Not for the first time in recent memory, it's the sun illuminating the tent that wakes you. For a few moments, you silently bask in the morning glow, the warmth and light reminding you of home…

… then it hits you; you've slept in!

Everyday since you started travelling with just Scar and Marcoh, you've been woken up at dawn. If the sun is high enough in the sky to seep into the tent, it must be well past dawn. If you had to guess, you'd say mid-morning, but that's not what matters now.

If you're still in bed, does that mean the others have left without you?

It would make sense. Scar has surely noticed your fatigue lately, and with Marcoh knowing the reason… perhaps they were concerned you'd slow them down, so they've abandoned you!

You dismiss the thought as soon as it arrives; despite his seeming desire to send you away, Scar wouldn't just leave you in the middle of nowhere. You don't even know which part of the country you're in at the moment. Scar and Marcoh both may have done things in the past the defy human kindness or reason, but neither of them are cruel enough to abandon a pregnant women in the woods.

Then again, as you didn't tell Scar last night, only Marcoh would truly be guilty if that.

This worrying is getting you nowhere fast. What you should before jumping to anymore conclusions is open your eyes and examine your surroundings. Yes, that's a solid idea.

You end up opening them a lot quicker that expected when something warm brushes against your collarbone.

Your eyes open with a jolt, and end up meeting Scar's own eyes. Well, at least that proves he didn't up and leave you first thing. It doesn't explain why you've been allowed to sleep for so long, but it does explain why you felt something warm against your skin a moment ago; his fingertips are gently pressed against your collarbone, stroking along it with an almost painful tenderness.

When he notices you jolt in surprise, he smiles apologetically. 'I hadn't intended to wake you. The sight of your bare shoulder was too much for me to resist apparently. Did you sleep well at least?' You're just relieved he's still actually here, even if he did spook you for a moment. You probably shouldn't tell him that though…

You give him a sleepy smile. 'I slept wonderfully, but I must admit I'm confused. Why didn't you wake me at dawn?' There must be a reason behind it. It's not like he just forgot that you need to be awake to walk.

Scar's fingers move from your collarbone to your neck, sliding up it slowly until he reaches your jaw. 'You needed rest. Marcoh told me I've been pushing you too hard lately. Consider this an apology of sorts.' The fingers dance across your jaw and onto the opposite side of your neck, before trailing along your other collarbone.

A mild degree of panic sets in; surely Marcoh hasn't broken his word already? No, he wouldn't have. You trust him enough to keep something this important a secret. Still, he said something to Scar…

Desperate to know exactly what the doctor said, you casually press Scar for details. 'He did, did he? What did he say exactly?' You hope your questions don't make his suspicious. Then again, he's the one that brought it up; he should really be expecting these questions.

Fingertips trailing from collarbone to sternum, Scar smirks. 'That I have been too demanding. That my desire has overwhelmed my common sense. Those weren't his exact words, but they were hidden within the things he said. I only wish you had told me sooner. Contrary to what Yoki might think, I do not expect anything physical from you. Your health is more important than anything. So, while you slept, I asked him for some advice. He told me you're to avoid anything too physical, and that you must make sure to eat well. Thankfully, there's a refugee camp about an hour away. If Cheng hasn't already emptied it, they may be willing to share some of their food with you. Though we have food enough for the three of us, I want to make sure you have at least one good meal in you. Is that okay with you?' Marcoh is a godsend. He's somehow come up with a way for Scar to understand you need extra care without giving too much away. At least now you have a few days to think of a way to tell Scar…

As much as you're dreading it.

Stretching your limbs, you bring a hand up to Scar's face, brushing it with the back of your hand before dropping it to your side. 'What did I do to deserve you?' It's a question you've never even asked yourself until now. So much has Scar focused on his own luck without realising it goes both ways. He may have a woman that will stand by him, but you've got a man who would do anything to protect you. Quite the pair you make…

You swear Scar is blushing, as he hides his face in your neck, alternating his works with a few soft kisses. 'You were persistent.' You tap him lightly on the shoulder, and he laughs before continuing. 'Never once have you lost faith in me. Even after I told you all the horrible things I've done, you still stood by my side. You were even willing to give your life to protect me. If these things weren't enough, you've also shown me time and time again what it means to be loved, and that makes you deserving of everything I could ever give you.' You swear you feel a tear drop onto your neck, but you don't mention it. You don't think you've ever seen him cry before; you don't want to spoil the moment by calling him out on it.

You hold him close, a few tears of your own spilling over. You want to tell him that he has done the same for you, but your words are stopped before they leave your mouth by another thought.

Voice barely a whisper, you utter a single word. 'Everything?' Scar pulls away, the evidence of that tear still on his face. His expression is unreadable as he turns the word over in his head, trying to find the meaning behind it. In truth, it shouldn't be too hard to him to figure out; you're clearly trying to ask for something. You're not expecting him to know what though…

Finally, an expression forms on his face; determination.

He leans in close, his face mere inches from yours. His voice is low and gravely, proof of his determination. 'Name it.' You're glad he figured you out. It would have been beyond awkward if he didn't catch on!

You tilt your chin up, trying to mirror his determination despite your trepidation. You even manage to sound confident, thought you're concerned his response will snatch it away. 'Marry me.'

Scar looks confused, and for good reason; he's already asked you that!

His words echo his expression. 'I have already made that promise to you.' At least he's not forgotten. You certainly haven't. You can remember verbatim what he said, and that's the reason for your bringing it up.

Placing your hand over the one still resting on your breastbone, you gaze softly into his eyes. 'You promised me you'd marry me after the war. I don't know if I can wait that long.' If Scar knew about the baby, he wouldn't want to wait either, but you don't want that to be the only reason he agrees to marry sooner, if he even would…

Scar furrows his brows in confusion. 'That isn't possible. I'm a criminal, I can't just walk in somewhere and book a wedding ceremony. Besides, the waiting list alone would be longer than the time we have. If there was a way, I'd marry you tomorrow, but it's not…' he thinks for a moment, his eyes becoming distant as thought takes over.

When he finally does think up whatever he was searching for, he looks far too pleased with himself. 'Does it have to be legal, or would a spiritual one be enough?' A spiritual one? You'd never actually thought… oh, but that would make sense.

It's just a shame that there's problems with that too, something you can't help but point out. 'Who would perform the ceremony? Don't me wrong, I like Marcoh and all, but he both already thinks we're married, and knows nothing of Ishvalan culture. I presume that you want a traditional ceremony?' You're not sure you've ever gone in for all that ceremony. Marriage is between two people ultimately, and getting yourself into massive debt just to throw some unbelievably lavish party just seems wrong, especially given the expectations that follow a wedding…

You need to get babies off your mind!

Again, Scar thinks, but this time the answer finds him swiftly. 'If he has not already fled, we could ask my former master. I cannot promise he would, especially given… I have broken many vows. A man in my position should have asked permission before even considering courtship. The fact that I skipped all of that in favour of bedding you will not work in our favour. If I had managed to maintain my self control, it would not have taken much to convince him to overlook the lack of permission. As it is, my actions that night, and almost every night subsequently, may have ruined that chance. I'm sorry.' He pushes himself away, his hand leaving your body.

You sit up just after, allowing the covers to pool around your waist. You sit forward slightly, trying to make the small bump on your abdomen less pronounced. The last thing you want is to argue over that when you're still in a debate with Scar…

A debate you fear you can't win, so you sigh heavily. 'That's okay. It was a stupid request. Besides, I imagine the last thing you want is to leave behind a widow, if your plan goes as badly as you seem to think it will.' You regret the words the moment they leave your mouth. You've become rather fatalistic of late, haven't you? Maybe it's the reality of this conflict finally setting in.

Scar brings a hand up to your face, cradling your cheek in his palm. 'It was the furthest thing from that. The only thing that would made me happier would be a world in which I wouldn't have to leave behind a widow.' You want to tell him that this could be that world, but you're tired of disagreeing with him today. You should probably just let it slide at start dressing.

Before you get the chance, Scar's hand falls from your face, and his eyes zero in on your exposed breasts, a confused expression on his face.

There's the slightest hint of embarrassment in his voice. 'Your breasts look different.' They do? You haven't noticed that yourself, but you don't make a habit of staring at them…

Oh shit. That's a pregnancy thing. Does Scar know that? What if he does? What if he figures it out?! What will he do if he does?! You still need time to explain it!

Not knowing what else to do, you try to play it off as nothing. 'They do? How so?' Please don't say they look like they're getting ready for breastfeeding…

Scar shifts in his seat as he gives you a single word answer. 'Larger.' His eyes are still on them, as if he's scrutinising them with great intensity. You need to find a way to distract him before he looks too closely.

Putting on an expression of mock offence, you pull the blanket up over yourself, hiding yourself from Scar's gaze.

Your voice is one of mock offence too. 'Do you honestly stare at my chest so often that the slightest change is obvious to you?' Even though you're not being serious, it's still a good question; how did Scar notice a change in breast size?

Once again, you're certain Scar is blushing, though to his credit, he does look you in the eyes when he answers this time. 'I have spent enough time with your body that every inch of it is familiar to me. I'm sorry if my observation disturbed you.' That's… kinda hot actually. Or it would be, if you weren't trying to hide certain changes from him…

As he seems to be taking you seriously, you do an obviously fake sigh, dramatically resting the back of your hand against your forehead. 'I am truly disturbed, Sir. But I'll forgive you because I love you.' Even if you were actually mad at him, you've forgiven him way worse than him taking his time to memorise your body.

You're also guilty of the same in fact, but he doesn't need to know that.

Scar smiles, a rare sight still, even to your eyes. 'I love which I return a thousand times over. That much I won't apologise for.' You'd be more concerned if he did start apologising for that. Since when has mutual love ever required an apology? Unless you're a serial killer convinced he's going to die… oh wait!

With the conversation drawing to a natural close, you playfully shoo Scar out of the tent so you can dress.

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After swiftly changing into the baggiest clothing you own, you walk towards Scar and Marcoh, the two men sitting by the remains of the fire and talking to each other.

Marcoh seems to be in good spirits. 'It's been nice to have a slow day today. I think it's a break we all needed.' You second that for sure.

Scar nods. 'We have journeyed far these last months. I only wish we didn't have so far left to go.'

Marcoh hums. 'Thats true. We still have much to do, and such a small amount of time to do it in. We'll do it though. We don't have the luxury of failing now, not when so much is at stake.' He's not wrong there. An entire country is a pretty high stakes indeed.

To your surprise, Scar nod along. 'Indeed. If we fail, then what remains of my people will be lost. Even if Cheng managed to convince some to leave, we cannot hope to rebuild with so few.' You'd never considered that. Are there even enough Ishvalans left right now? The remaining Ishvalans are so spread out it's impossible to know how many survivors are out there…

Marcoh tilts his head in confusion. 'That's what you want? To rebuild? Huh.'

Now it's Scar's turn to be confused. 'Is that really so surprising?'

A low chuckles leaves Marcoh's mouth. 'Well, you are wanted for murder. I'd always assumed destruction was your aim. Has something changed, perchance? Something to do with your wife?' You can't take total credit for Scar's change of heart, but you'd like to think you're part of the reason at least…

A smile appears on one side of Scar's mouth. 'I desire to rebuild for the simple reason that I'm now in a position to do so. Before I met her, I had no reason to want peace. I only had the desire to avenge my family, and to punish those Alchemists who had strayed from God's path. I realise now that I was just the same. I too had strayed. I let my anger consume me, and someday soon I shall pay the ultimate price for that. If I had only followed the example of my peers and endured…' he takes a deep breath. 'My life is different now. I will never see my family again, but now I have the opportunity to create my own. Or I would, were it not for my actions. I will never have the chance to start anew. I will never have a home of my own, and I'll never get to hold my children or grow old with my wife. All the things I never knew I wanted are now lost to me forever. So yes. I have changed. If it is for the best remains to be seen.' Now would be a good time for you to make your entrance official…

You walk over to Scar, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'If it makes you feel better, I think it's for the best.' Scar's hand joins yours on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

After a moment, Scar stands, and turns to address you. 'I'm going to pack away our things. We can leave once you've eaten.' He gestures for you to sit in his now vacant seat, an order you follow with ease.

As Scar walks away, Marcoh hands you a bowl of food, leaning in so he can whisper to you. 'I take it you haven't told Scar yet?' Is he going to keep on your case until you do? You hope not, as that's going to be a real pain… and put pressure on you.

You shake your head. 'Not yet. I need to wait until I've got my own head around the idea before I tell Scar.' You're not sure you'll ever get your head around it, but you'll try. You'll have to, after all; ignoring the situation won't change it.

Marcoh's mood seems to deflate a little. 'Oh. I suppose that's fair enough. I'll try to stop myself asking.' He looks guilty for some reason. You're not sure why; he was only asking you a question.

Trying not to make him feel worse, you shake your head. 'It's fine, Marcoh. I know you're just concerned about me. Thank you for telling Scar to make things easier on me. I'm not sure if I could have thought of a suitable excuse.' You could have tried the whole 'I have a headache line, but Scar is a bit too observant for that. We'll either that or you could have been honest and actually told him you were too tired, but that would be too easy apparently.

Marcoh's mood seems to brighten back up. 'There's nothing to thank me for; I don't want anything bad to happen to either of you. I would advice telling Scar as soon as you can though. You heard what he told me a moment ago. He may not live to hold his child, but at least he'll know that he had the life he wanted, only if for a moment.' He's right on one count. However…

You shake your head. 'Or it will destroy him. He'll get the chance to hold his dream in his hands, only for it to be snatched away from him. His final moments will be spent watching everything he wants being torn away from him. I don't know if I could do that to him. It seems like the ultimate act of cruelty.' You have to stop yourself crying, lest Scar ask why. You'd hate for him to think Marcoh had upset you in some way; their relationship is fragile enough already.

Marcoh sighs heavily. 'I suppose you know better than I. You should do what you think. All I ask is that you take my opinion into account when you make that choice, because goodness knows if I was in Scar's position, knowing that there was something better waiting for me would be the difference between surrendering to the inevitable, and fighting just that little bit harder.' It's only been a day, and he's still pilling in pressure? You're beginning to doubt if he will be able to keep quiet…

Swallowing a bite of your breakfast, you nod solemnly before answering. 'I promise I'll tell him when the time is right, but can we just leave it for now? We have much bigger problems. If we can't put Scar's plan into action, then neither me nor the tiny human inside me will even be alive to worry about. We need to find someone who can tattoo the other design into Scar's arm quickly. If we don't find one soon, the tattoo will be scabbed and unusable.' How long would a tattoo like that take to heal? Is there a way to avoid scabbing altogether? Your only real knowledge of it is that someone in the East City camp got a tattoo of a bird from a less than qualified friend; it had taken weeks for the scabs to settle, and even longer for him to fully recover from the septicaemia caused by said friend's questionably hygienic set up. Hopefully the person you find to tattoo Scar doesn't reuse their needles like an idiot…

On this much at least, Marcoh seems to agree with you. 'True enough. Hopefully there'll be someone in the refugee camp nearby. Scar did tell you about that, didn't he?' You nod. 'Good. If the people are still there, it'll give us the chance to rest and evaluate our situation properly. We'll need to plan our movements carefully from now on to avoid wasting time. In truth, I'm glad it's just the three of us now; at least the three of us can move faster than a group of six.' Six? Oh, little Xiao-Mei. How could you forget? How is Mei doing right now? Is she back in Xing? Such an immense journey for such a young child, and with such a burden. You hope one day you get to see her again, if only to know that she's safe.

You hurriedly finish your breakfast after that.

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As Scar packs away the tents, for once his mind doesn't directly drift towards the woman sat a few metres away. No, it has drifted to their destination, the nearby refuge camp, and what he might find there.

In truth, there is a part of him that hopes it is empty. As much as they could do with the rest, he hates the thought of so many Ishvalans being drawn into another conflict. No one is safe in this country, especially not them. If the homunculi or the Promised Day don't kill them, then there's always a chance the military or that monster Kimblee will. It's one of the reasons he didn't suggest that his fiancée remain in the Northern Camp; at least in Liore she could blend in with all the others who had lost everything.

His thoughts could go back to thinking of her, but he redirects them, thinking back on their earlier conversation about his former master. As much as Scar hates to hope, he can't help but do so when it comes to him. He hopes that he'll get to see his former master one more time before he goes, even if it's a selfish wish. With any luck, said former master is half way to Xing now, on his way to safety. Still, despite Scar's insistence that the man would disprove of his impromptu courtship with 'the woman from the healer's tent', he knows deep down that he'd be happy for him. He may have lost his way as a monk long ago, but now he is slowly regaining his way as a man, no small feet when you've a past like his.

Scar sighs contentedly, his eyes drifting over his travelling companions. It would be no exaggeration to say that one of them seems to be growing more beautiful with each passing day, and he's not referring to Marcoh. Marcoh is however leaning uncomfortably close to the one that is…

It occurs to Scar that they must be discussing her health, despite the fact that she already knows he has spoken to Marcoh about it. Perhaps she simply wishes to thank him? Or perhaps he's questioning her on Scar's treatment of her?

Or maybe he's not told him the truth?

He shouldn't listen in. He knows he shouldn't. But fear takes hold of his common sense. What if she is terminally ill, and hiding it from him to spare him the heartbreak? If she'll outlive him despite her condition, maybe that's exactly what she's planning. She is definitely the type to suffer in silence while she helps carry his own burdens.

Focusing his ears as best he can, Scar manages to catch a single snippet of the conversation.

'I promise I'll tell him when the time is right, but can we just leave it for now?'

He knew it.

There is something else wrong with her.

Scar has to fight the urge to fall to his knees in grief. God would truly take away the only good thing in his life? She would hide her failing health to spare him the pain? If this is true, then what is he fighting for? The lives of the people who butchered his race? Why bother? Why not take all of the Ishvalans away and let Amestris die, let them suffer as he has suffered? It's a cruel though, but who cares? It is no crueler than the thought of losing the only person in his life worth fighting for anymore.

'Yes it is,' his heart tells him 'because ultimately, she is one person. No one life is worth more than any other, not really. She may be worth everything to you, but there are people out there who feel the same about their partners, about their families. You would let them suffer your pain too? What about all the children out there? They did not fight that war. They are strangers to this world, and ignorant of its failings. You would let them die out of spite?' A few months ago, the answer to that would have been a categorical yes. Yes, letting them die out spite is better than them living thanks to some false sense of pity. He is no longer that man; he has seen too much to be that man anymore.

His brain chips in this time, for once more or less in agreement with his heart. 'You have to go through with the plan no matter what. Besides, you're assuming the worst. There are other health concerns she could be hiding. How long has it been since that first night in the North? Three months or so? You did wish that God would give her someone else to live for…' Oh.

Oh.

She's pregnant?!

Rushing to that conclusion seems just as bad as rushing to the other, but it's a much better though. A world without her would be a terrible one, but a world where she's carrying their child…

He's failed her. He's failed to give her the only kindness he could. What life will she have now? What man would take in a serial killer's widow and unborn child? What kind of life will the child have, always having it's father's crimes hanging around it's neck? The two of them will have nobody but each other when he's gone. If leaving behind a widow is terrible, then leaving behind a fledgling family is worse.

What evidence does he have though? She may be tired, but she's not actually been sick or anything. What other signs are there?

He takes a quick glance at her stomach. It doesn't look swollen, but her clothing is hanging off of her so much he can't make out her shape at all, so that's a bust.

Oh, bust! Her breasts are bigger! Is that a thing? He's never thought to study female biology, as he never thought he'd need to. Are they getting ready to feed the baby? It seems like it could be a thing. Maybe he could ask the women at the next camp…

Stop! His mind is moving far too quickly. He's gone from thinking she's dying to thinking she's pregnant in the space of a few moments. He should just ask her, be upfront with her. She's always been honest with him in the past. If he only asked…

No. He won't ask. He can't. If he asks, and it turns out she is dying… he doesn't want to know. As selfish as it is, he can't bring himself to know that. Instead, he's going to assume that his other thought is correct, and treat her as if she's pregnant. What does he have to lose? Either way, he'll need to treat her with tenderness and care. And if she should never tell him, and he should go to his death never hearing those words, then maybe he'll have strength enough in him to keep on fighting. If he assumes that there's more than one person waiting for him, he might even survive…

If he knows he has a family that needs him, he may even find a way to be with them.

Well, there's little point thinking about it at the moment. As his love has already pointed out, there is a bigger concern right now; making it to the camp is the priority now. Would she get suspicious if he carried her there? He could try to gage if she's gained weight over the last few months. Or, again, he could just ask her…

He's not going to have this same argument again. For now, waiting is the only real option he has.

He can only hope the truth is worth the wait.