Here we go, people: the final chapter of this story, and I would just like to thank you all for sticking with me this far. I'll most likely be posting the first chapter of the sequel today, so I hope you people will enjoy that too!

Chapter twenty-eight

After a lot of convincing from Al and Dad, Ed finally found his way over to the hospital phones and dialled the number to the Rockbells. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to them, it was just that he had no clue what to say. Plus, Winry was scary when she got emotional.

"Rockbell Prosthetic Limb Outfitters," came Winry's voice and although she was trying to sound her usual self, he could hear that she had been crying a lot. Ed guessed that she had read the papers.

"Hey, Winry, it's Ed…"

"Edward? … So it's true what the papers said?" Her voice was weak and Ed was afraid that she'd start crying.

"Yeah."

It was completely quiet at the other end of the line for about half a minute. "… Uh, Winry?"

"YOU IDIOT! HOW COULD YOU LET US THINK YOU WERE DEAD?!" Winry shouted, forcing Ed to hold the receiver half a metre from his ear.

"Sorry…" Ed said, slowly getting the phone closer to his ear again.

"TWO WEEKS WE WENT THINKING YOU WERE DEAD! THAT YOU HAD BEEN TORTURED AND HAD DIED THE WORST POSSIBLE WAY!"

"I'm sorry, but I had to keep the others safe …"

"AND THEN YOU LET US KNOW FROM THE PAPERS INSTEAD OF SAYING IT IN PERSON?! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!"

"Because Dad got shot!" Ed said loudly. He felt terrible about what he had done to Winry and Granny. He knew he should have called them sooner, but he had been too worried about Dad.

There was a sharp intake of breath from the other end. "What?" Winry said weakly, clearly crying now that she wasn't screaming at him.

"We went to take out some of these bastards before the news reached them, and Dad got shot in the stomach. We're in the hospital now."

"Is he going to be okay?" She sounded frightened.

"Yeah, but he needed some pretty major surgery."

"And you, Ed, how are you? Are you hurt? In the article it said you got drugged yesterday."

"I'm fine. Everything's gonna be fine. I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner." Ed spoke softly.

"Don't worry about it, I understand. But is it over now at least? Are you safe?"

"I'm as safe as I'll ever be. It's not over, but we've exposed these bastards so the rest is up to the rest of the military. Listen, Winry, I'd love to speak to you longer, but I think Teacher's gonna kill me if I don't call her soon." Ed was still afraid to be out in the open for long, not because of the dangers of attacks, but because the press wanted a long, heartfelt interview with him that he really didn't want to give. At least in the hospital room, they could call the nurses to throw the reporters and cameramen out.

Here it was just Ed and Greg who was leaning against the wall further down the hall to give him some privacy.

"I understand," Winry said. "Please tell General Mustang to get well soon. And thank you for calling, Ed, it was good to hear your voice again."

"Yeah, you too."

Then Ed realised what he had just said and he felt himself blush furiously. "Gotta go! Bye!" Then he slammed the receiver down, panting, hoping that no one had heard him.

"So, you read the papers, then?" Roy said with a sigh as he walked inside the office, still using his cane to support some of his weight. It was his first day back since the shooting and he was only allowed to do paperwork for another few weeks. There was a large banner hanging from the ceiling with large, baby blue letters.

IT'S A BOY!

Beneath it hung another.

AND ANOTHER ONE!

Ed was walking next to him, looking absolutely horrified at the décor. There were blue balloons all over, all of them with pictures of Ed and Al taped to them. Some of them were from the articles, featuring Roy hugging a drugged Ed to him. The walls were covered with pages from the interviews and there was even a large cake on the desk in front of them, it too with a picture of Roy carrying Ed.

Havoc and Breda were laughing their heads off at Roy and Ed's expressions, Havoc was even brave enough to pull out a camera.

"Congratulations, Boss! You're a Dad!" Havoc said, still laughing.

What was worse, however, was that Hawkeye was actually standing in the corner of the room, smirking slightly.

"Even you, Hawkeye?" Roy found himself asking.

Ed was just blushing, seeming to have frozen in horror.

"I did not help them put this up, but as it was outside office hours, I figured that it didn't hurt team morale." She walked forwards, a present in her hand. She gave it to him, smiling warmly. "Welcome back, sir."

With only one hand free, Roy nudged Ed, gaining his attention. "Would you mind unwrapping this for me?"

Ed just nodded twice before throwing the wrappers off.

To reveal a framed photograph of Roy lying in his hospital bed, Ed and Al asleep with their heads on one shoulder each, Roy's arms around them. All three of them were smiling.

"When did you get this?" Roy asked, stunned. It was a beautiful picture.

"I came to visit you after being discharged from the hospital, but the three of you were already asleep. I didn't want to wake you, sir."

"Thank you, Captain."

"You're very welcome, sir."

"SO THIS IS WHY YOU GUYS HAVEN'T TALKED ABOUT THE NEWSPAPERS WITH ME?!" Ed suddenly shouted at Havoc and Breda. "YOU WERE JUST WAITING FOR HIM TO COME BACK TOO!"

"Of course, Ed, he's the one that made a whole nation believe he was a torturer only to come back with a heartwarming story of fatherhood. You, Chief, were forced through listening to all that stuff, so it's not your fault," Havoc explained, still smirking.

Roy just put his hand around Ed's shoulders and led him over to the desk. "Come on, son, let's eat this cake and not share it with either of these idiots."

Roy received a lot of funny looks that week and many smirks. People still seemed to be so relieved that Ed was alive that he got a lot less laughter when walking through HQ than what Roy did.

Still, it was good to come home to his house and just sit down and eat dinner with his sons. They had a fun time playing poker in the living room, but Roy quickly discovered that he had to keep an eye on Ed so that he didn't cheat and Roy and Al outvoted him two against one that Ed was not allowed to shuffle the cards.

Roy stayed awake longer than the boys. After all, Al still needed a lot of sleep and Ed didn't want to wake him by going to sleep at a later time. When Roy got ready to go to bed, he did as he usually did and opened the guest room door to just take a few seconds to look at the boys sleeping peacefully. The pair of them had been through so much already and they weren't even of age yet. Yet here they were, his beautiful, wonderful boys happy and safe.

Ed shifted in his bed and sat up slightly, rubbing his eyes. "Dad?"

"Sorry, Ed, I didn't mean to wake you," Roy said softly.

"Nah, it's okay, didn't have a good dream anyway."

Roy limped his way inside the room and sat down on the bed next to Ed. He slept without a wig, so he had a tiny amount of golden hair covering his head, making him look much more like a soldier than Roy thought he should. He sighed sadly at the constant reminder of all the pain they had gone through during that hellish week when they thought he was gone. "What did you dream about?"

Ed sat up straighter, looking at him. "About when you got shot. There was a lot of blood, too much of it. I couldn't stop it and …" Ed just looked down, not wanting to finish that sentence, but somehow he seemed to need to. "… And you were choking and dying and blood was running out of your mouth." Ed took another pause. "...And you spoke to me. You said that it was my fault and that … that you wished I wasn't your son." Ed mumbled the last part so that it was barely audible.

Roy just pulled him into a hug. A long, warm hug. "I would never think that, Edward, never. I love the two of you more than you can imagine."

Ed just hugged him back, tightly. "I love you too, Dad."

And so Roy just held him until Ed was asleep. Then he gently lay him back down in his bed and tucked him in. He kissed both boys on their foreheads and then closed the door quietly behind him as he left the room.

When he lay down in his own bed, he looked over at the photograph Hawkeye had given him and smiled. There was no doubt. They may have different hair colour, but they were his sons.