Aha! It is finally done! Yay! Sorry for the long (well, long for me) wait-- I feel terrible about it, but what can you do? I have three other things I need to do so updates will be slow for a while. Plus surgery in a week. Yuck.

Disclaimer: Do not own FMA. Or Alaska. Or Ford (my family does own a Ford F150, though). Or The Wizard of Oz. Or practically anything else you see in here. However, I do own the house. Well, my parents do. Whatever.

WARNING: bromance

Two

The Yellow House

Envy followed Leath out across the pick-up area and into a small parking lot on the other side. It was full of cars, most of which seemed impossibly dirty. Clumps of people stood around them, chattering in German or English, apparently overjoyed at these reunions. Envy felt like someone bound for a funeral that accidentally ended up attending a wedding.

Leath had to fight against the magenta suitcase only three times before they reached a white pickup truck. He unlocked it with the set of keys he'd pulled from his pocket and pulled open the passenger-side door. Envy could see that the only door to get into the back set of seats locked in under the larger portal, with the handle on the side of the smaller door (1). Leath grabbed the latch and pulled it open, hefting the evil suitcase into the backseat. He turned around and grabbed the second one before Envy could protest.

"Your backpack can go on here, too," Leath grunted, shoving hard against the black-and-red bag to make it go farther in—the magenta one had wedged itself and was, once again, proving itself to be quite difficult. Leath gave up with a groan and walked around to the other side. Envy tossed his backpack in on top of his luggage and shut that door before clambering into the passenger seat.

Leath hopped in the driver's side and slammed his door. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned on the car before swiveling to put on his seat belt. Envy copied him.

"So," Leath said, pulling out of the parking space. "How's your mom doing?"

Envy blinked at him. "Well… she's in jail."

"Right, right," the man said distractedly. "Of course. Er, how long have you lived in the UK?"

"My whole life." Envy looked out the window, intrigued at the strange city laid out before him. It was long, low, and flat—he could see a few taller buildings in the distance, but that was about it. The gray clouds chopped the mountains in half, and it wasn't nearly as green as his home. Plus, the air felt so much lighter—not nearly as humid.

"That would explain the accent, then," Leath murmured, not looking at him, either.

"What? Oh… right." He had to remind himself that, British accent or no, he didn't have to learn Italian, like Wrath did. At least they spoke the mother tongue here, even if they couldn't spell it right.

"Okay, here's what's going on," Leath said suddenly, and much more seriously. Evidently he was done with the pointless small talk. Envy looked over at him, wary and starting to get a little frightened once more. "Both Euan and Moibeal—the kids—are over at friends' houses until tomorrow morning. Rachel is at home. We all thought it would be better for you two to work something out before we throw Euan and Bea into the mix."

Envy nodded. It seemed sensible enough, and at this rate he wouldn't even have to face his half-siblings. Maybe death wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

The truck pulled past a minivan and out onto a road with two lanes on either side. Envy bit his lip slightly, imagining the somewhat larger highways back home.

He couldn't help thinking that the whole place was kind of grey. It almost seemed custom-built to nudge along people who were already depressed. Of course, some of it was the light, but it was nothing like England, and Envy already knew which one he preferred. This place was just too weird, too foreign. He'd gone to New York City once with a few of his siblings, but that was nothing like here. Here was like living out in the wilderness in the middle of a city. It was just… weird.

And the drivers sucked. They all seemed to go a steady sixty on a seventy-mile-an-hour road. In a straight line. It was completely impossible to pass anyone.

People were walking around on the sidewalks, talking and laughing. At least none of them seemed too weird, even if they dressed awfully casually and a lot of the guys had pants sagging down to their knees. That part was a bit much, especially because none of them were Envy's type. But the girls were pretty, a fact that he was more than usually willing to appreciate. Relationships weren't really his forte.

"So… um…." Envy fished desperately for a conversation topic. "What are, um, your kids like?"

Leath looked surprised. "Bea and Euan?"

"Er—yeah. Your other kids. Not me. I know what I'm like." Envy laughed nervously. "Duh." He was babbling, but he couldn't stop. He was even blushing a little. Damn it.

"Well, yes." Leath cleared his throat, keeping his eyes fixed on the road (which was, you know, a good thing). "Euan likes to play soccer. A lot."

"Soccer?" Envy repeated blankly, before he remembered. "Oh! Right. Football. Football's good." Actually, football was one of the—okay, the only sport Envy enjoyed. Soccer. They call it soccer here. Weirdos.

"Yeah, he's on the team," Leath said uncomfortably. "They have a season now and at the end of the year. You know, because of winter and everything."

"Right."

"And Bea…" Leath took a deep breath and plunged on. "Bea likes volleyball and basketball. She does those a lot. When, um, the volleyball and basketball seasons are going on, that is. Obviously."

"Yep." Envy went back to looking out the window. The silence was awkward, but not nearly as awkward as the actual conversations.

They were on what Leath called the "Glenn Highway," which had upgraded to three lanes rather than just two. It stretched out towards the mountains, and it didn't take long for them to speed out of sight of the last bits of city and rocket down the road. Trees surrounded it on both sides—tall, spindly, looking distinctly sickly. Now that he was looking, Envy noticed a strange, metal fence holding the trees back. Every few hundred yards or so, a bizarre sort of opening appeared, with metal rods sticking out the sides of the gate.

"What is that?" Envy asked, pointing as they sped by another one.

Leath didn't even have to look. "It's a fence to keep the moose from wandering onto the road and getting hit."

"Oh." He stopped pointing. Suddenly, that line from Wrath's favorite movie had never seemed so appropriate: "Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore." Envy had always wanted to say something derogatory there, but Wrath (with Sloth's help) had consistently shut him up. Now, though, he had to bite his tongue to keep the stupid line from flying out of his own mouth, not just that airhead Dorothy's.

They trundled on down the highway, passed a factory that had cones that reminded Envy of a nuclear power plant, and then a truck weighing station. After that, Leath started to hug the rightmost lane, heading towards a sign that said HIGHLAND DRIVE and then beneath it ANCHORAGE LANDFILL. Oh, goodie.

Envy felt his heart rate leap with the nervousness, and he clenched his fingers so tightly into a fist that his knuckles went white—well, even whiter than before. He took deep, calming breaths to keep himself from hyperventilating. He had to savor his life while he still had it.

Leath took the turn-off and went down towards the four-way intersection. He pulled off into the turn lane and put on his blinkers, heading down a road entitled Yosemite.

"Your school is just up here on the right," he said, jerking his head out Envy's window. "You'll see it in a second."

Envy, grateful to have something to do, looked out. They passed a thicket of trees, and he blinked in astonishment.

The school was actually rather small—only two stories—with what looked to be a gymnasium on the right side and a wing of classrooms on the left. It was made of slate- and jet-colored bricks, with the smooth parts on top painted yellow and orange. It was, in fact, a very pretty school, and doubtlessly had a stunning view once the clouds let up.

They were past it before he could blink and pulling to a stop at a T intersection. A sign by Envy's window proclaimed this to be EAGLE POINTE. The superfluous "E" at the end of "Point" irked him, but it was in metal so there was nothing he could do about it.

Leath turned right, narrowly missed an old lady walking her Chihuahua, and turned right again almost immediately. Envy looked around him in interest. The houses here were much larger as a whole than in England.

They went up a long, curving hill, passed an empty lot with a tipped-over FOR SALE sign, and stopped at another T intersection, where Acadia merged with Lassen. Leath turned right again, passed another pair of empty lots, both covered with a tangle of trees and dirt, and into a small cul-de-sac. He didn't go for the one-story key-lime-pie-green house on the left, to Envy's enormous relief, but instead pulled up into the driveway of the pale yellow house on top of the hill. Envy blinked at it. It had blue trim. And a deck in the front yard.

Leath stopped the engine. "Well, here we are," he said unnecessarily. He opened his door and hopped out, leaving Envy to wrestle with his buckle with his now-numb hands and almost fall out himself. Leath steadied him automatically and opened up the back door to grab the suitcases. Envy rescued his backpack but wasn't able to retrieve either of his bags. Leath wouldn't let him.

And so, resigned, he trailed after his newfound father, up the wooden steps, onto the small porch thing, and waited while Leath dredged up the key to unlock the door. It eased open with nary a creak, letting them into a light, spacious entryway. Leath shoved the suitcases inside (struggling a bit with the magenta one), while Envy looked around him, plight temporarily forgotten.

The ceiling was a ways above his head, the chrome chandelier dangling down. The spiral staircase vanished beyond the edge of the ceiling. It was made of some kind of light, attractive wood. The carpet looked clean and thick—probably springy. A few fake plants sat in the corners. A movement out of the corner of his eye caused Envy to look around wildly, fear returning with a jolt.

A cat stared back.

It was small, short for a cat, with little legs and a small head. Its tummy was too large for it and reminded Envy of Wrath's plushie toys. Most of its belly and legs was white, but splotches of orange, grey, and black decorated the rest of its body. Its eyes glittered, bright and green. It looked very soft. Envy smiled tentatively at it—something he'd always done, ever since he was little. He liked thinking that the animals could understand.

The cat twitched.

Envy stared at it in shock. He could have sworn that he had just seen a small spasm of the head, an eye convulsing slightly. But that couldn't be right—cats didn't twitch.

And then its whole head rolled, like in that exorcist movie. Envy could only gape in complete astonishment as its head thrashed back and forth at a rate that made him faintly dizzy, before doubling up on itself and speeding away like a bullet. Ba-dun, ba-dun, ba-dun went its little paws on the floor. Envy forced his mouth to close.

"Oh, that's Tibby," Leath told him with a small smile, seeing the expression on his face. "She's our cat."

"Huh," Envy said faintly.

Leath rolled the suitcases to the base of the stairs and set them there. He ignored the magenta one when it fell over and beckoned Envy after him, down a strangely L-shaped hallway. Envy swallowed nervously and followed.

The hardwood ended in slate-colored tiles; Leath walked along them like he was a man headed to the gallows. Envy came after with much the same air, into a spacious kitchen. The living room on the left became the immediate source of attention—or, rather, the woman sitting on the couch did.

She still looked well for a woman of forty-seven, Envy thought dazedly. Her fawn-brown hair had been tied up at the nape of her neck in a sleek bun. Her eyes—bright and, at the same time, a deep brown—alternated between her husband and his bastard child. Envy felt like crawling into a ditch and dying there. A splotch of white in the corner of the room diverted his attention for a second, and he spotted the cat. Tibby stared at him, her tail thrashing, green eyes completely swallowed up by pupil. He gulped and looked away.

"Leath, maybe you should go outside for a while?" Rachel MacDougal suggested quietly. Her voice was just like her—soft, seemingly gentle, but with an undeniable undercurrent of power. Envy wondered if she'd stab him with a kitchen knife or suffocate him with the pillow. She could do both, he knew.

Leath ducked his head and left hastily. Envy twisted his hands in front of him and looked down at the tiles.

"Come here," she ordered, still softly. Envy obeyed silently, sparing only a glance for the homicidal cat on his way over. Rachel patted the space on the couch next to her, and he took it. It felt even more awkward here than across the room.

He could feel her eyes on him, and though he was too afraid to meet them, they made the back of his neck prickle. "You're Envy." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, ma'am," he forced himself to murmur. At least his words were discernable.

"I suppose that your mother really isn't all that smart," she said, her voice tinged with amusement. Envy forced a sort of chuckle. It came out breathless and higher than usual.

"She's not," he agreed, fighting down his hysteria. This woman had every right to be angry with him.

"I'm not mad at you," Rachel told him quietly, and the words caught him off guard enough that he looked up at her, eyes wide. She smiled slightly. "At least, I'll try not to be. It's not your fault. You didn't make my husband and your mother do anything."

Envy could only stare at her, so shocked that he couldn't respond. He had never expected those words from her. A flutter of hope stirred in his chest. So he wasn't going to die?

"Of course, I can't promise that my children will extend the same courtesy," she went on, very seriously. "I will expect them to at least try not to be too vicious, but their father betrayed them."

Finally, he was free to look away, his eyes seeking out the carpet. He rubbed the back of his head. "No. I understand."

"Good. As for you and me, I'll try not to treat you differently than my own children. I'll go easy on you for now, until you learn the rules. And please, don't hesitate to tell me if I'm being unfair." She smiled at him. "All right?"

Envy doubted he'd ever have the courage to, but he nodded anyway.

Rachel sighed once more and got to her feet. "Come along, I'll show you to your room."

Envy scrambled up to follow her—there was a blur of white—and something was suddenly attached to his leg, little teeth digging into his jeans, claws poking through to his skin. Envy yelped in surprise, but the cat didn't let up from its savaging of his limb.

"Ah, I see you've met Tibby the Terrible." Rachel chuckled and leaned down, easily prying the cat off. She cradled the thing in her arms, and it licked its lips, ears flattened, glaring at Envy. He took a step back. "We call her The Beast, or just Beast, most of the time. She's evil. Here."

And without any warning whatsoever, she dumped the cat into his arms and walked off, gesturing for him to follow. Envy came, desperately trying to get the cat to stop biting his shoulder. It hurt!

"All of our rooms are up here," Rachel called down the steps. "Yours is what used to be the guest bedroom, the first room on the left."

"Okay." It looked like she needed some sort of response. He finally managed to pry The Beast's claws and teeth from his shirt and held onto her tightly. Envy couldn't let her get at him again.

He arrived at the top to another slash of hardwood. Rachel had disappeared into what was apparently going to be his room. He wandered on in.

It was small, but he was used to that—a bed pushed up in the middle of the back wall, a small bookcase beside it. A dresser sat on the right wall and a desk directly to his right. The rest of the place was bare—they were giving him room to express himself, which Envy was extremely grateful for, but it made the room seem cold. Un-lived in.

He was glad, though, for the opportunity to drop Tibby on the plain white comforter. The cat looked him over, seemed to change her mind, twitched, and then curled up to take a nap.

"So… yes, I think that's it for now." Rachel turned back to him. "Bea and Euan won't be back until tomorrow, around noon, so you have peace and quiet until then. Jet lag is awful, but it's not so bad in this direction as the other way around. You'll be fine." She headed out the door. "I'll get Leath to bring your things up!" she called back over her shoulder, and then Rachel was gone.

Envy suddenly didn't know what to do. All of that worry had been for nothing. He walked over and sat gingerly on the same bed as The Beast. She didn't even look at him. He carefully reached out a hand and petted her. Tibby really was very soft, and this time she didn't try to attack him.

(1) I really tried to find a better way to explain this, I really did. It's just like our truck. There's only one mini-door that leads to the back seats, and it sticks in behind the big passenger side one so you have to open that one to get to it and close the mini one before you can close the big one. And that still doesn't make sense. Try looking it up if you're still confused (which you probably are).

Tibby is my cat. She wormed her way in. I'm truly sorry for any psychological damage she may have caused. Beastie iz evil like dat.

Anyhoo, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I would be so grateful if you'd do so again and tell me what you liked, didn't like, hated, found confuzzling, etc. Thank you!