Here's the epilogue for you guys. I really hope you enjoyed the story, even though some of the chapters were a bit short. If you have any ideas for another story, feel free to add them in your comments. Maybe I'll dedicate one to you.
Many wishes of happiness and blah blah blah.
~ Amelia-Maria
P.S.= Feel free to shout out any clues you see relating to the judge's comment on finding evidence of Mustang's soul's existence. That should be a big enough clue.
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.
"Look, Alphonse!"
Elysia held up her notebook proudly, showing the younger brother Elric her picture. A trio of poorly scribbled blobs were lined up across the center of the page with a few scratches of black over their heads. If he squinted hard enough, Alphonse could see that she had attempted to write out their names with large crayon.
"It's great, Elysia," Alphonse said, smiling kindly and accepting the picture as she tore it out of the notebook to hand to him. A small snort of laughter coming from Alphose's side made Elysia's face redden.
"S'not a bad picture!" she screeched at Edward, planting her hands on her hips. Alphonse shook his head.
"It's a very good picture, Elysia. Thank you."
The Elric brothers were - more or less - reclining against the backboard of Elysia's frilly pink bed, though Edward was more along the lines of laying down. The little blonde girl was keeping them captive for the evening, completely intent on drawing them a whole notebook full of pictures. Elysia really did have some talent in drawing, but every once in a while, she would come up with something that reminded the older Elric of a puddle of colorful vomit.
"Big brother Elric is mean!" Elysia exclaimed, dropping her crayon on the floor and climbing up onto the bed so that she could pounce on Edward. The blonde male laughed and caught her easily, tossing her onto Alphonse's lap.
"I'm not mean!" he protested playfully, "Alphonse laughed, too!"
"I did not!"
I could've watched those kids for hours. They always left me laughing, and I needed a good laugh, especially after the court case last week. I had spent the last few nights at Hughes's grave, laying against the stone and even curling up against it as I tried to forget the Gate and everything else Edward had explained to the judge. People never really think about it, but lost souls and ghosts have nightmares. I couldn't sleep, but that didn't mean I couldn't dream either.
I watched as the three of them began a tickling fight, the result being Alphonse and Elysia teaming up against Edward. It was entertaining to watch Edward scream like a kicked cat, thrashing around on the floor with Elysia sitting on his stomach. For a few moments, I almost wanted to join in... perhaps initiate a wrestling match. I frowned at my thoughts. I wasn't their father. Neither of the boys would take kindly to such a physical form of affection from anyone, much less myself.
...
It was late now. After a good hour and a half more of continuous tickling and drawing, Edward and Alphonse carried Elysia back to her bed, then sat on the floor to begin picking up the crayons. That was when I got an idea. My eyes went straight to a lime-green crayon lying on a piece of forgotten paper.
It was pissing me off, though. Of course I couldn't pick up the damn thing, but couldn't I at least kick it? I swung my foot forward again and gave the air around the crayon a good swipe, but the only thing that happened was the crayon jerked forward an inch, leaving a bright green stripe in its wake. It was pissing... me... off. I couldn't write anything like this.
"You know," a voice said from behind me, and I felt a cool hand on my shoulder, "You could just ask for help."
I looked over my shoulder at Hughes in surprise. I forgot that he could go anywhere he wanted.
"You couldn't have come at a better time, Hughes." I grinned and gestured at my previous task. "I need you to write something for me."
"I missed a crayon," Alphonse announced, glancing over at the lime-green crayon in the corner that was lying neatly on top of a piece of paper. The brown-haired teen bounded over to it and picked up the materials, slipping the crayon into the box as his eyes wandered over the paper. They widened considerably. "Brother? You're going to want to see this," he called quietly, but a grin had broken out on his face.
Edward tucked the last of the pictures into Elysia's notebook and laid it on her bed before he went to Alphonse's side. "What is it?" His eyes scanned the paper, "What? This isn't Elysia's handwriting."
"It's Hughes', but he wouldn't say this," Alphonse stated, still grinning as he re-read the paper.
"Maybe it's an old note," Edward mused. Alphonse nudged him.
"I don't think this is something Hughes would say to Elysia. It sounds like..." Alphonse took the moment to chuckle, "Like something a certain someone would say to you."
'By the way, my idea wasn't stupid.'
Edward could only laugh softly. "That idiot Colonel."
The End.