Chapter Twenty-Six: The Precious Words

Roy and I rode in silence, much slower than we usually would have gone. There was so much on my mind, I couldn't think straight, and I think that rubbed off on Roy a little. His hands were unsteady on the wheel, and a muscle in his jaw was jumping. The more I thought about Al's theory, the more I started to justify it, until suddenly, terrifyingly, it seemed possible. He was right, a Philosopher's Stone alone was not enough to return a soul to a body, and a life for a life was not enough to breathe life back into a person. Together, combined with the fact that I had newly died when he attempted to bring me back, he gave the ultimate sacrifice and he brought me back.

I did the same for him, and I brought his mind, soul and body back to this world. His soul had been, in essence, part of the armor because the blood seal was part of the armor, and that was his anchor. When Scar turned him into the Philosopher's Stone – a large Philosopher's Stone, not one of those small fragments from history – it turned not only the armor, but his self into the Stone, because of that single blood seal. I brought his soul back whole. If there was any of the Philosopher's Stone left, it almost made sense that it was still connected to his soul, and, thus, that he – or any other alchemist – could still use it.

Not only that, but the fact that a smaller version of the Gate resides in all of us. Dante and my father had both said this. I wasn't entirely sure that it was true about this world, but why not? The Gate wasn't exclusive to one single world; I had seen it in this one, it led me to this one. Some people in the other world didn't or couldn't do alchemy, but that didn't mean that they did not have a Gate inside of them; it simply meant that they were already too connected to the physical world, and that they had difficulty accessing it. Alchemy wasn't even possible for Al and me in this world. It wasn't the people that lacked a Gate; it was the world that prevented them from opening it. Energy only flows in one direction. Or so I had always thought – the fact that Al and I were alive seemed to contradict that. That could mean that Al wasn't crazy, after all. It could mean that he was simply smarter than I was.

It would be wrong to use someone else, though. Even Becca, despite all her selfishness and bitchiness, didn't deserve to be sacrificed to get us home. It was a beautiful possibility, that I could return with Al, and we could live the life we were always supposed to lead, but if I had learned anything – if Al and I had learned anything – it was that nothing is worth the knowledge that the cost of our happiness had been at another human's life.

But Al must hate Becca by now, he must be so desperate. It was so unlike him, but it was true that this was the first time he had experienced feelings like these in a human body.

Before we moved to the States, before we left, there was never really a girl; Al didn't even manage to make friends. I suppose the same could be said for me, but at least I did things when I was here alone. Al, on the other hand, stayed close to me, and, after a while, Noa, and that was it. In that metal shell he used to have, because he didn't have a body he didn't have the capability to be influenced so heavily by the feeling of being close to someone else. When he felt betrayed or sad, he didn't get that heavy, physically painful feeling in his stomach because he had no stomach. Maybe the truth was that it was hard for him to function like this, because he never had in the past.

Still, that didn't excuse what he planned on doing. We abandoned our search for the Stone when we realized it came at the cost of human lives. He should have abandoned his search for a way to get home when he realized he would have to kill someone to do it.

But…damn. Even now, when I hated myself for thinking it, what I wouldn't give to go home. Maybe there would be another way.

I glanced at Roy. He was nervous, and that was because I was uneasy. I mattered to him, as a person and as a friend. As much as I would have liked to see General Mustang again, it would hurt just as much to leave this man. It would hurt to leave Winnie, even if Winry and I ended up together. It would hurt to leave these people I'd never even met before, Anne, Irene, Shauna, Margaret, Daley…it would hurt just as much as leaving Noa.

I closed my eyes tightly as my own cruelty caught up with me. I clenched my fists, ground my teeth. Before I could stop myself, I whispered, "Damn."

Roy glanced at me. "What is it?" he asked.

I didn't reply for a long second. Then I said, "Nothing," releasing a breath I hadn't even known I was holding.

He didn't look at me again, but he obviously knew there was something wrong. He knew there was something wrong with the whole situation – with Becca's unreasonable threats, with Al's frail isolation, and with my uneasiness of the past few days. I didn't know how much he knew or what he suspected, but he cleared his throat and he said, "I'm sorry."

There was a short pause. I said, "Yeah. I am too."

We fell into one of those silences that feel like they physically can't be broken. There was a faint trace of awkwardness in the air, but for some reason I was almost comfortable in my misery. I leaned my head against the window as we passed the docks, thinking no more of the Gate, but instead what was beyond it. I thought of General Mustang, the man sitting beside me in the car. Maybe, if I had stayed, we might have ended up being friends. I thought about Central City and Resembool and Lior. I thought about Hughes, Tucker, and Armstrong. I thought of Winry, Auntie Pinako, Teacher and Den. I thought of Scar, of Dante and of Rose.

There was no terrible feeling of despair and emptiness; there was no sadness tugging at my heart or pulling tears from my eyes. Just fond memories. I closed my eyes, trying to lose myself.

"Hey, Ed," came Roy's voice. I opened my eyes and glanced at him. He was peering with a furrowed brow out of the windshield. "When does Lillian's ship leave?"

"In a couple minutes, if it's not gone already," I replied. "She should have boarded a while ago. Why?"

He slowed the car, looked confused. "Then why the hell is she still here?"

I turned, followed his gaze. Standing there at the docks was Lillian's unmistakably thin, lithe figure. Her long dark hair swayed in the wind, and there was a strange, troubled look on her face. She was surrounded by bustling people, moving about their daily business in long cloaks. Roy pulled over and stopped the car. I didn't mind; in fact, I would have done the exact same thing, but, as if to silence my protests, Roy said, "I just want to check that everything's okay."

He got out of the car, I followed suit. "Lillian," he called, above the noise of the crowd. "Lillian!"

She was looking around, but she didn't see us. She touched a stranger's arms and began to walk away, a rather resigned look on her face. He lurched forward a little; her being alone was making him nervous, and he didn't want to lose her.

Loudly, I called, "Lily!"

She turned around, scanning the crowd. Finally she saw us, and a wide, ecstatic grin spread across her face. She dodged through hoards of people and stopped in front of us. "Edward!" she gasped. "Edward, I was just looking for you – I thought you'd gone already, I was so disappointed. I'm so glad you're here, Edward."

"Me?" I asked. "Why me?"

Her face lit up in joy. She turned around, searching through the crowd for a moment, then stepped and took someone's arm. It was a tall woman whom had been facing the bay, probably admiring the view. She was wearing a long cloak with a hood, so her face was concealed. She had a small child in her arms. The woman moved her head slightly, and her face came into view.

For an instant my heart skipped a beat and I was shocked. My head was somewhere far off. All I could say was, "Rose?"

She pulled back her hood and she looked down, almost ashamed. "No," she told me quietly. "Just me."

I took a step backwards and staggered slightly. A tinge of red graced her dark cheeks, and trembling, "Maybe…maybe I shouldn't have come."

I recovered myself, stepped forward. "No," I said. "No, Noa, I'm so…God, Noa, I'm so happy to see you." I reached out and touched her elbow. She recoiled slightly. I looked at her, then something within me registered what was happening. She was flinching away from my touch, a baby in her arms. This was too much like…

Suddenly, I was terrified, and my heart started to pump like mad. "Noa," I said. "What…what happened to you?"

Just as quickly, her trembling was gone, and she continued, "It's not what you think, Edward. This baby," she looked down at the child in her arms, "this baby is mine, and I wanted him and I am glad that I have him. I always wanted to remember his father."

My heart felt like it was crumbling to pieces. His father. If she did want this baby, then that must mean…that must mean that, after I left her, she had moved on. In some ways, I suppose, I had done the same to her, but…not like this. Not so quickly.

"Oh," I said. "Then…are you here alone?" I looked around for someone else that she would reach out and grab. No one.

"No," she replied. "When we got into port, they didn't allow me a call, like they said they would…I don't know where I would be without help from your friend." She smiled at Lillian, who blushed.

"Oh, nonsense," Lillian said. "You would have gotten through, I only sped up the process." She paused, looking at Ed. "See, I remembered your photograph, Edward. When I asked and found out it was really the girl in your picture," she smiled, "I had to help her."

"Thank you," I said to Lillian, then I turned back to Noa. "But…what are you doing here?"

Noa shifted her baby slightly, pressed the child to her chest. "I didn't want the little one to grow up without a father."

I stared blankly at her. Roy let out a little noise, somewhere between a gasp and an utterance of, "Oh, Jesus."

"I don't understand," I said. "Did he leave you?"

She looked at me, her head cocked slightly to the side. "Yes," she said. "He did. But now I've found him again, and I think he should tell me whether or not I should just leave before I embarrass myself further."

For a long second, I found myself staring at her. I could feel both Roy and Lillian's eyes on me, staring at me doubtfully. Then, finally, I said, "Oh." I stopped, looking at Noa, then at the baby, who, now that I looked at it, was lighter than Noa was, the hair more blonde.

"Oh," I repeated. "Oh, my God, Noa, are you…are you trying to tell me that that baby is…that baby is…"

"Yours," she nodded. "Yes, Edward. He's yours."

I could barely breathe. "But, Noa…why didn't you tell me? I, I never would have left if I'd have known? Al – Al wouldn't've either, I can't believe this-"

"I didn't know," she told me. "I didn't know until you were gone. Gracia sent a letter for me, but there was no reply…I thought…I thought that maybe I shouldn't tell you, that you and Al were here in America doing what you both always dreamed of." She shook her head. "I told you, I wrote you so many letters after he was born. You must have seen one of them, don't lie to me."

"I didn't," I said, trying to convince her. "I swear I didn't, Noa. If…if I had, then, well…" I realized I was shaking. "Where did you send them to, Noa?"

"The address," she said. "The University address, I did everything Al told me to."

"Noa…neither of us are living there anymore. That's why I never got your letters."

Suddenly, her eyes were shining, overflowing with water. "Oh," and it was her saying this, not me. "I thought…I thought that you didn't want me to come." She straightened up, looked me in the eye. "But I came anyway, because I decided that it wasn't worth it, struggling alone."

There was a short pause. Then I stepped forward and I touched the baby, touched her arms. "I can't believe it," I whispered, looking at the tiny child's face. "This is so impossible."

"Nothing's impossible," she said, her hand on my cheek. "You showed me that, Edward."

I touched her hand. Then I turned to Lillian. "Thank you," I said. "Again. So much." I paused. "But I'm sorry you missed your ship. I'll pay for another ticket, and you can leave tomorrow, if you want-"

"Don't be silly," she said, and I realized she was touching her eyes, smoothing the tears out of the corners. "It was worth it, if just to witness that."

I grinned at her and turned to Roy, still standing there behind us. "Sorry," I said. "If we can just take them home, then I'll still go if-"

"No, no, no," said Roy, holding up his hands in protest. "I wouldn't even think of it." He smiled wryly. "Family comes first, after all."

"Yeah," I said, looking back at Noa, and the tiny baby in her arms. "You're right."

Family.

First of all, I'm sorrrrry.

Ignoring the fact that I haven't updated in eight months, this chapter was really really key. I was going to push it off for another chapter or two but I decided to skip a scene that was proving all too difficult for me to write. That scene I skipped will probably be explained later, but it was a bad idea from day 1 and I should have scrapped the plotline a long time ago.

The beginning of this chapter is sort of a recap of what Al's been thinking - I tried to justify it because it actually makes sense to me. Also I managed to sneak in there a major central idea and plot device in another story I've been (thinking about) writing, Madonna. The short summary of that particular story can be read on my profile. However, the girl in that story is waaaay too much like Becca. Except a little nicer. Or at least better at pretending to be nice. Speaking of Becca, sorry there's a significant lack of her and Al in this chapter. However, they do have a major scene coming up that will blow your mind. Seriously, I suggest the wearing of head gear while you read it.

(JK...maybe not that intense.)

Sorry sorry sorry. I probably shouldn't have started off with such a shocker. But now think about what effect this will have on all the other characters. Alllll of them. Expect some pretty strong reactions, to say the least. And Noa has a lot more to say to Ed - and Al.

There will be 4 more chapters at least. One will probably be the equivalent of an epilogue. And then I will probably post an alternate ending that you will all love and adore me for. What can I say? I love nice reviews :3

So if ANYONE is still following this story after so many months, thank you thank you thank you. My writing has improved drastically, and I couldn't have done it without you. Now that school's out and I have a month until we actually move out of our house (to London!), I will probably be able to get this story back on track.

The title of the chapter comes from an Emily Dickinson poem. "He ate and drank the precious Words, his Spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was Dust." :)