If you just got an alert about a new chapter update and are now reading this, I don't deserve you. Really. But thanks a million for sticking around. (If you're a new reader, welcome!)

Special thanks to ClosetFMAfan, Fire From Above, TheMistofThePast, Thowell3, Legendarily Quiet, TheCandyChild, fangurlsrule, RBK22, and the guests who commented! I wouldn't have managed an update without your support. and a HUGE thanks to LadyAureliana for being generally awesome and encouraging and willing to listen to my frustrations :P

Same disclaimer as always. I love y'all!

"Are you asking my permission to leave the city?"

Ed crossed his arms over his chest. "No. We've just hit a dead end in our research."

"So you're asking for my help."

Ed snarled. "We're not-"

"Yes, we're asking for your help, Colonel," Al cut in. "And if you can help us, then my brother would also need your permission to leave the city."

Colonel Mustang leaned back in his desk chair and considered the younger brother with a more generous air than he had the older, whom he had been smirking at a moment ago. "What is it you need?"

Ed glared at his brother for a moment, but, knowing his intervention was helpful, just huffed and turned back to the Colonel. "That alchemist you mentioned a while back, Kelling. Do you know where to find his research? The books around here aren't any help."

"Kelling? I thought you looked into that before we were given our combat orders."

The blond shrugged, a bit embarrassed. "We never found anything then, either. Every book that mentions him is so vague…"

"You said you learned about him from the man you used to study under, right, sir?" Al asked. "Did they know each other? Would knowing the name of your old master help us find Kelling?"

The Colonel shook his head. "They didn't know each other. Kelling was before his time. He only knew of his work. I don't know where Kelling's original research would be; all I know is Master Hawkeye was very interested in his work before… we met."

Ed perked up. "So he probably took a bunch of notes on Kelling's research."

"Yes," Mustang said hesitantly. "But I would not recommend trying to find those."

"Why not? Did the military take all the stuff in his house when he died? If they did, then you could–"

"Berthold Hawkeye was not connected to the military."

"No? Then there might still be something at his house," Ed persisted. "Did you ever go back there after he died? Did you find anything?"

"I didn't look," he said evenly. "But I doubt you will find anything of use."

Ed huffed. "Right. Okay. Well, thanks for being so damn helpful. I'll see you later."

"Fullmetal–"

Ed ignored him, turning out of the office. Al hurried to follow.

"Don't be upset with the Colonel," Al said once they were out in the hall. "He's trying–"

"I'm not upset with him. We're going to Berthold Hawkeye's house."

Al stared at him for a moment before nodding. "I got the feeling he was hiding something, too. But how are we going to find out where Master Hawkeye's house is?"

"We'll just break into the records office. They've got personal stuff on all of us, I'm sure we could find out where the Lieutenant's home town is."

Al seemed a bit uneasy but there was resolve in his jaw. They both knew how important this could be. After a moment he nodded again.

"And after we check out his house," Ed added briskly, "there's a stop I want to make on our way back."

Winry woke feeling stiff and sore. Her muscles didn't feel much like getting her out of bed and she was honestly hard pressed to find a reason to make them. She had no customers that day, thankfully, but she did have some supply shopping to do. That could wait, right? At least until the afternoon. She wouldn't have to get up for several more hours.

"Winry! Breakfast!"

Or not. After a few more precious moments of lying motionless, she heaved herself up into a sitting position and stretched lethargically. The dark fingerprints across her bicep alarmed her for a moment, but it wasn't like she had forgotten what had happened the day before. Still, it was an unpleasant sight, and the bruises were becoming more pronounced.

In the mirror on the opposite wall she caught her reflection and almost laughed. Her skin was pale, with dark bags beginning to form under her eyes, which were slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep, and her hair had dried flat on one side, bumpy on the other. She looked like she'd been on some serious drugs.

She was not looking forward to the inevitable questioning once Granny realized Scot was no longer in the house, but it couldn't be helped. She stood and grabbed a hair tie from her dresser. She could at least make herself look half presentable.

Ed cursed, kicking at the pile of rubble. "That bastard…"

"We can't say he didn't warn us," Al observed relucantly.

"He might've mentioned he burned the damn place to the ground!"

"He did say we wouldn't find anything useful..."

That was an understatement. There was little question that this was the work of the Flame Alchemist. Not a wall was left standing, no furniture left recognizable. What was once a respectable place to live was now just a blackened pile of ash and debris. Say what you want about Mustang's alchemy, but it certainly was efficient. "More like anything at all. This place is a wasteland."

"What confuses me is why the Colonel would want to burn it down in the first place." Al frowned thoughtfully.

"'Cause he's a jumped-up arsonist?"

"Or maybe there was something here he didn't want people to know about."

Ed glanced quickly at his brother. "Like the research notes we're looking for?"

"Possibly. But if that were the case, why would the Colonel ever mention Kelling's name in the first place?"

"You think it was something Berthold Hawkeye was doing?"

Al shrugged. "It's just a guess. In any case, there's not much reason to hang around here. If the Colonel didn't want there to be anything left, then there's nothing left."

Ed cursed again. Al was right. Another lead, useless.

The trees outside the train window zipped past Ed's vision, blurring together to form a vague mass of moving brown stripes. Al slept on his shoulder, the beginning of a puddle of drool forming on his sleeve. The older boy had caused his little brother so much stress lately that he didn't have the heart to push him off.

The records office had been almost ridiculously easy to break into, and in Ed's opinion they'd left a relatively small amount of destruction in their wake. It was probably only a matter of time before the Colonel heard about it and put two and two together, but Ed wasn't worried. It would take a lot to get Mustang off his lazy rear and actually come after them. Knowing the state in which he had left Hawkeye's house, he wouldn't be worried about the brothers finding something they shouldn't. Besides, he wasn't supposed to leave East City any more than they were, and he was historically less willing to break rules than the Elrics.

It was only after the fact that Ed considered the whole thing could've really ended up being a gross violation of the Lieutenant's privacy. He wasn't sure if she would have cared, but he reluctantly realized that they should have at least talked to her about it first. She might have even been able to tell them it was a lost cause. Ed wondered if she'd been back there since her father's death, if she even knew the house was no more.

If she hadn't known, but didn't want them snooping around, would he have pursued it anyway? Ed hated to admit it even to himself, but it almost wasn't a question. If there was any chance at all that they might uncover something that could help Al, he would have had to pursue it.

The train pulled into the station. He nudged his brother awake and the two of them got off, back onto the familiar platform. Home sweet home, he thought somewhat sardonically. At least this town held more warmth for them than it once did.

For some reason Ed thought that once they arrived at Winry's house he would magically have come up with a good excuse for being there, but, as he should have realized, that did not turn out to be the case. He could hardly tell her he wanted to make sure she was okay after her distressed phone call several nights ago, since he wasn't supposed to have known anything about that call. Honestly, the whole problem of balancing two identities around Winry was getting tiring and a bit ridiculous, but he couldn't see an easy way out of it at this point without seriously breaking her trust and bringing up questions that would bring him dangerously close to sensitive military information. He didn't want to be the reason things blew up in the face of Mustang's team any more than he already was.

Al sighed as he watched his brother pace back and forth on the porch. "We could just say we were passing through. We kind of were passing through."

"She'd see right through that. That's what they all say."

"That's what who all say? Brother, Winry's not looking for a reason to bust us. She has no reason to be suspicious of who we are, does she?"

Ed grimaced, hearing Winry's voice from that night, somewhat garbled by the phone lines. "You just reminded me of someone." He hadn't told Al every detail about that conversation, just enough to make him understand why he felt the need to check up on her.

"Or..."" Al started, seeming to understand at least part of what was behind Ed's expression. "Even if she does, is it that big a deal? I feel like we can trust her."

"Can we, Al? Can we trust anyone? I know I've already blown my cover once, with your medical unit, but I'm just…"

"Just?"

Tired of making a mess of things. Ed sighed. "Just trying to be careful." For once.

If Al was going to respond to that, his reply was cut off by the front door opening.

Winry knew she was going to tell her grandmother what had happened with Scot, but she was starting to wish she hadn't. When she had told Granny why he was no longer staying with them, her grandmother had taken it in with a calm exterior, but Winry could tell underneath she was simmering. She'd called all her contacts in the area where Scot lived that she knew had young girls in the household to warn them against him, an endeavor which Winry tried not to be completely humiliated by. Since then Granny had been hovering close by, reluctant to leave her granddaughter alone while simultaneously trying to appear as if she were not hovering. In a way the mechanic was grateful for her concern, but she didn't exactly enjoy the feeling of being constantly under supervision.

The hovering had been going on for several days now, only interrupted when Granny was forced to leave the house for various business related errands, allowing Winry to catch a breather from the constant supervision. Her grandmother had been gone for about half an hour on one such occasion when she decided to take advantage of the opportunity and get a bit of fresh air.

Her coat was only halfway on her body by the time she got the door open and saw the Elric brothers on her porch, looking like children caught sneaking sweets. She was pretty sure a small, startled yelp escaped her throat and she stood there with her hand still on the doorknob, the door halfway open.

This was certainly not a sight she expected to see this morning. After a moment of recovering a bit of her senses, her eyes lowered to Ed's limbs to see if something had happened to his automail, but of course in this weather he was wearing a coat and long pants, so it wasn't immediately obvious. He was standing, at any rate, and his arm didn't seem to be hanging unnaturally at his side. She was about to ask what in the world they were doing there when Al cut through the stunned pause.

"Hello, Winry!" He greeted with a slightly embarrassed but genuine smile. "Nice to see you again! We were just passing through and we thought we'd stop by."

Ed was staring at Winry's exposed left upper arm, his face hard. She quickly pulled her coat on the rest of the way. His eyes lifted to hers and she looked at Al instead. She'd almost forgotten how intense those eyes could be. "Oh, um… Great! Nice to see you, too! You could've called, though," she chuckled, hoping she sounded natural.

"Right, sorry," Al said, nudging Ed. "See, brother, I told you we should call."

Ed blinked, seeming to come to himself. "So, are you gonna let us in?"

"Well I would–" she started, bristling automatically, before stopping herself. "I mean–no. No." She was still standing in front of the door with it half open and she subconsciously closed it a bit further. Granny had told her not to let anyone be alone with her in the house, and while Winry didn't like being distrusting of the Elrics, she planned to follow her grandmother's advice, at least until they both calmed down from what happened. After all, she had thought she could trust Scot, too. Her stomach clenched with the thought that even Ed and Al might be capable of wishing her harm.

Both of them looked taken aback, Ed spluttering, "What–"

"I mean–my Granny's not home, but we can go into town if you want," she explained quickly, hoping they wouldn't bring up the fact that they had been in her house when Granny was out before, especially Ed, having lived with them. Thankfully they didn't, only exchanging one of their aggravating Brother Looks before Al spoke.

"Of course, yeah, that's fine."

"I was just going for a walk anyway," she continued, pulling the door all the way closed behind her.

The three of them headed down the path leading away from the house. Winry could see Ed glancing at her every few seconds on the edge of her vision, a slight frown on his face. She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she hadn't showered that morning.

"How've things been here?" Ed asked.

"Good. Business has been fairly light, overall. About as many clients as when you were here."

"Ah." Ed looked like he wanted to say something else. He didn't. Al picked up the conversation.

"What can I get for you today?"

"We'll take three hot cocoas, thanks."

The tall waitress walked back toward the kitchen and Winry turned back to the boys. The walk here to the cafe had been aggravating for Ed. With every lull in conversation he had wanted to ask the questions searing into his skull, made even more pressing with the sight of the purple and slightly green skin Winry had been so eager to hide underneath her coat sleeve. Those marks had been distinctly finger-shaped. Did that have anything to do with what she had called him about that night? Just thinking about it made his fists itch to punch something–someone.

He wished he could just ask, but he knew he couldn't. The look on her face when she had quickly pulled her coat up the rest of the way told him that if he demanded to know where she got those bruises, she would just make up some lame excuse and change the subject. It wasn't Ed she had turned to in her late-night distress, it was a near stranger. It wasn't any of Ed's business.

"So how're your classes going, Al?"

He cleared his throat. "It was more like… just one class. And I dropped it, actually."

"Oh." Winry's brows knitted together. "Was the coursework too hard?"

Ed snorted. "More like too easy. I'll have you know, my brother is a genius."

Al rolled his eyes. "What he means to say is, I wasn't getting much out of the class."

"What was the subject?"

Al appeared only a bit nervous before answering. "Alkahestry." Ed held his breath. Winry blinked.

"Oh. Is that some sort of science? I've never heard of it."

Ed let out his breath.

"Yeah, it is," Al answered.

Winry nodded. "Well, sorry that didn't work out. So are you two planning to stay in Resembool tonight, or do you have to be on your way?"

The train back east would come the next day, but with the Colonel likely waiting to reprimand them for disobeying orders again, they weren't sure they wanted to head back there just yet. But with all of their leads absolutely shot down, where else would they go? "We'll be here for at least a night," Ed answered. "You don't mind if we crash at your place, do you?"

Winry shook her head. "No. In fact, Granny will probably insist."

The tops of the tombstones were bathed in sunlight, casting a shadow over the wreath of daisies placed carefully on the grave that the Elric boys stood before. The sensation of wrongness that Al experienced the first time he remembered standing here settled once again in the pit of his stomach, only slightly muted by the years.

He glanced at his brother. Ed had made the daisy wreath. He did that every time Al could remember the two of them visiting this grave, which admittedly was not often.

His brother's expression was hard to read, but his shoulders slumped. At least he wasn't looking at Al. Al knew that when he did that, though his eyes would be guarded, underneath it would be the same look Ed had given him when he finally told him about their sensei's death. The same barely restrained sorrow. The same guilt. It was the look of guilt that hurt Al more than anything else.

He let his eyes fall back to the name engraved into the tombstone. He wanted to leave.

Winry was almost done with her morning coffee when the front door opened, admitting a ruddy-cheeked Al. He hung up his mustard yellow scarf and black coat on the coat rack before spotting her on the couch.

"Good morning," he greeted.

"You were out?" she asked. "I figured the two of you were sleeping in. Is Ed out, too?"

"Yeah, he's still at his mother's grave."

Winry blinked. There were multiple things unexpected about that particular sentence. She'd start with the most obvious.

"She's buried nearby?"

"Oh!" Al seemed surprised, apparently not realising that she wouldn't know that. "Yeah, she died back when me an' my brother lived in Resembool."

"You used to live here?" In the month that Ed had spent living with them, how had that never come up? She was starting to get a picture of just how much that boy kept to himself.

"Yeah, we were both born here. We moved around, oh, five years ago. I was eleven."

That would have been several years after Winry had moved in with her grandmother. Pity that they'd never met.

"So is Ed your half brother, then?"

Al frowned in confusion. "No. Why would you say that?"

"I mean, you said he's at his mother's grave. I thought that must mean you have different mothers."

Al's reaction to that was not what Winry would have expected and she suddenly felt that she had said something wrong. He froze where he was, his eyes widening just the slightest amount.

"I said that?"

Now she was really confused. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"Please don't tell my brother I said that," Al pleaded, taking a seat in a chair across from the couch. "I didn't mean to. We definitely have the same mother. I mean," he added with a chuckle, a bit too high pitched to sound natural, "at least as far as I know."

"I–I won't tell him," Winry assured him warily, "But why did you say it?"

"I didn't mean to," he repeated, his hand in his hair. When she only looked at him, a question on her face, he sighed.

"My brother's the one who remembers our mom. I don't. Sometimes… sometimes it feels like she's just his mom, like she doesn't really have anything to do with me."

"But the two of you aren't that different in age, are you?"

"No… we're not. Just a year. It's not because I was too young to remember." Al tugged on the top of his hair, reminding her of Ed's nervous head-scratching. His gaze jumped around to various pieces of furniture in the room as if entreating them for a way out. Seemingly finding nothing, he went on.

"I have amnesia. Everything I know about my life before the age of ten is what my brother has told me."

He glanced at her as if to gauge her reaction and Winry was suddenly hyper-aware of the expression on her face. How were you supposed to respond when someone told you something like that?

"Oh, wow, that's… that's crazy." Her own voice sounded hollow and stupid in her ears. She'd never met anyone with amnesia before. Especially not as severe as that. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like. And the piece of information that his brother was apparently the only authority on what had happened during Al's childhood brought up even more questions. Didn't they have a dad? Any other family, friends?

"Yeah," he agreed.

"How did that happen?"

The boy grimaced as though he had been hoping that wouldn't be brought up. Honestly Winry thought it was a natural follow-up question that he really should have been expecting.

"I don't remember."

Nice try. "Didn't Ed tell you?"

As if on cue, the door opened and Ed threw off his coat, just as rosy-cheeked from the cold as Al had been a few minutes ago. His next step had him almost halfway to the ground, flinging out his left arm to grab the coat rack for support.

Winry jumped up from the couch, setting down her mug. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Ed grumbled. "Stupid leg acting up."

"Well, I guess that's to be expected. After resting so much at home, the trip down here was bound to be a bit of a strain."

Ed didn't respond, only briefly glancing at Al before straightening himself. Her eyes narrowed.

"You were resting at home, weren't you, Edward?"

He started hobbling weakly toward the stairs. "I think I'm going to go do that now…"

She whirled on the younger brother. "Al!" He threw up his hands.

"Don't look at me! I tried to get him to rest more, but the man wouldn't listen!"

Ed snorted. "Like hell he did. Is Granny nearby?"

Oh, trust me, she's nearby. "In the kitchen. I think she has breakfast for you two."

"Oh." Ed stopped short in his trek to the stairs. "Well, in that case."

"You go up to your room and lie down, I'll bring you something. Al, help him upstairs."

The two boys hesitated for a moment, staring at her. "You know, I definitely didn't miss your bossiness," Ed noted.

"I'm offering to bring you food, aren't I?" Winry huffed, her arms crossed. "Now move!"

This time there was no hesitation.

Winry bumped lightly against the door of the guest room before entering, a plate full of eggs and toast in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. She stepped carefully around Al's empty mattress on the floor before placing the plate on the bedside table.

She shook her head as Ed pulled himself into a slightly more upright position against the headboard. "Honestly, what is so important that you won't take the proper time to recover?"

"Nothing, it's just… I don't like sitting still."

She thought of her conversation with Al and wondered if that was something she could talk about with Ed. It was always so hard to tell. Oh well, she figured, might as well keep trying, or else they would never talk about anything important.

"So what happened to Al?" she asked as casually as she could manage.

She might have imagined it, but she could have sworn Ed froze for a fraction of a second. His response a moment later, however, was just as casual as her question.

"Isn't he downstairs eating breakfast?"

"I mean," she tried again patiently, perching on the foot of his bed, "what caused him to get amnesia?"

Now she was sure his jaw tightened, and now was really, really probably not the time to notice how strong that jawline was. Honestly, why did the guy have to be so dang striking? It was such a distraction. Other than that, though, he didn't seem too caught off guard, confirming her suspicions that he had known what she was getting at from the first question.

"He told you."

"It came up."

Ed looked like he really would rather be eating toast than talking about this. Apparently figuring there was no reason he couldn't do both, he stuffed an indecently sized bite into his mouth before speaking. "It was just a childhood accident."

How marvelously vague.

"It's okay, I get it," she said with a shallow sigh. "None of my business. I know there's a lot about your life you don't tell me. It's fine, really. I'm sure you have your reasons."

And honestly, why couldn't she just be satisfied with the vague answers? Why did she feel the need to butt into every part of these boys' lives? He didn't owe her an answer.

It was because they were so aggravatingly mysterious, she told herself. They knew pretty much every point of interest there was to know about her, and she knew next to nothing about them. That was why she wanted to get to know them, because it was only fair, and she was intrigued.

For now she could pretend that was the whole truth.

At least Ed had the courtesy to look regretful. "It's not like I don't want to tell you," he muttered. "It's just not something I can tell people."

"What, were the two of into criminal activity when you were children?" she joked, only realizing when the question was out of her mouth that it might not be a joke at all. A lot of messed up stuff could happen during a person's childhood that might lead them to desperate situations. Though she couldn't imagine any of those situations leading to amnesia.

Ed smiled, wide and mirthless. "Why, would you turn us over to the authorities if we were?" he asked, the question accompanied by a long swig of orange juice.

"Of course not," she said seriously, though she was admittedly getting a little nervous. "But… okay, say that is the reason you can't tell me. Hypothetically. You're not… into that kind of thing now. Are you?"

"No." He looked back at her just as seriously. "Not that kind of thing. Hypothetically."

The tension in her chest eased considerably. She didn't know what she would do if faced with the problem of harboring criminals. Surely she and her grandmother couldn't get in trouble over something that the boys may or may not have done when they were children, right?

"Don't you have any butter for this toast?" Ed grumbled, taking another large bite out of said offending toast.

"It's already buttered!" Winry insisted. "Goodness, just because it's not drowning…"

"If it's not drowning, it doesn't even count."

"Well excuse me for trying to make sure you don't have a heart attack."

"Mm…" Edward wrinkled his nose, thoughtfully considering it. "Nope. Not excused."

Winry pursed her lips together to keep from laughing. Ed may have been a jerk, but he did know how to break the tension.

"Whatever," she said, standing. "Enjoy your heart-attack-free breakfast. I'll be downstairs."

"Good. Maybe without you bothering me I can finally get some of that rest you keep nagging me about."

ahaha. There you go. To read about how Al lost his memory (since I'm sure you've guessed... and if you haven't, don't read it) go check out my one-shot, Awakening! It was originally written as backstory for this fic.

His amnesia has been hinted at most every chapter if you were really looking ;)

Don't forget to review!

Cheers,

Alice