You guys have NO idea how much trouble this last part gave me. I rewrote it...well, scrapped it completely about four times and rewrote it a good dozen more. Between that and school, well...

You all can thank Shade40 for staying on my back and continuing to poke me. They're a LOT of the reason why this is up at all.

Now, I said there was only one more chapter...but then I realized how long it was. Really, REALLY long. So now it's three chapters and an epilogue. I'll post them all pretty soon here. ^^; And by soon, I mean within the week.

xXx

It was too still, this empty space. Somehow it should have been more chaotic and wild…but it wasn't. Now there was nothing except for a vague form of something that wasn't quite a consciousness. The concept of time meant nothing here, and even if it had, the not-consciousness wouldn't have had the presence of mind to recognize it.

The nothingness was unnatural but so calm too. Here, the very ideas of responsibility or pressure or even boredom didn't exist. Despite this, something inside the not-consciousness fought a battle—a battle that would never advance to anything more than a standstill, but one that its instinct drove it to fight nonetheless—to regain something it had lost. The instinct gained no ground in its struggle, although it also lost nothing, but it was a fight that it could not win. Somehow, though, it knew that giving up would mean a cessation to exist at all, and so it fought, and fought, and fought. It could not possibly understand how long it struggled for. It only knew that giving up was not an option.

The expectation of regaining itself had long since died when the oppressiveness that had settled over everything suddenly dissipated, without explanation or warning, and he knew who he was once again. It felt as if he could breathe after being trapped in an airless space, and the relief it brought made him feel as if he could finally relax. After fighting for what felt simultaneously like forever and a few moments, he felt he could stop struggling and rest.

And so he did.

xXx

His ears began to work first. The beeping of a monitor; the sound of wind blowing against a window; the click of footsteps; a soft, even breathing that was not his own; he heard all of this and had to wonder just why and how because his mind didn't seem to want to work.

He found it difficult to even open his eyes. His eyelids felt like lead weights and it was difficult enough to even think about trying. Still, he felt no real need to rush, and so he slowly allowed his body to get used to the idea of consciousness.

When he could finally crack his eyelids, he managed to blink away the blurry image that met his gaze. The room around him was small, clean and dark, but not as dark as he'd expected for some reason. Light streamed through the open doorway and landed on a figure slumped over the side of the bed he lay on. She was a familiar figure and he immediately allowed any fear and confusion to vanish.

"Mom," he croaked, his mouth dry and swollen. His word wasn't more than a harsh whisper, but it was enough to startle her awake. She glanced around in a sleep-induced haze for a moment before her eyes landed on him and cleared.

"Selim?" she asked almost as if she didn't dare believe what she saw.

"Mom," he repeated, his voice breaking from disuse, but he didn't care. It took everything inside of him to get that out and he could already feel his energy draining.

Apparently she did care about the state of his voice because she rushed for a side table and fumbled with something for a moment. Then something hard was pressed to his lips. He couldn't see it…when had he closed his eyes?

The coolness that passed into his mouth after that was a God-send. He gulped the water down greedily and then sighed in contentment after the cup had been removed. He could hear his mother saying something, but he couldn't seem to make her words out. Still, knowing she hadn't left him, that she was still there and that she still cared for him, lifted a weight from his chest. He felt consciousness slip from him, but the small smile never fell from his lips.

xXx

"So this is where you live," Mr. Parkins said as he scoped Mandy's one-room apartment with distaste. Mandy watched him for a few moments, noting how out-of-place he looked in his expensive suit and immaculately trimmed hair and beard. The salt-and-pepper in his hair gave him a sense of wisdom without really adding onto the age.

In contrast, the flat she'd managed to procure for herself had been built several decades before, and while it had been clean when she'd left, a thick layer of dust had settled over everything, enhancing the worn feeling the room gave off.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him—and at herself for even making the observation—as she put her things on her bed.

"It's clean and it's all I need," she responded.

"And it's yours," he added on, tone suddenly quiet and sad.

She couldn't deny it. "Yes."

"Then perhaps it is a good thing I didn't bring Lucy."

Mandy couldn't help her countenance from darkening. "It is. She is not welcome here. Not that her heart would break over hearing that."

Her father sighed. "I wish you two would get along."

"It's a two-sided boat, dad. She's the one that wanted nothing to do with me."

Mr. Parkins frowned. "That isn't true."

"Really? Then why did she make my life a living—"

"Mandy," he interrupted her warningly.

"She did! Between the suitors and the hints that she didn't want a remnant of her husband's old marriage hanging around and adding baggage to the family name—" she cut herself off angrily, not wanting to say something she would regret later.

Her father shook his head. "The suitors were my idea, Mandy."

She waved her hand through the air dismissively. "I know you had a lot to do with picking just who would come and what not, but—"

"No," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "It was all my idea. I knew you'd hate it and so I kept doing it to motivate you."

Mandy could only stare at him with an open mouth as her mind tried to wrap around that. "What?" she finally managed to ask.

He shook his head grimly and folded his arms. "I knew you could go places, but I could have too if I would have had the motivation. It is why I taught you Alchemy. I knew you'd want to build your own future, not stay trapped in my legacy. I wanted that for you. It's what your mother would have wanted for you. So I gave you motivation."

Mandy closed her mouth with a snap and just stared at her father for several seconds. She'd always assumed that her step-mother hadn't wanted her there. They'd gotten into fights over the very subject more than once, and the woman had never denied it. But this...

Part of her felt as if she'd been severely betrayed, but part of her immediately understood that he was trying to give her the escape he'd always wanted. An escape from the life of someone who always had to keep up appearances—who had to at least look perfect because that was and would always be expected of him.

Apparently, it was a life neither of them wanted.

"Dad," she said after a while, "you didn't need to do that. I would have eventually left on my own." And yet, even as she said it, she still couldn't bring herself to be completely sure she wouldn't have grown complacent in the lifestyle she'd had. She hoped that didn't show in her voice.

Apparently it did. "Would you?"

She refrained from answering.

"In any case," he continued after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, "please stop blaming your step-mother. I know you two don't get along, but can't you at least try to stop hating each other?"

She didn't like the idea. At all. And yet, now that she knew that a good deal of her resentment had been misplaced...And wouldn't it be nice to have a home to go to? A real home, not some small corner of some small apartment building that would always remain empty. Besides, she almost lost the chance to make amends, and that would have broken her father's heart all over again. Amazing what a near death experience can do to a person.

"Fine, dad," she said as she sat down on the bed. Her legs felt weak and her stomach a little queasy. That didn't stop her from finishing the thought. "I'll try if she will."

Her father looked like Christmas had come early. It had been a long time since she'd seen that look of pride and relief on his face. "Thank you, honey," he said as he walked over and kissed her on the forehead.

"Now, let me at least treat you to dinner before I leave."

She smiled.

"Thanks, dad."

xXx

Awareness came more easily the second time, and he felt stronger, more solid and surer of his ability to remain awake. He slowly blinked his eyes open and saw his mother sitting in the same room, now much brighter, reading a book.

At first he didn't know what to say and just wanted to take the sight of her sitting there in. He was older than her, had memories that went back to centuries before she was born, so why did he still consider her his mother? It made no sense, but he wasn't upset about the realization.

Then he had to ask himself why she was here. Surely she knew…

"I'm surprised the room isn't completely devoid of light," he commented, yet again making her jump.

"Selim!" she breathed, then put a hand over her chest as if to steady her heart. "Don't do that!" she scolded.

He couldn't help but smile at that. She had to know about him and yet she was treating him as she always had. Then his eyes wandered back to that white ceiling and he couldn't help but wonder just how the situation would work out now. His mother hadn't ever really known him as Pride…not really. Hoping they could continue on as if nothing had happened was a fool's dream. Selim may have been many things, but a fool was not one of them.

"Why?" he asked.

She seemed confused. "Why what?"

"The military has to know where I am. Why did they allow me to be placed in a normal room such as this? Why not a darkened cell that would counteract my shadows?"

To her credit, the only sign of her discomfort at his question was the slight furrowing of her brow. Still he didn't regret his question. He wasn't the boy he'd been and the sooner she realized that, the better.

She didn't answer for a few seconds, but he awaited her answer patiently. He could practically hear her thoughts grinding away.

"I talked them out of it," she answered finally, her voice quiet but firm. "I'm surprised at how easily they gave in. I thought Roy of all people…" she faded off, obviously not wanting to finish that thought. Then she cleared her throat and he saw her turn a contemplative gaze to him out of the corner of his eye. "You must have made quite the impression on him."

He couldn't help the embarrassment that rose to his cheeks as his mind recalled the memories of what had happened—of how he'd practically broken down in front of Roy stinking Mustang of all people.

"I see," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

A heavy silence fell over the room at that, both of them unsure of what to say.

After a moment, Selim decided to break the heaviness. "How long have I been here?"

His mother jumped at the chance to answer him. Apparently she'd found the silence uncomfortable as well. "Here specifically? Six days, but I had you moved from the New Optain branch where you'd been unconscious for more than a month.

"A month?" he asked incredulously. It was a shock. He'd been expecting a few days at the most. But then, if they'd kept him in New Optain, that only made sense, what with the price he'd paid to Truth.

He steered his mind away from that unpleasant train of thought and looked for another. Thankfully, he found one sufficiently distracting almost immediately.

"Mandy," he blurted out before his mother could really say anything else. "How is she?"

Mrs. Bradley blinked at the sudden change of subject but didn't seem to question it. Actually, she smiled and seemed to relax.

"The dark-haired girl?" she asked. "She made a full recovery. Actually, I'm expecting her to stop by pretty soon here, in about an hour or so."

Selim closed his eyes, a weight lifting from his shoulders.

"From what I understand," the woman continued softly, "you gave up a lot to save her life. Selim, I'm so proud of you."

At first he wanted to beam at her pronouncement. Then he put it into perspective and had to scoff dryly. "Because you didn't think I would ever do something like that."

Again she took a while to answer as the smile faded from her lips. "No," she replied honestly. "Not from what I'd been told."

He'd been expecting that, but it still stung. It didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would though, for one reason.

"I'm not him."

Again his mother blinked at him blankly. "What? Not whom?"

"I'm not Pride anymore. I won't always act as he did. Conversely," he turned his head and met her gaze as directly as he could, "I'm not your Selim either. You need to realize that."

The frown that crossed her face surprised him. It was one he recognized, a firm set of her mouth that broadcasted that there would be no arguing with her.

"Don't you ever say that again! You are now and always will be my Selim, no matter how much you change." Then her voice softened. "You will always be my son."

He could only stare at her for several moments in wonder. He had not expected that.

"Why?" he finally found the presence to ask.

She smiled warmly. "Because that's what mothers do."

And she wasn't lying. He could tell by that solid gleam in her eye.

"Even if I'm a murderer and a monster?" he asked, still incredulous.

This time her frown looked reproachful. "Monsters don't risk everything for their friends."

And he couldn't really contest that.

"I'll never be the same," he said quietly. "You have to understand that," because he meant it in more ways than one, and all of them were completely true.

She seemed to catch the subtext.

"Then I'll just have to get to know the new you…once you're feeling up to it, of course."

Now that she did mention it, he did still feel a bit lethargic. But there was something else he still had to say to her.

"I, um, don't know if you'll understand how difficult this is for me to say, but…" he took a deep breath. This had to be said. "I am so sorry. I worried you, I ran off without consulting you, I…was afraid you would reject me once I started to regain my memories." He paused only for the barest moment to take another breath before continuing on. "I see now that I was wrong, and so I am sorry for not trusting you when I should have."

He sat there in silence, looking down at his hands, clenched together on the bed sheet as he waited for her to say something. Finally he heard her sigh.

"I can't say that I'm not upset or hurt by that," she said softly and he felt his hands tighten even more. Hurting her…that felt worse than anything else he'd ever done. "But it's not exactly unreasonable for you to think that either. Perhaps if I'd been more honest…but what's done is done."

He looked up at her and saw her shake her head in resignation before she met his gaze. "As long as I have your promise that you won't just go running off like that again, then we can consider this water under the bridge, ok?"

Somehow he couldn't really bring himself to explain why he couldn't ever do that again and so he just smiled at her and nodded.

"I promise."

They discussed several things that Selim felt he needed to catch up on after that. He asked her about Bonnie and Marlin and was surprised when she informed him that they came by to check on him too. Apparently they'd decided to stay in Central after all and start some sort of business. Selim suspected that there would be more to it than that, but it was nice to know that they hadn't been arrested but honored for their part in rescuing the hostages from the hotel.

Most of the members of the FFO that had been captured had been tried and their sentences ranged from a year of community service to a decade in prison. As far as his mother knew, though, Janet and her brother weren't among them. He wasn't sure that was a good thing. Those two still had a lot of hatred for the government.

He was about to ask about Johan when a bubbly, excited voice cut him off.

"Selim! You're awake!"

Despite the grim mood that had been present before her rather loud entrance, he couldn't help but shake his head and smile as he turned to face the doorway. She bounded towards him, curly hair bouncing and eyes sparkling in happiness. It was good to see her acting so normally, not lifeless and limp on the floor.

"Hey, Mandy," he said.

"You're looking a lot better," she grinned, leaning on the railing of the bed, not seeming to care that she had invaded his personal space. Again. Normally he would have rolled his eyes at her and told her to go sit down, but at that point he was just glad she was there.

"So are you."

She seemed to withdraw a little at that, although not out of discomfort. If anything, she seemed sad. "Yeah. I…can't thank you enough." She looked up at him, eyes earnest. "I wouldn't be here without you."

He didn't like that expression on her. Had she lost something too? "What do you remember?" he asked slowly.

She bit her lip and looked away. "I don't remember much, just a big white space and I think there was a door of some kind, but not much else. General Mustang said I was lucky to have those."

"Ah, yes," Selim muttered and slumped back against the pillows he'd propped up, unhappy at the turn of the conversation. "How is the good General?"

She shrugged either ignoring or not catching his sarcastic tone. "Ask him yourself. He'll be here to check up on you soon."

Selim couldn't help but hunker down into his blankets grumpily. "What joyful news."

Mandy rolled her eyes at him and punched his arm. "It's not going to be that bad. Lighten up."

"You forget. I tried to kill the man…on multiple occasions."

She shrugged. "Yeah. He'll get over it if you will. He seems to be that kind of guy."

"How on earth would you know?" Selim shot back.

Mandy was about to answer but a giggle from Mrs. Bradley stopped them both. They turned to look at her as she watched them, her shoulders shaking.

"Mom?" he asked slowly, not understanding what she could possibly be laughing at.

"I didn't know you two were such good friends!" she said after a moment, eyes twinkling.

Selim couldn't help but roll his eyes at that. "Please, Mom. Do you think that I would risk my life and give up my freedom for some random stranger?"

Both women seemed to freeze at that and then they turned to stare at him. He went over the words he'd just spoken (so Selim of him to do so) and wanted to slap his forehead.

"Give up what?" Mandy asked, voice tiny and breathless.

Selim sighed and shook his head. "Equivalent exchange. I had to give up something to get your soul back. My father originally needed a container to survive. To rid himself of that limitation he passed it on to me. When he died, my need for that container vanished with him. That is why I could travel to Xing." He turned to look out the window, unable to hide the wistfulness or sadness in his voice. "That is what The Gatekeeper took from me—my freedom and ability to move around outside of a contained section. It is why I couldn't wake up in New Optain."

The room remained silent and he could practically feel the horror and shock radiating from the two women.

"Oh, Selim," he heard his mother say.

"Why?" Mandy asked, her own voice strained. She looked pale and horrified.

The homunculus shook his head. "I don't regret it. I don't have many who I can truly call a 'friend', and for the first time in my existence, I can understand why so many people can unselfishly give of themselves to help or save another. That is something worth far more than what was taken from me."

He saw the tears in Mandy's eyes first and braced himself, inwardly already wincing. Surely enough, in the next moment, she rushed forward and threw her arms around him.

"I'm so sorry, Selim! I'll make it up to you! I swear! I…I don't know how, but I'll find a way! I promise!"

Selim sighed and resigned himself to this…unfortunate (and all too close) situation for the next several minutes. After all, it was better than the alternative.

xXx

Mustang came by not long after Mandy left, just as she'd said he would.

"So," a deep voice at the door drew both his and his mother's attention. He stood there casually, leaning against the door frame as if he didn't have a care in the world. Selim wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or offended that he didn't have his gloves out or an armed escort with him. Selim could see that he was still armed himself, and there was a small bulge in his pocket that had to be his gloves, so he wasn't completely helpless, but still.

He scowled and then sighed and looked back at the book he'd been reading a few moments before. "What do you want?"

"Is that the way to greet the person in charge of your parole?"

Oh, Selim did not like the sound of that.

"Parole?" he asked warily, "I haven't even been imprisoned."

"Precisely," Mustang said with a nonchalant shrug. "I talked the Fuehrer out of it."

This was only getting worse. Selim put down his book and gazed intently at the man standing before him. "Why would you do that?"

At that, the dark-haired man cocked his head to the side in contemplation. "Because," he finally responded, "you've changed. For the better, I must say. It was a nightmare convincing her of that, though."

And now Selim could only stare openly at him, surprise undoubtedly plain on his face.

"B-but, I almost killed you," he blurted.

"Right after you got all of your memories back. Mandy pointed out that you weren't exactly yourself, and you had a pretty good reason." But he still didn't like it. Selim could read that from the slight frown, which kind of made everything he was saying even more incredulous.

He couldn't really find anything to say, so he just continued to stare.

Finally, his mother spoke up. "Thank you, Roy, for everything you did for us."

The smile he shot her was nothing if not genuine. "You're welcome, ma'am."

She rolled her eyes. "I've told you before, call me Mary."

"Of course, Ma'am," he said, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. Then he sobered and looked back at a still troubled Selim. "I'm actually here to discuss terms and conditions. I've gone over these with the Fuehrer, and I doubt there will be many concessions in and above this, but I did what I could."

And Selim still didn't comprehend why.

"I don't understand," he said quietly, hands clenching at his blanket. "You hated me. You still don't trust me. Why are you doing this for me?"

Mustang must have seen that Selim wouldn't drop it because he sighed. "Because I owe your mom one. That…and you saved my subordinate. I don't know what you gave up…" he paused, waiting for Selim to say something, but he didn't so the General continued, "but you did it and you got her back. That counts for a lot in my book."

"Not enough to erase everything, though," Selim muttered.

The man shrugged. "It's a good start.

"So," he grabbed a folding chair that had been leaning against the wall. "First of all, you will work for the government. This is non-negotiable."

Selim snorted. "You want to keep an eye on me that badly?"

"Do you blame us?"

No, he really didn't, as much as he hated to admit it. "Fine, then. I join the military. As long as I don't have to kill or torture anyone, that's fine."

That seemed to take Mustang by surprise. He looked somewhat torn for a few moments but finally nodded, made a note and continued.

"Madam Fuehrer has put you in my team," he said sounding about as pleased as Selim felt, which is to say not at all. "Other than that, you may move about the city as you wish so long as you remain under supervision. There won't be many warnings."

"Don't lose my tails, got it," he muttered and waved for the General to continue.

"Any change in routine or situation will need to be reported, preferably beforehand, to me personally.

"Also, any sort of lawbreaking will be met with an extremely severe punishment. And that's it."

Yet again, the man had surprised him. "What?" he asked. "Just an escort and a change of profession and that's it?" He'd been expecting a lot more than that. Some type of imprisonment at night or little to no leeway in his daily routine. To say he was getting off easy for his crimes…well, understatement didn't begin to cover it. He wasn't exactly pleased with the restrictions he did have, but he ended up with far more freedom than he'd originally counted on, and that meant so much more to him now.

However, there was one thing he felt would need to change.

"I'd like to finish school," he finally said.

Mustang raised an eyebrow and sat back in his chair. "Why? You already know everything they teach there. You have what, 300 years of knowledge?"

"As a homunculus." Not as a human. He would need more preparation before he interacted with people on a more professional level. He was certain of this.

Mustang continued to watch him for a few seconds before he nodded his head. "I see your point. I'll discuss it with the Fuehrer. Is there anything else you would like me to take to her?"

He thought about it but eventually shook his head. "Just thank her for considering it."

The General studied him intently for a few more seconds before he nodded and rose. Then, cordially, he bowed to Selim's mom and then, to the homunculus' surprise, to him as well.

Selim wasn't sure what to make of the man's change of attitude towards him and could only watch in confusion as he walked out the door, leaving the two of them alone.