Summary: Leaves from the vine, falling so slow. Like fragile, tiny shells drifting in the snow. Come home little soldier boy, come marching home. Brave soldier boy, come marching home. Come marching home.

ANSWERS TO REVIEWS:

Lily: Yeah but I meant the Homunculi "as a whole" didn't actually eat humans, but I planned on mentioning Gluttony in the second part! :)

Bob: Eheh, I hope you're not too disappointed. I didn't have much time to familiarize myself with AOT quite well yet and I've only watched bits and pieces and the first few episodes of it so I'm not sure how far the manga or even the anime is for that matter. If you want something to happen in Part 2 you want me to write just write me down all the details! :) Details help me write the story better haha

Jadasimone16: Oh thanks! ^^ Eh, tbh I think I've written this chapter like crap T_T but I'll edit it again and update it! Hmm...fate/stay night huh? I think I heard it somewhere before..I think it's a video game but I'm not sure. Could you write down a few details on how you want the chapter to look like? Just so I have some pointers please! ^^ Thanks!

Penguin20: Hey there! Long time no see! I've been wondering where everyone went :3 Ah, Naruto huh? Give me some details and I'll write it right up! ;)

Panic: T_T THANK YOU! (hugs) Eh, I have to confess, while I was writing it I imagined the grief Lena would have felt and I coupled it a bit with personal experiences. Originally, it was much...bloodier? Rougher? Yeah...I had written her beating Ling up pretty bad until she snapped to her senses when she saw the first tear roll down Ling's cheek and then came the tearful hug scene and the rest. . Phew.

CROSSOVER NOTE: I'm a bit disappointed by my crossover "Attack on Homunculus" (also since I've received, so far, mostly negative comments) so I'll update the first chapter and see where I'll go from there. .

Enjoy!

Come Home Soldier

Leaves from the vine, falling so slow.

Spreading his little arms out, Ed's cries of laughter and joy cut through the air and rippled through her like a melodious song, instilling tranquility and peace within her heart and soul as she watched her little son play in the fields.

Like fragile, tiny shells drifting in the snow.

Her two boys stepped outside and experienced their first winter together, Edward chasing his younger brother Alphonse around the white terrain until both had come to the porch with red noses and freezing hands.

Their mother's laughter warmed them from the inside and their freezing hands were warmed by the warm mugs of hot chocolate as the little family sat by the fire. Their mother's soft voice sent them to the land of dreams as the snow gently fell outside.

A crack in the glass of the window pane went unnoticed by the family, until the tiny crack grew to shatter the once solid glass the next harsh winter.

Come home little soldier boy, come marching home.

Watching with tears in her eyes as her two sons, now young men with wide grins and broad shoulders, walked out of the family house with the promise of return on their lips and hope shining impeccably in their eyes.

And when she saw them turn their backs to her, she clasped her hands together in a prayer and prayed, oh god how she prayed, that this wouldn't have been the last time she saw them.

Brave soldier boy, come marching home.

It had been the day the war finally ended, a joyous day for everyone as she anxiously sat in her seat by the hearth and waited, waited for the radio to report anything to the soldiers on the frontlines. But nothing came.

The next day, it did.

Somebody opened the door and when she rushed to see who it was, her eyes filled with tears.

Of relief.

Of sadness.

Because only one of her boys came back.

Come marching home.

Come little soldier boy, come home.