Chapter Twenty-Seven: Choices

Roy drove back to the house after I introduced him to Noa. As he drove and Lillian sat beside him and beamed back at us, I told Noa briefly what had happened to me since I came to America: moving out of the apartment I shared with Al, living for a short time with Roy and his family, and then moving into my own place. I said very little about Al, which caused her to look at me quizzically, but I just shook my head slightly and she understood.

When we reached Roy's home, Lillian went inside. Roy paused for a moment. "We're just going to take a walk," I said. "We'll be in soon. I'm sure she wants to meet everyone."

He nodded, and then there was a little smile on his face. "Congratulations, Ed," he said. "And…good luck." He turned and disappeared into the house.

I looked at Noa again. She wasn't looking at me. She was looked at her baby, smiling softly, rocking it in her arms. I didn't say anything for a moment, just followed her gaze and let my eyes rest on the child. He had eyes as dark as Noa's, but he had a tuft of hair on his tiny head that was unmistakably blonde. "What's his name?" I asked.

She didn't reply for a second, then she said, "I haven't decided yet."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "What have you been calling him?"

"Well," she said. "I've simply been calling him my baby. But Gracia – she helped me leave, she did so much for me – Gracia said he needed a name on the papers. So officially I've been travelling with my son, Alfons Elric."

I started slightly. "Alfons?" I asked. "After Al, or-"

"Both, I think," she replied, before I even finished my question. "Or either. Whichever. I thought about naming him after his father," she paused, and a small smile graced her face, "but then I decided against it. I thought…" she took a breath. "I thought it would be too difficult to call him that, if indeed I found you but you didn't want me. But with Alfons…I could tell myself I named him after a dead friend, that's all."

I touched her, and her expression changed slightly. I didn't know exactly what she was seeing, but I wished she could see how much I had missed her, how terrible I had felt. "I'm so sorry," I told her lowly. "I regretted leaving you so much. I still do. But I need you to know that I never – never – would have left you again." I hesitated, then said, "I love you, Noa."

She laughed slightly, hiccupping up a little sob as she did so. Her eyes were wet. "Please don't say that," she whispered. "Not yet. It still hurts when I think of the last time you said that to me."

It felt like her words sliced straight to my heart, but I forced myself to nod. There was a short silence, then I started to say, "You were wrong."

She looked at me. "What do you mean?"

I shook my head, and touched the baby gently. Little Alfons. His tiny mouth opened and he yawned. "I didn't love again," I told her. "Not after I left you."

She stared for a long moment, didn't say anything. Then, "I don't believe you."

A pause. "You don't believe me?"

She shook her head. "You can say that all you want, Edward," she said softly. "But when I touch you, all I can see is their faces."

I took my hand away so that she wasn't touching me anymore. I felt so ashamed. "I'm sorry," I told her. "I just wanted to make Al happy. I didn't want to take you away from your home."

"Home?" she asked. "I told you a long time ago. I don't have a home."

"…but America is a scary place."

"It was scary there too, without you."

I felt so ashamed. I couldn't even look her in the eye. Then I asked, "How was the journey?"

She shrugged. "I used the money you left, and Gracia helped me. It wasn't as difficult as it could have been." Another pause. Instead of looking at her face, I looked at the baby. My baby. I couldn't believe this. "Would you like to hold him?"

I tore my gaze away from the child and looked into Noa's eyes. "Oh," I said. "I don't know how to hold a baby, I'd be too afraid of dropping him, I-" The baby's tiny fingers curled around my thumb. He hiccupped. "Okay," I murmured.

She smiled and I held my arms out. I wasn't lying, I didn't know how to hold a baby, but she placed the child in my arms and the baby blinked and closed his eyes. "Mind his head," said Noa gently, and suddenly everything was alright.

Everything that had happened, everything that was happening, everything got swept away. He felt warm and was so unbelievably small. "Hey little guy," I murmured. "Little Alfons."

A big smile lit up his tiny face, and he laughed.

Noa put one hand on my elbow, supporting the baby's head. "This is Papa, baby," she said to the child, tapping my chest. "Can you say Papa?" She was so close to me. Holding the baby with one hand, I slid the other around her waist and pressed my cheek against hers. I didn't want her to see the tears.

"Thank you," I whispered.

She took the child from my arms and I wiped my eyes quickly with my sleeve. "Will you help me do it, then?"

"Do what?" I asked, blinking hard.

She smiled. "Raise him."

I stared at her blankly for a second. Then, "Of course I will. You don't have to ask. He's…he's…" My voice cracked. "He's mine."

More silence. She was smiling now; she wasn't angry at me, and I didn't know why. I left her. No less, I left her with a child. She had every right to be outraged at me. She opened her mouth, but instead of shouting, like she should have been, she asked, "Where is Al? Is he inside?" She gestured to the door that Roy and Lillian had just entered.

"No," I replied, trying to collect my bearings. "No, he doesn't live here. For that matter, neither do I anymore, but I spend most of my time here. I suppose you know why."

She nodded. "Like I said. You love them."

I heaved a sigh. "I was thinking more along the lines of the familiar faces, but yes, that too, I guess." I paused. For some reason, I didn't want to tell her the truth. "Al left the University housing a while ago. He lives on his own now."

"Without you?" she asked, sounding oddly puzzled.

"Yeah," I answered. "Without me." Silence. Then, I continued, "You must be hungry, not to mention cold. Come on inside, I'll introduce you to everyone."

I turned and took her hand. But before we went anywhere, she pulled me back, drew me in, and gently touched her lips to mine. I cupped her face in my hands, savoring the simple, chaste kiss. We broke apart, foreheads touching. She whispered, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I muttered. "So much."

After a few seconds, I pulled away and led her up the steps and into the dark front hallway of Roy's home. There was a low buzz of conversation coming from upstairs, but I led Noa into the kitchen, where Riza was standing at the sink, finishing dishes, and Lillian and Irene were sitting at the table together. They all looked up as we entered. "Hello," I said, somewhat awkwardly. "Where did Roy go?"

"Upstairs," said Riza, looking at me with a little smile on her face. "But he told us you found an old friend." She nodded her head to Noa, who was standing sheepishly next to me. She had this way of standing when she was around strangers; it was as if she compacted herself. Her elbows turned in, even as she held the baby, her head tilted down so she was staring at the floor, and her feet nearly on top of each other. The baby hiccupped again.

"This is Noa," I said. "Noa, this is Riza, Irene, and you've already met Lillian."

Noa bowed her head even further, something I hadn't thought possible. "Good day," she said meekly. Lillian looked delighted.

Irene only had eyes for the child. She stared at him, an empty, jealous look on her face. She stood up and walked slowly, cautiously over to Noa. Breathlessly, she asked Noa, "Is this your son?" Noa looked at her and nodded. Irene stared more, soaking in every detail.

Noa lightly brushed my arm, and I think she saw what I knew of Irene, because she said, "Do you want to hold him?"

Irene shook her head. "I can't," she said, shaking back her sleeve and revealing her right arm, grotesquely twisted and withered. How long ago had she first shown this to me? I couldn't remember, but there it was, and she couldn't hold the baby. She looked up, trying to catch Noa's gaze. Noa was still staring at the ground. Irene ducked her head slightly to look at Noa in the face. "He's a beautiful baby," she said hollowly. She looked at me. "You take good care of him now, Ed."

"Don't worry, Irene," I told her. "I will. I swear to God, I will."

Riza opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Winnie's voice came from the stairs. "Hey, Ed," she said, and I turned to see her barreling down the stairs, and before I knew what was happening she had punched me in the face.

I staggered backwards a few steps. "What was that for?" I asked angrily, holding my jaw.

She was livid. "What was that for? What was that for? Are you kidding me? What is that?" She pointed at Noa, who looked bewildered and slightly scared. Irene touched Noa's shoulder, standing protectively beside her.

"That's Noa, Winnie," I said. I realized my mouth was bleeding. "I've told you about Noa before."

"You have?" asked Noa softly, and she sounded hopeful.

Winnie grimaced and said, "Yeah, you did tell me about her. However, I don't remember you telling me that you were a father."

"I didn't know!"

"Do you think that makes it better?" she demanded. "Do you think that excuses anything? Would you be sympathetic to the father of Daley's baby if he told you that he just didn't know? No, you damn well wouldn't, because that poor girl had to spend nine months carrying something you gave to her, and then she had the responsibility of her own child while you were here with us, doing whatever the hell you wanted! And you actually-" she let out a half-crazed laugh "-you actually had the nerve to sleep with another woman while, somewhere in the world, there is a woman with your baby inside of her! Jesus, Ed!"

"I didn't-"

"And don't pretend like you didn't do any of that, I know you did, because it was me. You slept with me. Everyone knows already, except for the poor girl in your photograph." She looked at Noa. "You can stay here," she said. "We have an extra room, we already have a nursery, and you certainly don't need this creep in your life anymore. Come on." She extended her hand towards Noa.

Doing the complete opposite of what I had expected, Noa slipped out of Irene's grasp and stepped next to me. "If it's alright," she said quietly. "I think I'd rather stay with Edward."

There was a short silence. Then Winnie talked again, sounding more controlled. "I didn't mean to scare you. Please, just leave him. He's a jerk and a hypocrite. He doesn't deserve you."

More silence. The baby started to cry. Margaret, standing on the last few steps of the stairs, said, "Looks like someone's been listening to Becca a little too much."

Winnie whipped around. "You shut the hell up about Becca right now," she said dangerously, "before I make you."

Riza stalked right out of the kitchen and took hold of Winnie's arm. "Winry!" she hissed. "This is not appropriate and we certainly do not greet guests with shouting matches!"

"I'm not shouting at her, I'm shouting at-"

"It doesn't matter. Excuse us," she said to the room at large, and she tugged Winnie up the stairs, muttering angrily as she went.

"I guess that's our cue to leave," I said.

"No, you don't have to go," said Irene. "Not just yet."

"I think we should," I replied. "What if next time she comes at me with a wrench?"

Roy stood at the side of the stairs. He had been thinking hard. He looked at Noa and me and abruptly said, "Yes. I think it's better if you go now. We can all talk later, after she's calmed down."

I nodded, then turned to Noa. "She's right, you know," I told her. "You can stay here. And I am a complete jerk, and there's nothing I can do to go back and make it better. But you could stay here."

"No," she said, softly but firmly. "I want to be with you."

I glanced around at the girls assembled, watching us. "Sorry I caused so much trouble," I said, apologizing to all of them. "We'll be back soon enough." The girls said goodbye to us as we stepped once again out into the cold outdoor air. My car was still in front of the house, where I had left it that morning.

"Where does Al live?" asked Noa. "I'd like to see him."

"Alright," I said, and I opened the door of the car for her. I started the engine and began to drive in silence. Then, finally, I said, "Winnie was absolutely right. About everything."

A pause. Then, "Why do you call her Winnie? I thought her name was Winry."

"It is," I began to explain. "But she doesn't like it when people call her that. She prefers Winnie. Besides," I said, "it helps me remember what's real and what's a just memory."

"Your memories are real."

"Yeah…but they aren't now. They aren't important, not like you are or…or Alfons is." Silence. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

She asked, "Who is Daley?"

"A girl," I replied. "The place they live in, that's sort of a home for women who have nowhere else to go. It's where they can be safe. Daley had her own baby a few months ago." I paused. "A girl. Named Faith."

"Faith," repeated Noa, tasting the word in her mouth. "A beautiful name."

I was driving her back to the place that I lived. "I should call Al first," I said. "So he knows."

She nodded. Whether or not she had seen Becca in my mind already, I didn't know, but she seemed alright with putting off seeing Al for just a while longer. The day was still young, and there was a lot that I had to talk to her about. There were so many questions I had to ask her, but she probably had more questions for me. I wished she would ask them, because things felt heavy on tension, weighing down on my chest.

It wasn't until we were inside the small apartment that I recalled how little it was. I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. "I know it's tight," I told her apologetically, "but it was just me for a long time."

She said, "I think it's wonderful. Such a change from the cabin on the ship."

I felt another pang in my heart. "Noa…" I began. "If I had known, I would have come back just for you, I swear, I-"

"No," she said. "Don't do that. No more ifs. I understand."

I hesitated. "Why aren't you angry with me?"

She considered me for a moment, then looked down at the baby. "I was very angry at you," she said quietly. "But now that I've found you, I realize that I want you back more than anything else."

I wouldn't look at her. "Winnie was right. God, Noa, you should have listened to her. I don't deserve any of this."

She reached out and took hold of me. "You don't get it, do you?" she asked gently. "I understand, Edward. I can feel what you do. Remember?"

She could feel what I felt, but it didn't make it any better. I left her. When I thought back, I couldn't remember why I would ever leave someone as beautiful and simple and kind as Noa.

She wasn't touching me anymore, but it was as if she was, because she asked, "What about Al?"

"What?" I asked, startled.

"Al," she repeated. "Weren't you going to call him?"

"Oh, right," I said, then I paused. "Didn't you bring any luggage?"

She shook her head. "I should have," she said with a coy smile. "But as much as I worried, some part of me believed that I would find you." She reached that same hand out and touched my face gently. "And I did."

I took her hand in mine. After a few moments, I said, "I'll call Al. We'll see him as soon as possible." I let go, and I picked up the receiver, dialed his number. Noa held the baby in her hands, looking down at it with an expression on her face that brought me back to Rose. She looked just like her, with this baby in her arms. It made me feel so guilty.

A ring, another one. Then another, then the sound of the phone being picked up, and a woman's voice on the line. "Hello?"

"Becca," I said. "It's Ed. Is Al there?"

"Yes, of course he is," she said. "But you're supposed to be-"

She stopped; I heard Al say something, but I couldn't make out just what. Becca said, "Just a moment," and she must have placed her hand over the receiver because everything became muffled.

Then there was the sound of the phone changing hands and a tired, "Ed? I thought you had left already."

"We were on our way," I replied. "But something came up." I stopped. "Would it be possible to come over? I really need to talk to you about something."

There was a long pause, then Al finally said, "Yes, it's fine."

He didn't say anything more. I had to ask. "You haven't…you haven't done anything, have you?"

"No," he said immediately. "I told you I'd wait until you came back, and I wouldn't break a promise to you."

There was sincerity in his voice, and I couldn't help but smile, my eyes on Noa sitting with the baby in her arms. I didn't want to tell Al that she was here over the phone; it would be better if he saw her in person. "Okay," I said. "I'll be right over." And we hung up.

Noa looked at me. "You didn't tell him."

"I want to surprise him," I said. "He'll be glad to see you, I know he will. He missed you too."

She asked, "Who is Becca? Is she the woman he's living with?"

I frowned. "How did you-"

"I saw her face," she explained, before I even finished my query. "When I touched you."

I nodded grimly. "Yeah, that's Becca. What else did you see?"

Instead of looking at me, she looked down at the baby. "Not much. Your old memories are still there, you know. I can still see those."

I looked at her skeptically. "That's all?"

She cocked her head to the side. "I saw Al," she said simply. "Is he…is he as angry as he looks?"

I sighed. "Yes," I said. "No. Maybe. I'm not sure, right now. He and I…we haven't been talking much lately."

She nodded, as if she understood. But of course she understood; she was the only one in the world who could. It had simply been so long, I'd forgotten that she knew more about me than even I did.

Noa took a few minutes to freshen up, leaving the baby with me. I sat down on the couch and laid the child down in front of me. I still could barely wrap my head around the fact that this baby was my son. Son. The word sounded so foreign, now that it I was on the other end, now that I was the father…

We rode to Al's house in silence, one of her hands resting gently on my arm. I tried to break down the barriers and let her in as much as I could, and it was easier to do this without words. When we arrived at Al's place, I stopped the car at the curb and got out, opening the door for Noa. Before knocking on the door, I stopped and turned to Noa. "Before we go in," I told her. "You should know, if you haven't seen already: Becca is kind of…difficult to deal with."

Noa laughed slightly. "I'm sure I've dealt with worse in the past."

I felt a twinge of guilt deep within my chest, again, but I just nodded and knocked on the door. Almost instantly, Al opened the door. He looked at me, then his eyes moved slightly and he saw Noa standing there. His eyes widened and he stood there, frozen, in silence.

"Hello, Al," she said gently. "It's been a while."

He didn't say anything. His eyes flickered to the baby in her arms. In a hushed tone, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

She smiled at him. "I didn't want to be alone anymore."

There was a long, long silence. I almost said something, but the look on Al's face stopped me. He looked shocked and, what's worse, he looked horrified. His eyes were wide and disbelieving. Finally, I asked, "Al, are you okay?"

He was shaking his head. "No," he said, still staring at Noa. "No, not now."

"What?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

He put his hand to his face, covering his eyes. "I was so close." His hand dragged down his face, revealing his open eyes again. "Why now?" he breathed. "Couldn't you have stayed another week, another month?"

Noa looked agonizingly stunned. "You…you don't want me here?"

He shook his head. "No," he told us. "No, of course not. Noa, I'm so happy to see you again. I thought I never would. I thought I'd said goodbye for sure. I'm so happy that you're here, and that you're safe and that you…" he trailed off, but he was looking at the baby and I thought I knew what he was thinking.

"Congratulations, Al," I said softly. "You're an uncle."

He looked at me. "Yes…" he replied. "I know."

"What?" I asked, almost suspiciously. "Did Winnie call?"

He shook his head, but stepped away from the door, inviting us in. "No," he said, "but I think there's something I need to show you."

I looked at Noa, who just shrugged slightly, then we both went inside. I'd never actually been inside Al's home, but it was smaller than it appeared from the outside, although it looked in good condition. Al led us into a sitting room, and the moment he invited us to sit down, Becca entered the room. "Well, would you look at this!" she said delightedly. "You're that girl, aren't you? You're that gypsy girl in the photograph."

I rolled my eyes. "Just go away, Becca."

"No, no," she said. "I have to stay, just for a moment. Just to appreciate the beautiful coincidence. Oh, lord, I never imagined it'd be this good."

"Just leave, Becca-"

"Please. You come into this house – my house – with a little Edward Jr. and you want me to leave? How inconsiderate." She pretended to pout and addressed Noa. "Usually he's less civil, you know. Once he hit me. You know what they say about men, though. You leave them for a week – well, it was more than a year in your case though, wasn't it? Anyway, you leave them and they lose all their manners." She smirked. "How was the journey? You weren't knocked around too badly, were you?"

I ignored her, and I tried to tell Noa nonverbally to do so as well, but Noa simply passed me the baby and stood up, strode towards Becca. For a moment I thought she was going to hit Becca, but instead she simply reached out a hand and touched her arm, looking intently into Becca's eyes, scrutinizing her all the while. The smirk disappeared from Becca's face. After a few moments, she said, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get your dirty hands off me, gypsy."

Al entered the room again; I hadn't realized he'd left. At a look from him, Noa took her hands off of Becca, who looked angry and offended. Al put his own hands on Becca and said quietly, "I need you to leave us alone."

"Again?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "Please, one last time, I promise."

She looked jaded, but she turned on her heel and left the room anyway, closing the door behind her. It was then that I noticed Al was carrying a small box of sorts. Noa sat down again, taking the baby. Al sat across from us, a small wooden table separating us. He held the small box in his lap. "I don't know how much you've seen," he said, and I could only assume he was talking to Noa. "But I want you to know how he felt. If nothing else, I need you to know this."

She looked at me, then back at him. "Please, tell me."

He looked at her, with burning eyes. I looked at the floor, at my hands, because I knew what he was going to say and I didn't want to hear it. "Once," he continued, "he tried to leave me."

A still silence. Then, Noa said, "I don't understand."

"He tried to leave me," Al repeated. "One time, and that was the worst it got. He didn't want to live without you, I hope you know that. But neither of us were prepared to lose each other, not then. So we stopped thinking about you. The both of us."

I said, "Al-"

"No, don't," he said to me. "You know it's true. Do you really think you'd ever have been with Winnie for so long if you'd still been thinking about her?" He paused, looked back at Noa. "I'm sorry I have to say this, Noa. But…it's just…I need you to understand."

"Of course I understand," she told him, so much kinder than I had ever been to Al. The guilt came back again. "I felt the same way. I did."

"No, you didn't," he said bluntly. "I know you didn't."

Instantly, there was a crackling sort of tension in the air. Quietly, Noa asked, "What do you mean by that?"

He looked down at the box in his lap. He opened it, and as he emptied it onto the table between us, he said, "How could I have allowed him to think of you again, after you had almost killed him once already? I didn't want to be alone and maybe that's selfish, but then again, Ed, like you said before, maybe it's not selfish…just simply human."

My eyes widened as I stared at what sat on the table. Noa didn't move a muscle. I leaned forward, held one of the thin paper items on the table. Noa whispered, "Oh, God."

The majority of the envelopes were unopened, but a few were and, my hands shaking, I extracted a thin piece of paper covered with a familiar scrawl from one that was already open. As I skimmed through the words, I could barely breathe.

"Al, these…" Noa said. "These are…"

She breathed a long shuddering breath, staring at Al, her eyes wide, clutching the baby to her chest. The words I had been hoping to everything I had ever believed in were not true came out of her mouth like a whisper in the wind, exploding into the air and breaking my heart.

"…these are my letters."

Ohcrap.

Firstly: Winnie's response. Raise your hand if you saw that one coming. *raises hand*

Secondly: Yes, I've been planning this all along. Since like chapter 9 or 10. Personally I feel like this is something Al would do; I feel where he's coming from. Look at his personality in CoS if you don't entirely agree. He's somewhat impulsive, and also I think he's pretty selfish. But what's wrong with that? When the alternative is losing someone you love or never seeing them again, isn't being a little selfish justified?

Okay, so maybe not this amount of selfishness. But Al was just too afraid that Ed was going to do something dumb again if he started thinking about Noa that much. It's 4am right now so I hope this all makes sense and it's still okay despite my tiredness. I feel like I have too much description of movement in this chapter? Constructive crit as always, please.

The end of this chapter was particularly inspired by an Emily Dickinson quote. "Better to be the hammer than the anvil."