Edward Elric was only five years old, but he was no idiot (even if Winry said so sometimes). He knew Dad wasn't coming back.
The man had been gone for five months already. No phone calls. No letters. Nothing. Even Uncle and Auntie Rockbell sent letters from Ishval; it was like Dad had vanished off the face of the earth the second he'd walked out that door. Ed may have been a genius, but he didn't have to be one to put two and two together. Dad had left. For good.
Well. Not like Ed cared. Not like Dad had cared - not about anything but the research that kept him shut up in his study every night. (Books were great, Ed had to admit, but Al and Winry and Mom were way better than books. What kind of jerk would choose some stupid papers over his family? A jerk would, that's who.) And if Dad hadn't cared, then Ed wouldn't either.
So, contrary to whatever Al said, Ed did not care. He didn't miss his father at all. Not one bit.
...Okay, maybe just a little bit.
But that didn't matter. Not when Mom was all he and Al had now, and Mom missed him so much more.
She smiled, whenever his name was mentioned. But then the tears would prick at her eyes and she would laugh or turn away or change the subject. She was happy, but she was sad, and Ed couldn't understand it - just that it was his father's fault.
Dad was the reason she was feeling like this. Dad was the reason she cried at night when she thought nobody could hear.
Dad had left. He hadn't cared. Not about any of them.
And if Dad hadn't cared, then Ed wouldn't either. (No matter how much he wanted to.)
