(AN: Chapter two. I did this speedy quick :D *proud of herself* despite my best efforts it still turned out dull-ish... I swear it gets better. Eventually. *twiddles thumbs and whistles*)

(PS: Ok. So. I've been asked about the ages of Ed, Winry, and Al and I figured I should take some time to explain... this story will loosely follow the MANGA verse. it picks up around chap 84, with slight differences, for instance, Al doesn't get split from Ed and they both briefly end up at Winry's. From here I'm going to TRY to loosely follow the plot, but its going to be changed to fit my... twists. *coughs* yeah. Anyway, Ed is 16. Winry's 16. And Al's 15. Hope that covers it :D)

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 2: Empiricism

While Winry's directions of 'Central Slums' was not the most helpful on record (Central was a big place dammit) Ed and Al soon found, that were ever there father goes, he always seems to garner some bits of attention in his wake, and as much as Ed was loathe to admit it, he could sympathies entirely.

So after a quick chat with a comely middle age women who's broken oven had been miraculously fixed by a "kind man with the most startling golden eyes." The brothers had discovered that there Father had temporarily stopped in the Southern City. Coincidentally, the location was only several miles away from where they had found the women.

With every mile that passed Ed's shoulders seemed to become stiffer and stiffer, like the weight of this looming meeting was pressing down on him, and it was, Ed could feel it.

"Al... how awkward do you think this is gonna be? On a scale of one to excruciating."

"Its going to be as hard as you make it, Brother, so let's say... indefinite?"

Ed gave a shaky grin and moved on into the city, a man sitting on a wooden barrel came into view and Ed's shoulders suddenly seemed to reach there limit in terms of tautness. If nothing else, Ed recognized Hohenheim's hair, which draped limply down his back.

"Damn it all to hell..." Al ignored his brothers muttered curse and initiated the conversation that could possibly change there lives.

"...Father?"

Hohenheim's head arose slowly, when he set his eyes on Al, his face took on an oddly comical look.

"My antique armor set?!"

Al's metaphorical eyebrows shot to his hairline; there had defiantly been more flattering introductions.

Ed, who had previously been half hidden by Al's hulking frame, rose to his brothers defense in a spectacular show of angry gestures.

"That's my brother you bastardy, sad excuse for a father!"

Al hadn't taken much offense to the mistake in the first place and quickly placed his hand on Ed's shoulder. Well, at least he was less tense now...

"Ah, my mistake then, very sorry, Alphonse, Edward. I must say, I've heard about the "giant suit of armor" that people say you have cloaked yourself in, but I didn't quite expect this suit of armor..." Hohenhiem kept his voice deceivingly pleasant, and looked up at Al from his place on the barrel with a calm outward appearance.

"That's ok... that was better then how some people react, um, ...Father?" Al cautiously tried the title, it felt good to say and the slight inclination of Hohenhiem's head prompted Al to decided to contradict his brother's tendency to call their father by name.

"Edward." Hohenhiem shifted his attention onto the elder of the two.

Alphonse could already see the storm brewing in his brothers eyes. He had never known enough about his father to work up any bitterness about his mysterious departure but Ed had been there for it all, and despite his greatest efforts to hid it, Ed truly was deeply hurt by his fathers abandonment. Even to this day.

Hohenheim only smiled and softly spoke, "You've grown."

Ed's annoyance with the entire situation seemed to finally reach the point of no return after this soft spoken observation.

"What the hell are you playing at, old man?! Is there a point to this all? Because believe me, Al and I have much more important things to do." Edward stopped to breath and regain his composure before speaking again in a much more even tone.

"Do you even know what we've been through?" Edward snorted "Wait, of course you don't, because you weren't there!"

For a brief moment, the only sounds were of Ed's heavy breathing and the people milling about around them, making sure to cut a large swath around the family feud.

"...I never meant to hurt either of you." Hoehenheim said.

"Well its a little too damn late for that, father. Mom's dead and Al and I will never be able to enjoy the childhood we deserved."

Ed's voice was even as he finally asked, "And if nothing else comes of the conversation, all I want to know, is why?"

Their father's face seemed to age before them, and he lowered his eyes down to the ground. "Have a seat, boys, I think it's time I finally explain some things to you,"

Ed took a seat on one of the wooden barrels and Al lowered himself to the ground. They were anxious to here what they had wondered for years, and as Hohenhiem opened his mouth to speak, Ed had an odd thought.

'Why is it, that the only thing on him that looks aged, is his eyes...'

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

AN: Now I know its bad to assume, but what good FMA fan doesn't know the Homunculus story? You don't? Look it up. I'm not particularly interested in restating the obvious =)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I quickly discovered that this body I was given does not age. It's the ultimate torture, you know. Being forced to watch the people around you die, as you stay forever young..."

Hohenhiem's tale ended with a heaving sigh. A sigh that told of centuries of living alone, emotionally cold and socially isolated. Ed's feelings were a tumulus tidal wave that seemed to crash against his stomach and batter his heart. One look at his brother's rigid posture proved that Al mirrored these feelings exactly.

Unbeknownst to this fierce inner war, Hohenheim continued on with his story. "After a few failed attempts at keeping any friends, I realized it was impossible." He looked down in shame. "I gave into the belief that I could never have any loved ones, least I hurt them, and myself, in the process. I stuck to it as well, until I met your mother... dear Trisha"

He nearly sobbed her name, and succeeded in giving his sons a start, before calming his breath and launching into another nostalgic tale...

(flashback)

It had been a long day. Hoenheim's research had made no progress at all and it seemed as though he had nothing to look forward to, even sleep, one small allowance that this body granted him, had soundly alluded him.

The bar across Main Street had looked inviting, rather sleezy, as these businesses tended to be, but inviting all the same...

Well, why the hell not? It's not like he could get drunk anyway. With a humorless snort, Hoenheim made his way across the cobbled street and though the brightly lit door. It would be a lonely evening considering his only drinking buddy, Pinako Rockbell, was miles away on automail business.

The inside was exactly what the alchemist had expected, dimly lit and smokey. The curtains were threadbare with a hue of faded rose and the cedar floors were clean but distinctly worn in. Above all else the friendly atmosphere of the bar was intoxicating, each customer seemed eager to meet new friends over shots of liquor and glasses of beer.

Every customer that is, except Hoenheim. He took a seat on a cushioned stool at the far side of the bar, he wasn't really in the mood for alcohol, but ordered a whiskey to keep up the appearance of normalcy.

Though the bar seemed to be a reasonably respectable place, it wasn't long before a small disagreement started behind him. He let his eyes travel lazily to the table adjacent to his stool.

A flip of wavy chestnut hair caught his eye. A clear, creamy complexion garnered more then a once over. And twinkling gray eyes had him captivated. Now more then a little interested, Hoenheim listened in to the heated conversation.

"Charles, Why did you follow me? There's absolutely nothing you could say to change a thing about what you've done" The beautiful women said stiffly.

"Trish, I love you, I adore you, please don't tell me that one stupid mistake can change everything we had?

Ah, it was now clear to Hoenheim what the poor women had gone through. His mouth tightened into a thin line as the conversation continued.

"Charles. I believe myself to be a very reasonable women, I give second chances when they are deserved and I try to be the best fiancee I can, but I will not be played for a fool. I know how men like you work. It's always one little mistake, until its two, and then three, and soon enough there are just no more 'I forgive you's' left."

Charles' (or doucheface, as Hoenheim had decided to affectionately nickname him) face clenched into an ugly expression of anger. "Trisha... do not argue with me. You will come back to my flat with me and we'll forget this whole little mess ever happened, ok?" A fleeting look of danger passed through Charles' ('douche-face's') visage as Trisha stood angrily from her wooden chair.

"No Charles, I am not going home with you. This is the last time that I will stand for you crap... and hopefully the last time I'll have to see your face."

That seemed to be the last straw for this Charles character. He jumped from his chair and roughly snatched Trisha's arm. He pulled her to him, harshly driving her into the chair she had been sitting in and against his hard chest.

Normally, Hoenheim would have left this situation for some other chivalrous sap to deal with, but this women had captured his attention unlike any other... and Hoenheim had known a lot of women. His body acted before his mind could catch up and within seconds his left hand was on the dark haired man's shoulder, and his right was driving towards his face. He stopped short about a millimeter from his nose.

"I think the lady here wants you to leave her alone..."

(End flashback)

Ed sat stock still on the barrel across from his father. He knew very well the question that was begging to be answered, the only thing that had kept he and Al under the impression that their Father had never cared for them. It was the one question Ed had wanted to ask all his life.

But he couldn't even open his mouth.

Al spoke, "Father... if you loved Mom so completely... why did you leave us? With no communication at all? We just... don't understand, we never did"

A wry smile graced Hoenheim's lips. He knew this question was coming, he had anticipated it the moment he saw his son's come over the bend down the city slum street. He shifted on his barrel to alleviate the ache his back was starting to develop.

"You remember that 'original Homunculus' I told you about earlier?"

"Yes." Al responded as Ed gave a short nod.

"About 11 years ago he came looking for me... Trisha was in the house at the time and you boys were over at... the Rockbells', I believe. For what was possibly the first time in my life, I was scared, scared and ashamed." Hoenheim's eye's were downcast. Nearly 11 years had elapsed, but the knowledge of what could have happened on that day stayed with him.

He looked at his sons, for whom he had given up so much to save from Homunculus's plan. "He wanted for me to join him, said I could be valuable to him in his fight to end humankind's rule over the world." Hoenheim paused to observe the expression of shock on Ed's face and Al's ridged posture, before continuing on." I turned him down of course, I told him to leave my cursed life alone. Hadn't he ruined it enough?" Another pause. Hoenheim put his hand over his eyes as if to hid from his sons gaze.

"He... persisted. Kept bribing and bribing, but didn't threaten, he believed that threatening was a human method. I... thought he wouldn't go to that point, didn't think it possible... but eventually he made an offer I couldn't refuse."

Ed grasped at the chance to condemn his father, the world he had built around him was tumbling around his ears and he needed something to squash the empathy rising in his chest. Ed had been ready to open his mouth and release a verbal lashing worthy of the history books, when a quiet hand and a weary look stopped him.

"He threatened to take you both away." Ed nearly slipped from his barrel and Al's gasp was audible.

"For what purpose I do not know, but you can be sure it would have ended in your death, both physical and mental." Hoenheim seemed to deem this a perfect time to pause his story telling, as his sons struggled to digest this knew information.

Edward seemed to be halfway between anger and joy. On one hand this news meant that his father hadn't ever really done anything to purposefully hurt his family, and Ed had been horribly mistaken all along. But, on the other hand, some part of Ed had always wanted this to be true. He had always secretly longed for anything that would prove him wrong, and here he had it.

In the chaos of his thoughts, Ed had almost, almost, forgotten about Al, one look at his brother proved Ed's suspicion. Al seemed purely happy to be proved right in his empathy for their father.

"So I ran. Ran away till I was sure he would never come near Risembol looking for me again. It worked, obviously. But I never thought something other then Homunculus would manage to destroy you boys..." He bowed his head and put a hand over his eyes. "You have to believe that I am more sorry then words can ever express, because when it comes down to it, your right Edward, this is all my fault."

It was the the words Ed had longed to hear for all he could remember of his life, but they left a bitter feeling in his stomach. It was odd to think of now, but Ed was suddenly reminded of the revelation he had come to as he traveled down the cobbled street to meet his father.

He hadn't actually been able to remember what his father had looked like. What was the exact shade of his eyes again? Hazel? Golden -like his own? Or gray -like Al's? And his face, was it angular? Did he have a strong jaw? In Edward's mind his father had never had an actual face, or recognizable features at all really, he had just been this figure whom Edward was sure had to be an arrogant bastard.

What shocked Ed the most, was that his father looked nothing like what he had imagined. His eyes were a tired and sad gold, his face was angular and his jaw was strong but they were both lined with stress wrinkles. This was not the face of a man who would leave his family on whim. It was the face of a man who fought to defend them.

…Well damn.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Al had known from the start...Well ok, he hadn't known from the start, but he knew there was more to the story then what had met his and his brothers eyes. So now that the most important issues had been addressed, there was really only one more variable.

"So father, was this all that you wanted us here for? Is there more?"

Hoenheim had been solely focused on Edwards reaction, (Ed still couldn't seem to form coharent sentences) but at this question he looked back to Al.

"Well... yes. I guess you could say that." Hoenheim paused, he seemed to have a habit of doing that, before answering Al's unspoken question.

"I... need you help."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

(AN: right now. I can totally tell that anyone reading this is going "WTF? How is this EdxWinry?"I am very sorry if this person is you. SOOOOOO I should probably take this opportunity to tell you that there will be VERY LITTLE Edward Winry contact... sorry, its necessary. And so was this chapter. I swear that not all of them will be this... sob story like. Next update will be around October: 25)

I own nothing.

Review :3