate about the close study of another, thought Roy absently as his eyes traced the pleasing planes of Ed's now-adult face. The fine, almost invisible hairs along his cheekbones and along his collarbone seemed almost to glow in the sunlight and highlight the elegance of the fine bones under the fair skin – it was odd, but since Ed's return from the Gate, his physical presence, always startlingly beautiful, had become even more heightened. And Roy didn't think it was just him – he was sufficiently clued into the military grapevine to know that the astounding good looks of the Fullmetal Alchemist was a popular topic of discussion among officers and enlisted men alike.

Ed snorted. "Why bother? It's a lost cause – you're always going to be an indecent bastard. Can't believe they made you Fuhrer-elect. Come on, Al, let's go to the gym for a bit; I need to hit something hard." His golden locks, a little shorter now as a result of the ends being burnt off, were still long enough to be spilling over his shoulders, and he pulled them back into a ponytail with unnecessary vigour as he slid gracefully off the corner of the desk. Stray glittering strands gleamed in the fat beams of late afternoon sunlight that poured in through the huge windows and backlit his slender figure, making him look as though he were a statue gilded in gold. The alchemist in Roy likened it to the perfection of a metal by fire – pure, unsullied, revealed in all its glory – even if Ed had taken it to its literal extreme by plunging into fire. Pity about the hair, but it would grow back soon enough. Actually, with his hair bound back, Ed looked very much as Auric had at their first meeting – irritated, troubled, wary…and lost. But why the last? Edward Elric was finally home, after all, whole in body and spirit, and reunited with his brother. His dark eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly in consideration of this new problem even as he pushed off the doorframe with feline grace and stalked across the carpet towards his prey.

"Indecent? Not yet, but I'd be…happy to work on it. And I still have the bottle of port I took off Maes if you're interested in helping out…."

Al frowned as he watched his brother's expression tighten almost imperceptibly at the General's insinuation – the familiar sniping that seemed to be his brother's favoured style of communication with the General seemed a little…off, somehow. Almost half-hearted, as though Ed were merely playing a role he felt was expected of him. Come to think of it, after that dramatic and very public display of affection when he had essentially returned from the dead, Ed had held himself aloof from Mustang, and as far as Al was aware, had avoided speaking to the man except on official business, and even then always in the company of others. He simply hadn't thought about it before because they had been so busy, and Ed's behaviour could have been attributed to fatigue, or a desire to appear professional, or simple preoccupation with the rebuilding effort – his brother could be very single-minded when focused on the task at hand. But in light of the odd tension in the air, he was quite certain it was his brother and not the General who was being stand-offish, which was odd because Ed was usually very decided about his likes and dislikes. And Al was pretty sure Roy was a like.

"Sorry. Busy," said Ed shortly, and Al started, because for a moment his brother had sounded less like the Ed of his memories and more like the Auric he had come to know. "Come on, Al. Thanks for the use of the office, Mustang," and he was out the door, his hunter-green cloak flying out behind in his wake. The moment they had gotten back to Central, Ed had shed the standard-issue black trench that he had been forced to use after losing his coat to fire and insisted on adopting Auric's old cloak with a stubbornness that Al knew better than to question. So instead he watched. And he wondered if the General had noticed Ed's strangeness as well.

Concerned grey eyes met midnight ones in whose dark depths lurked glints of puzzled hurt and worry. So he had noticed. "Don't worry, sir, I'll find out what's wrong with brother. He's been…tetchy ever since we returned to Central, and we've been busy, preparing for your inauguration and helping out with the rebuilding effort," Al offered wanly, wanting to console the older man. "You'd better get to work before Captain…um, I mean, Major Hawkeye gets angry, there's a lot to do before the ceremonies for your official promotion to Fuhrer next week." And with that he hurried after his brother, feeling the Fuhrer-elect's stare boring a hole between his shoulder blades.


"Yo, boss," Havoc greeted the lithe blonde with a lazy stream of smoke as he stomped past his desk. Ed turned, smiling tightly as his nose wrinkled up in disgust.

"Captain. Still playing with fire, I see. Thought I told you to give up the cigarettes; I knew I should have made the recommendation for promotion contingent on something." He frowned. "Wait a minute, when did they let you out of hospital?"

"Couple of hours ago. And I was bored sitting in the BOQ with nothing to do, so I thought I'd come help out with Mustang's big party plans – the inauguration ceremonies, I mean," he amended hurriedly as Ed's expression darkened further. "Geez, boss, what's eating you? You seem a little uptight – but don't worry, I'm sure the General will have much more time for you once he's Fuhr…." A sharp gunshot and his cigarette vanished from his lips, snapped in two by a bullet that had barely squeaked past his suddenly pale face. "Riza! What was that for?"

Newly minted Major Hawkeye stepped into the office, eyes narrowed as she reholstered her pistol. "Primarily for smoking in the office. Secondarily for embarrassing Lieutenant Colonel Elric. Lastly, because you're here instead of in your quarters on bed-rest as the doctor ordered. Any other questions, Captain?"

"No, ma'am!" snapped Havoc and Edward simultaneously. The taller of the two smiled winningly at his girlfriend. "I love it when you talk tough."

Hawkeye's lips twitched, but her gaze remained stern. It felt good to have things returning to normal – or as normal as a change of regime and a new relationship could get. "Fine. Then get your feet off that desk and start working on the security details for the inauguration ceremonies, Captain. And as for you, Colonel…."

"Actually, I'm headed to the gym with Al," said Ed hurriedly. Make that two people, both female, that the Fullmetal Alchemist was afraid of. "Oh look, here's Al now. I'll be going now, perhaps I'll see you in the mess later?" Alphonse smiled in greeting as he came up behind his brother. Hawkeye had to smile back – the young man just had such a sweet, easygoing way about him - but she had to admit, ever since she had seen what Alphonse was capable of when enraged, she couldn't quite look at that mild, unassuming face the same way. The bond between the brothers was almost palpable when you saw them together, and she marvelled again at the way they kept each other anchored. Or was contained a better word? The pair turned as one towards the door, but stopped short in their tracks as a shadow fell across the carpet.

"Hello, happy campers, I come bearing gifts!" boomed the hearty voice of Maes Hughes as he came through the door. "The latest pictures of Alicia, taken while we were away!" His eyes twinkled behind their square frames, happily ignoring the panicked, wide-eyed expressions that greeted him.

"Oh…um…that's nice, but we were just going to the gym!" said Al with just a shade too much enthusiasm. "Exercise! Good for the body. Right, brother?"

Ed nodded enthusiastically as he opened his mouth to agree, but was beat to the punch by Maes. "Oh, Alicia's very good at sports – in fact there are some here of her playing tennis! Excellent hand-eye coordination and balance. Which reminds me, Ed, how is yours?"

The Fullmetal Alchemist blinked. "What?"

"Well, I've just come from a meeting to discuss Roy's swearing-in, and everyone agrees that it would be incredibly symbolic and very good propaganda if you'd attend the inauguration – and even better if you'd swear him in. Normally we'd have a judge do it, or possibly a priest, but after that debacle in Lior, it's felt that it would be best for the government to appear as secular as possible. And science - Alchemy - is our highest allegiance in this country. After Amestris itself, of course."

Al looked nervously over at his brother, who was not looking thrilled. In a sign of how much had changed in the last four years though, at least he wasn't blowing anything up. "Maes…I hate this sort of thing. Pomp and circumstance and all that. Surely there must be more senior alchemists available. Plus…I'd be swearing in that smirking bastard. He'd smirk. I'd want to hit him. This is a bad idea."

"More senior, but not more exalted. You're a legend, Edward - the people have claimed you as their own. Would it kill you to lend Roy a little of your star power? It never hurts to start off being Fuhrer on the right foot, after all."

"He's got more than enough of his own." Ed's face had gone strangely expressionless, thought Maes, puzzled. He thought his friend and Ed had finally reached an understanding of sorts – in fact, he'd been planning to have them over to dinner with Gracia before the inauguration, maybe even have Riza and Jean over too, and Al and Winry – Gracia was always going on about how they didn't entertain enough or go out with other couples. What was going on? "But fine, I'll do it. Someone has to be around to take him down a peg or two in case his head starts to swell during the ceremony. And I should be around to ensure my…Auric's…contract is appropriately dissolved."

Maes nodded slowly, still digesting Ed's sudden reserve. "You'll have to wear a dress uniform, of course. Sorry."

The blonde man shrugged. "You already have my measurements," he pointed out, the careful neutrality of his tone all the more accusing. "Just make sure someone tells me which bits of ribbon go where – I hate those fiddly little things. And don't even think of forcing a regulation haircut on me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Maes laughed. "Your hair is your signature, Ed. And Roy would kill me." There it was again, that blank look that said the wearer was hiding something. It was strangely familiar though – and then he had it. It was the same look Roy had worn around Auric initially, when he had been determined not to impose his feelings for Ed on the Gatekeeper. But what did it mean coming from Ed? Everyone that mattered already knew about the feelings between the Flame and Fullmetal Alchemists, so it couldn't be that, surely?

Ed growled and turned on his heel. "If anyone else needs me," and the flatness in his tone suggested that it would be greatly to their advantage not to need him for a while, "I'll be at the gym with Al." His back disappeared out the door, Al following, and then Ed's face reappeared in the doorway, scowling. "Hey – what did you mean about my balance? And for your information, it's just fine, thank you very much."

Maes looked meaningfully at Hawkeye, who glared meaningfully at Havoc, who pursed his lips around a fresh cigarette and winked meaningfully at Fury, the only member of the office who had been silent thus far. The bookish young man squirmed uncomfortably under Ed's baleful gaze, looking hopefully about for help but finding none. Finally, he squeaked, "Well…you see, the Fuhrer is sworn in on a copy of the Constitution…and it's a rather large tome, and you'd be holding it in one hand since you'd have your other hand raised for the oath-taking…and…and…."

A familiar roar. Some things were different, Maes decided – and he was going to figure out why - but on the other hand, some things would simply never change.

"Who are you calling short?"