Author's Note:

I didn't think anyone would actually be interested in this story when I first started writing, so I'm beyond grateful to everyone who reads this! Thank you so much!

Oh, and I have absolutely no clue as to what Skyla's alchemist name should be…all of my ideas have been too girly :p

Any and all suggestions are greatly appreciated =]

Love,

AL

The latter half of the day was by far more interesting than the morning had been. The slowly modernizing village of Resembol had recently installed a clinic in their town square and although it was no state-of-the-art facility, it was resourceful all the same.

"Look, it's really him."

I sat in the quaint waiting room, glancing out the window. Alina was munching on something sweet, sitting on a bench outside. The nurses refused to let the dog inside despite her pleading, so she was more the eager to take up Cora's offer and sit outside with her and the baby. It was a nice evening with the warm air growing slightly humid as the sun made its descent behind the rolling grass hills.

"That can't be Edward Elric, is it?"

"I swear he's here! The Hero of the People…"

My father had been the talk of the town since and after I had gotten over the shock of his sudden arrival an estranged curiosity took hold of me. The Hero of the People? The way others spoke of him made him sound like some kind…

"God, what's taking so long?"

I glanced to my left, "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" The boy looked startled, as if he hadn't realized that the only other chair in the tiny waiting room was occupied. "Oh, er, excuse me; I didn't know you were there."

"It's not a problem." I smiled, relieved to turn my mind to something other than the thought of my father's broken ribs and bleeding organs. "Sorry, again, it's just that they started the operation around two-already it's been five hours."

"I'm no expert, but I think surgeries tend to be a long time." I bit my lip, giving him a slight shrug when he turned to shoot me a 'that's not the point' look. He didn't look too young-he had the lean, gawky build of a teenager with the short, cropped haircut of a school boy. Pale freckles dotted his tanned face, which seemed to make his auburn hair glow under the fluorescent lights.

His long fingers tapped anxiously against the arm of the chair, "Resetting a broken leg does not take five hours."

I snuck a brief glance outside to check on Alina before turning back to his worried green eyes, "A broken leg? Well if the bone shattered then there's more work to be done than just resetting it, I don't mean to worry you…either way it's fairly simple. I'm sure they are just trying to give him the best care possible despite how long it may take."

He began tapping his foot and it was clear to me that my sub-par reassurance skills weren't going to cut it this time. He shook his head, "Some new patient came in half an hour after my dad, I guess he's special or something. All the nurses are making a big fuss. There's only one doctor who runs the place and he's spending all of his time with this stupid hot-shot. Don't they know that we got here first?"

His voice had been so loud that it carried itself down the hall, drawing the attention of pretty much everyone in the building. "Skyla," Mustang cleared his throat and I glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, "that stupid hot-shot of yours just got out of surgery."

He beckoned me with a nod of his head and I stood up, sympathetic of the boy sitting in the chair. His pale eyes grew wide, his mouth agape in the shape a small 'O'.

"Is he awake?"

"No," Mustang shook his head and for the first time I noticed the fine scratches that riddled his face, "but it's getting late. We called Winry and explained what had happened-"

"Did you tell her about…?" I titled my head in the direction of my father's room and the General shook his head once more, "No. I told her about the earth quake and that we'd be staying overnight-"

I folded my arms across my chest, "we can't keep Alina here until morning-the Inn was destroyed and a medical facility isn't exactly the best place to sleep."

"Calm down, will you? The woman you met in the store, she lives a little ways down the road-about ten minutes by foot. She was nice enough to let us stay the night."

I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted, as always, "I arranged it earlier, you were too busy verbally assaulting the nurses."

I narrowed my eyes, "when was this?"

"When they were disinfecting your shoulder."

"I heard that-you were vicious," Riza teased, a small smile on her face as she approached us. "It stung," I replied, fighting back a smile despite my defensive tone. Riza had a few nasty-looking bruises about her as well whereas my only real flesh wound had nothing to do with the earth quake. The stitches in my shoulder had burst open when I fell to the ground, but it turns out they were ready to be removed anyway.

An eerie silence fell upon us as we stood in the hall. "He's really back..." Riza's voice was quiet and all eyes turned to her. "Yeah," Mustang replied, sounding as if he too was in a state of disbelief, "He is."

I was quick to get over the initial shock of my father's return-it had been a little under two years since I'd last seen his face, but somewhere deep inside I'd always known that we wouldn't be apart for long. But for them…for this world…he'd been gone for so long, almost two decades. I couldn't even begin to imagine how they felt.

A guttural, coughing noise was made and the three of us turned to see the boy from the waiting room nervously standing before us. "I'm, er, sorry about what I, uh said…I had no idea you…"

"It's fine, really," I smiled, dismissing it with a casual flick of my hand.

"I guess his leg was shattered so they're going to keep him over night to watch his progress…a nurse just told me so…"

Mustang slipped his hands into his coat pocket, "it's getting late, we shouldn't keep Cora waiting."

"Oh, about that…I'm not going."

He raised his eyebrows, "No?"

I shook my head, "No. I want to stay here in case he wakes up... or not, either way…"

Mustang opened his mouth to warn against my choice but was stopped by Riza, who gently placed a warming hand on his fore arm. "We'll come back first thing in the morning; will you be alright by yourself?"

"I've got company," I smiled, glancing at the boy who had been excluded from the new conversation. Being brought back into the swing of things, he replied in awkward, choppy sentences, "Yes, I'll, er, be here for um, for a while so..."

The two of them watched, amused, as the words stumbled from his mouth. "This is her number; make sure to call us if anything happens." I grabbed the slip of paper from Riza and nodded, "Of course."

"My name is um…Caleb."

"I'm Skyla," I replied, watching Roy and Riza join Alina and Cora outside.

He fidgeted beside me, "so that man who came in earlier is…?"

"My father," I smiled, politely turning to him, "and speaking of father's, why don't we go see yours?"

Despite his immediate surprise, he gave me a slight nod and led me into the nearest room on the left. "Pa? How are you feeling?"

I peered into the room curiously. "Better, much better!" a stout but lean man was smiling, his cheeks flushed bright red.

"Oh, and who is this?" his voice was so jolly and upbeat that it was hard not to smile.

"Right, um, Pa this is Skyla…Skyla this is my father."

"It's, ah, nice to meet you," I smiled as he shook my hand-his palms rough with calluses. "Likewise!" He grinned.

"You a friend of Caleb's? I sure hope so; it'll do this boy some good to take his mind off of the farm work for once."

Caleb shifted, looking fairly flustered, "if I hadn't taken my mind off of the farm work then you wouldn't have had to fix that tractor by yourself! I could have prevented this!"

"This thing?" he glanced at the navy blue cast that enveloped a good portion of his leg, "Nah! This would have happened one way or the other. Don't you go blaming yourself-Oh! Did you here? This place is famous! They've got the Hero of the People in the other room! That kid just up and disappeared and now he's here, in that very room!"

My heart lurched as he said this and Caleb glanced my way.

"The Hero of the People?" his son repeated before turning to me, "the man in that room…isn't he your father?"

"You're that girl!" we all turned to see a nurse, clad in pink, standing in the doorway.

"Eh?" I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

Caleb's dad managed to pick his jaw up off of the floor, his eyes still wide with surprise. "I overheard the Flame Alchemist talk about you-Edward Elric's daughter!"

"Umm, yeah," I bit my lip uneasily.

"Well I'll be damned," Caleb's father muttered while his son stood there just as confused as I was. "What? What's so special about this guy?"

I glanced at the nurse, who looked almost appalled by his last statement, "Edward Elric? The Fullmetal Alchemist?"

"The what?" I blurted out, suddenly embarrassed as I realized how loud I'd asked this. "Oh, dear, you don't know? He's your own father too…" she shook her head with a 'tut-tut'.

"The Fullmetal Alchemist was a legend-traveled around with his kid brother, big guy in a suit of armor. They say he was really looking for the philosopher's stone but that boy was inspiration to a lot of people out east, made quite a name for himself."

"Really?" Caleb asked both perplexed and in awe as he sat down in the closest chair.

The nurse nodded enthusiastically, "him and his brother once saved this town Fr…"

I smiled and patiently listened as they told their stories, stories which never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined my father and uncle would star in. Their faces were aglow with excitement as they told the tales of the Elric brothers' heroic ventures and amazing feats. It was then that I realized how deeply my father and uncle were rooted to this world.

After listening to Benedict and nurses marvel over my family's great past I shuffled back to my father's room, my eyes heavy with sleep. The solid oak door clicked quietly shut behind me and I sat down beside my father's bed, studying the man I thought I once knew.

"Who are you?" I murmured, relaying the stories of his epic quest to reclaim what they had lost.

He didn't even flinch but rather continued to lie peacefully on his back, his chest rising and falling in time with the beeping of the monitor on the opposite side of his bed. Sprawled out on the floor with my back against the wall, I rested my head on the corner of his pillow. He head was fairly close to mine and I could see the muscles of his face twitch with every breath. He reeked of blood and sweat and metal, but somehow it was nice, familiar, even.

I looked up at the ceiling; its pristine white paint job was stained with shadows. The only light source in the room came from a small lamp in the corner, its flickering bulb days away from dying out. My father made a quiet noise, some kind of utterance in his sleep.

"Normal patients usually don't wake up from this procedure for at least twenty-four hours." The doctor had said.

"Stop being silly," I told myself, "he's got a good twelve hours to go…"

My father's eyelids fluttered lightly and I lifted my head from the pillow, still muttering to myself, "then again, he's not a normal patient."

The distance between the monitor's beeps became shorter as his shallow breath began to quicken.

"Dad?" I whispered, my hand frozen in mid-air, as if this moment would disappear if I dared to touch him.

"Hmmm," his eyes squeezed shut as he grumbled.

"Daddy," I repeated, gently nudging his shoulder. "Wha…? Mmm," he opened his eyes, blinked once, and then again.

"Skyla?" he sounded groggy and confused. My heart skipped a beat and I sat there, fighting back the tears that were beginning to build up in the corners of my eyes. "What's wrong? Was it a bad dream?" his words slurred together and were nearly indistinguishable but regardless, I smiled.

"No," I murmured in return as a tear spilled down my cheek, "no, everything's wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

"Huh? Wh-Gah!" he cried out in pain as he attempted to get up. The monitor began to beep frantically as the small red line which mimicked his heart beat spiked to the top of the screen. "Ah, no don't do that," I fretted, urging him to lie back down. His head fell back onto the pillow as it were lead and he sighed, looking exhausted from the strain of such little movement.

"What is this? Where are we?"

"It's alright," I soothed as his breathing calmed, "everything is going to be alright…" His fingers lightly curled around my hand and I rested my head on his pillow once more.

Despite the elated, joyous feeling that danced through my veins, there was something tugging at the back of my mind, something that had been there since much earlier that day. I couldn't avoid the thought of as good as it was that my father here and alive, he had returned alone. I closed my weary eyes, worried and relieved all in one sitting.

Finally my father is home…but where is my uncle?