May 3rd, 1996

Life for the Closson family did not calm down at all in the immediate aftermath of Brandon's wedding. Not with Tore's inaugural ceremony and swearing in as the new President of the Military looming just a few days away. Dare was incredibly grateful that he did not have any additional assignments waiting for him back in North City until after the ceremony. His plane had been scheduled for detailed maintenance, and then he would be responsible for not only taking his family, and Gloria and Alexei, back to North City, but the four highest ranking Generals from Northern Headquarters, and Briggs, who had come in on the train, to attend that, and the meetings Tore would be having in the days immediately following. Ranking brass from all the major postings were coming in.

Which meant, at least for the next few days, that Dare and Lorraine were at his parents' disposal, outside of keeping an eye on the kids, and were happy to stay in the house. He was glad his parents seemed relieved to have them. Apparently having Brandon move his stuff out had finally convinced his mother that the nest was empty—except the cat—and she wasn't quite ready for that.

Dare hoped Brandon and Julia were having a great time at their lakeside resort honeymoon. When he had teased his brother about it, Brandon had made it clear that they had no intention of unintended offspring in the immediate future, so Dare was sure that in that, at least, they'd be careful. Brandon's restaurant was going to eat most of their lives for a while, particularly with them both working and the hours a restaurant ran. It was nearly as crazy as military scheduling could be, sometimes more-so.

Still, Dare was glad to be home and helping, even if he wasn't fully on leave. Being at Headquarters meant catching up on the latest advancements in airplane design, meetings with other commanding officers, and additional training. So, he was still in uniform when he got off duty that evening and stopped at the grocery store on the way home.

He had promised his mother he would handle the shopping that evening, so she and her father wouldn't have to worry about it. The General and the Assemblywoman hardly had free time.

Dare was choosing tomatoes when he heard a voice behind him.

"Excuse me, young man."

Dare turned around, and found himself looking at a short, slim grandmotherly looking woman with silver, curly hair that looked like it had once been darker, given the remaining hints of color. She looked startled, but also a little hopeful. "Can I help you ma'am?" Maybe she was lost, or looking for something in the store.

She hesitated. "Would you happen to be Darren Closson?"

Dare blinked. He had no idea who the woman was but, apparently, she had recognized him somehow. "I am, ma'am. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

He was not prepared for the startled tears in the woman's eyes as she looked up at him. "I thought you might be. You look… well, like your father at that age, particularly in the uniform. Though I only met him a few times." She clutched her hands together. "My name is Sharon Reynolds."

Reynolds. That name sounded familiar, though it took Dare several seconds to place it. Not that it was that uncommon a name. Then, he had it… he thought, and it gave him a moment's pause. "Reynolds… like, Cecilia Reynolds?"

The tears came faster, as she nodded. "So… he did tell you."

This woman was his grandmother, Dare realized. Or at least, he presumed so. At the very least she was a female relative. His father had never told him his biological grandparents' first names. But then, Dare had never asked. "Are you my grandmother?"

Sharon nodded, and pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes. "I'm sorry. You just… I never thought I would see you again, let alone recognize you. And I'm not even sure why I thought to approach you. I must be an unwelcome interruption."

"Not at all," Dare assured her. He had never felt much of anything about his birth mother's family. All of his memories started with his father, and even his early ones had his mother, Charisa, in them, even from before they got married. He still vaguely remembered her being 'Auntie 'Risa.' "I'm a little surprised," he admitted, smiling bemusedly. "But it's nice to meet you. Was there something specific you wanted?"

Sharon seemed to pull herself together. "I… wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. When my daughter… when she died, the way she did, I couldn't imagine raising you. I was still so… angry… at your father, for breaking off the engagement, at my own daughter, for choosing him in the first place, and then never telling him about you. She refused, not even to ask for support in raising you. We argued all the time, and then… then she was gone. All I have now are regrets, but I was so distraught, and…well. That's the past, but ever since we left you for adoption, I hoped that you were doing well. I didn't even know if your father had come for you, or if you had been adopted by another family. They wouldn't tell me."

"Then how did you know my last name is Closson?" Dare asked gently.

"I hoped, I suppose. I guessed," she admitted. "I'm sorry, Darren. I still feel responsible for much of my daughter's pain, and I can never tell her I'm sorry. And now… here I am pouring it all out on you. That doesn't seem fair either."

Dare reached out and took the woman's hand. "You should know, I'm not sorry. Dad came and got me the next day, and I have a life I'm proud of. I love my work, and my wife, and family. It may sound like bragging, but I think Dad did a great job with me, and my brother and sister. If you asked him, I think he'd tell you he doesn't regret what you did either. Not now."

"I don't think I could face him. Especially not now, given the circumstances." Sharon winced. "I expect my approaching him would only cause problems. But please, if you're willing, pass on my apologies to him as well and my… congratulations, for his success. I'm so relieved to know that your life has turned out to be a happy one."

"I'm sorry if I ever caused you grief," Dare replied calmly. "Please, don't feel bad about letting me go. I'm glad you did, though I am also glad to know you now." Not that he expected to see her again, and he doubted she would seek him out after this.

Sharon's expression of relief filled him with a sense of peace, even in the middle of an awkward meeting. "I have… a few photos at home, of you and… and Cecilia. If you'd like them, I could try and send them to you."

Photos, real baby pictures of himself, and his birth mother. Dare had only ever seen one picture of Cecilia Reynolds. It was a snapshot of her and his father someone else had taken at a party. Perhaps not the most matronly of pictures. The busty blond girl with his father in the picture had looked like she might pop out of the low-cut black shirt she was wearing. There had definitely been a party-girl vibe to the image, and from the few details his father had given him—when he was older—about their relationship, that was most of what they had done. Dare couldn't imagine his father with anyone other than his mother. Still… she was making an offering, and he had to admit he was curious. "I'd like that." He pulled out the shopping list and tore off a few lines at the bottom. Then he scribbled down the general office address for the office he reported to at Headquarters. "If you send them here, I'll get them." He didn't think giving her a personal address was the best move. This should be a good interim.

"I'll do that." Sharon nodded, sticking the paper carefully into her wallet, and then her purse. "I should let you be but… it was nice to meet you, again, Darren."

"It was nice to meet you… Grandmother."

Edward had not expected to get much private time with Tore and his family over the next week, so he was pleased when they insisted on having him, Winry, Alphonse, and Elicia over for dinner one night. Dare and Lorraine had done the shopping, and the cooking, and it was just the ten of them in the house.

Ten people, and the cat, Edward noticed with some amusement as they sat around the living room after dinner. The big, elderly pile of orange stripes had planted himself on Alphonse's lap, as if he knew full well who the biggest cat lover was. Alphonse, of course, had no complaints at all.

Lorraine vanished upstairs to put the kids to bed, and Dare into the kitchen, insisting he could handle the dishes and the rest of them should enjoy resting and socializing.

Edward would have snarked back about the implication that they were too old, but he really didn't want to wash dishes either. He was much more interested in Tore's plans as he stepped into one of the most powerful positions in the country. "I'm not going to ask if you're ready for next week," he commented at a pause in the general conversation over after-dinner coffee. "Though I'm very curious how you've decided to handle the job."

Tore didn't look one bit surprised at the question. "My way of course," he replied with a smile that was cocky, confident, and at least partially feigned. "I warned Anastas and the Assembly when they offered me the promotion that I was going to do this my way. I refuse to hide who I am, or my views on what's going on. While this is a time for caution, I don't want the enemy to see us being cautious."

"So, you're going to play up the show and make them look where you want them to look." Edward like that idea.

Tore nodded. "I haven't thought of much else since I told Anastas I'd take the promotion. Pulling back, playing it safe, playing by the rules isn't getting us anywhere. Besides, that's not what you trained the State Alchemists to do. What your generation accomplished, the sheer amount of change you pretty much shoved the country through, shaped everything, not just the State Alchemist program itself. Especially not Mustang or Breda. They were both brilliant, and a little crazy, but what they did nearly always worked because what they did have, especially then, was the loyalty and trust of the military and most of the Amestrian people. We need that back, and I have a few ideas on how to do it." Tore paused for a drink. "This is about to get very loud, and very public. I'm not going to let Arsenic, whoever they really are, tear things apart. I am about to call them out, call their bluff, and draw a lot of lines in the sand. So, I'll understand if you'd rather keep a low profile, seeing as they've already tried to kill you once."

Edward snorted, even as Alphonse made a noise of clear objection, and Winry and Elicia did the same. "Not a chance," he said what he knew they were all thinking. "You're right. They've already gone after us once. There's no reason to think they might not again anyway. Let them know we support you in this. Hell, I'm all in, and I meant what I said before. If there's any way we can help more directly, just ask."

"Even if that's just us sitting in a very conspicuous and public spot next week," Winry added on.

Edward refrained from shaking his head. He knew she didn't want him getting involved in this. He pushed on, with a grin. "As President of the Military, you have the right to call up any officer—even retired ones—in the service of the country when needed."

He could tell Tore got the meaning. The younger man grinned. "I think I'd enjoy ordering you around. In fact, stick around a few days after the inauguration. I have some things I'd love to have both of you look at for patterns and information. If I remember correctly, you're infamously good at that."

Now that was what Edward wanted to hear. "Count me in. Al?"

His brother rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Anything to help," he agreed. "And at least we'll be sitting safely somewhere, not running all over the countryside."

Edward watched Winry's mouth close on what was surely going to have been an objection.

Elicia chuckled. "We don't have to get back immediately."

There was definite relief on Tore's face. "Thank you. All of you. This means a lot to me."

"To both of us," Charisa chimed in.

Tore nodded, and for just a moment he looked mildly abashed. "For more than your being here for this," he continued, meeting Edward's eyes. "I don't think I've ever told you just how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"Tore, you've said thank you to us countless times," Winry pointed out, smiling kindly.

"Not for this." Tore looked at Winry, and shook his head. "Not in words. It took me a long time to fully realize it myself. Somewhere over the years, I stopped thinking of you as my foster parents, as… temporary caretakers, mentors." His gaze came back to Edward. "Somewhere, in everything we've been through, you just became my parents."

Edward felt a welling of emotion that mildly surprised him. Of course, he and Winry had stopped thinking of Tore as a foster son decades ago. With him, family was just family, and from the day they agreed to take Tore in to their home, he had been part of their hearts. Edward had a terrible soft spot for troubled, difficult boys and—obviously—so did Winry. But Tore had known his mother for eleven years, and lost her, and always held his parents close in his heart, even the father he'd never met, but who had intended to marry his mother before his untimely death.

Edward had never wanted to encroach on that part of Tore's heart. He had let him call him Teacher, and Fullmetal, but they had never tried to force any kind of familial bond. That had come in its own time, in its own way. Though if Edward had to put a finger on the moment Tore had really started treating them like his parents, it was the morning a very hungover young man had shown up on his doorstep, lost and terrified, agonizing over the fact that that the girl he'd broken up with over a year-and-a-half before had hung herself, and unsure of what to do about the son he had just found out existed. In that moment, his instincts had brought him right home, even if he had insisted on going his own way in living on his own and raising Dare. Emotionally, he had probably caused Edward more anxiety than all three of his other kids combined, but he loved him as a son anyway.

Winry apparently felt the same, though she didn't stop to ruminate. She had already come out of her seat, crossed the floor, and enfolded Tore in a huge hug that he was returning. She didn't say anything, but then she didn't really need to, did she?

Edward did take his turn, though he had to wait for Winry to decide she was done first. "You've been my son since the day we decided to take you in," he said very softly as they hugged.

"I know," Tore replied just as quietly. "It just took me a long time to figure that out... and even longer to say it."

May 5th, 1996

Two days until the ceremony in which Tore would officially replace Anastas as President of the Military. Fifty-four years after his father-in-law had taken the position, though not quite to the day. Breda had been sworn in in early April. Three other top-ranking generals had attained that rank between them.

For someone who didn't have to plan the ceremony himself, Tore was awfully busy. Mostly because he not only had to keep doing his own job, he had to appoint his own replacement, and determine any changes he wanted to make to the staff. They had also left the appointment of the next ranking officer in Investigations to him as well.

Taking the advice of several people he had talked to, he had already determined both, and he wasn't going to worry about appearance of favoritism if the appointees were qualified. Let people consider the implications of his choices.

Not that his choice to take over the State Alchemists Department was likely to cause many raised eyebrows. Tore was promoting Felix Tringham into the position. The Genesis Alchemist was experienced both at individual and team missions, but also with command. He had a clear, steady head, and was about as stable and trustworthy as a State Alchemist could be. He also wouldn't resent being placed in a primarily desk position, and Tore knew he could trust him completely.

The more difficult one to pass off without comment would be his plan to appoint James Heimler to the ranking officer position over Investigations. On paper, it made perfect sense. He had worked for Anastas there for most of his career. He had been third in the office—immediately under Volkhart—in command until he had followed Anastas to the President's office, when his father had been put in the other position. Now, there was no conflict of interest. Only the fact that he was Franz' son would cause comment. After what had happened with Volkhart, however, no one would be able or willing to claim that Heimler was not a safe choice. He would clearly never have been involved with a group that would have attempted to take out his own father, or Anastas. No one in Central—or really, any of the ranking officers in Amestris—would have believed it even if he were accused.

Tore wanted it made clear very early that he wasn't worried about what people thought. He would appoint whoever he thought it was best to appoint and promote, and if they wanted to get anywhere, they were going to have to come to him, not expect him to kowtow to their opinions and demands. They took orders from the President of the Military, not the other way around.

The details of the ceremony, the writing of his speech, the State Dinner that would be held that night in the President's Ballroom in the old mansion, all of that was a flurry of activity that Tore was still expected to agree to, and approve or not approve a wide variety of decisions. Decisions he delegated to his incoming secretary whenever possible.

Choosing his own full staff had been an entirely different matter. Tore couldn't afford to deplete the entire State Alchemist corps to fill his staff, even if he had wanted to, but he didn't dare take a single person even recommended by someone he thought he could trust, without thorough investigation.

That didn't mean he hadn't brought a couple of them with him. The first, and most critical of his staffing choices, had been to appoint the Sensation Alchemist, Caroline Flynn, his head secretary, which made her his Head of Staff. Her focus in diplomacy, and her ability to manipulate the senses, and even mildly affect moods, was invaluable. Even without alchemy, she was excellent at reading people, and getting them to speak the truth. As excellently as she had performed in the field in both portions of their involvement in Drachma, he had been a little afraid she wouldn't want the job, but Flynn had been very eager to accept the position, and to help with filling out the rest of the staffing necessities. Her alchemy, while it couldn't force information out of people, could put them in a state where they were heavily inclined to tell the absolute truth. She would not allow anyone on his staff who was disloyal, or a definite member of Arsenic.

Thanks to that ability, and the people Tore knew, and others he felt could be trusted to help him pick, Tore was able to flesh out the rest of his staffing needs by retaining a portion of Anastas and Franz' staffers that they could be absolutely sure about, and then very careful selection from other departments. Jean Stevens had offered him two of his own staffers.

By the time Tore got home that evening, he was exhausted, but he had a team he wasn't worried about trying to murder him in his office.

It was still weird to think of that place as his office.

The wonderful smell of dinner wafting through the house met his nose as Tore stepped in, and took off his uniform jacket to hang near the door. Dare's jacket already there told him his son had beaten him home. "Something smells heavenly," he commented as he stepped into the living room, so he could sit down on the couch to remove his boots.

Dare was already there, though he had already changed into civilian clothes, and was standing there. He held an envelope, which he was just opening.

"What's that?" Tore asked as he looked at the envelope in his son's hand. "Getting mail while you're here?"

Dare looked over at him. "Sort of. I… ran into my grandmother two days ago."

Tore froze. His mother was decades dead. Charisa's mothers, both of them, the same. Which meant it could, truly, only be one person. "You mean…"

Dare nodded. "Sharon Reynolds recognized me at the grocers the other day, when I went to get the groceries that Mom wanted. She wanted to tell me she was sorry for giving me up the way they did and… how much she regretted how things went, and she wanted to apologize to you. I planned to tell you after we got through the ceremony."

Which would have been a slightly less stressful time to find out, Tore had to admit. "What did you tell her?"

"That I appreciated her apology, but that I was grateful she did." Dare smiled. "That my life with you turned out to be great, and I love what I'm doing, and the family I have. I mean, it's not like I even remember them. My memories start with you."

Tore felt warmed by that, even though he had known for years that his son loved him. "Well, it's always nice to be reminded that I managed not to screw things up." Those first years had been rough. Though, in retrospect, they had probably been rougher on him than on Dare. He had done everything he could to make Dare's life stable and happy.

Dare continued, still smiling. "Anyway, she offered to give me some photos she had of… of me and Cecilia. I don't know if they were a peace offering, or if she just really thought I might want them, but I was curious. I've seen only one picture of her and… well, I wanted them. You don't have to look at them if you don't want to, Dad. I don't want to make this weird."

Tore had wondered, for a long time, just what kind of a mother Cecilia had turned out to be, for the year that she was one. He had never gotten to ask her about it, or apologize for her spending that year raising Dare alone. Of course, she had never reached out to him, not even to demand some kind of child support. That didn't make it better. "No, I'd like to see them."

Dare looked surprised at his response, but he nodded. "All right. Then let's take a look."

When the pictures were laid out on the dining table, Tore had to admit that maybe he wasn't as ready to see them as he had thought; not even after all these years.

They weren't just baby pictures… and there were dates on the back. One of them was about three months after they broke up, clearly at a baby shower. Cecilia was smiling at a baby outfit she had just unwrapped, her belly already notably round. Had she been starting to show at all when he broke off their relationship? Tore didn't think so, but he was ashamed to admit he might not have noticed.

Another picture, dated just a couple of days before Dare's birthday, another candid shot, this one just sitting on a couch somewhere he did not recognize, looking ready to pop at any moment. Her straw-blonde hair even thicker than he remembered, pulled back in a braid. He didn't ever remember her braiding her hair.

The next picture, dated Dare's birthday, was of Cecilia holding a tiny newborn, already with a fluff of thin dark curls, looking down at the baby with a look of awe on her face. From there, they got a little easier. Cecilia giving Dare a bath. Cecilia putting him in a stroller. Tore had never seen her look so peaceful, or so focused on someone else, not in all the time they had been a couple. Then there were several pictures of Dare by himself, presuming taken by Cecilia. The last was dated a week before his first birthday, and was recognizable, clearly, as the baby he had brought home from the foster care office.

Tore's throat closed, and his eyes stung. These don't tell me anything, Ces. I don't see how you could have done it. You loved him. I can tell you loved him… but was it for him, or for you?

"Dad?" Dare was looking at him, worried. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have…"

"No. It's…" Tore wiped his eyes quickly with his hand. "I didn't think I'd feel anything, after so long. What do you think?"

"I think she looks a little more like me than I thought," Dare admitted. "Even though I definitely got your hair and eyes. Mostly I take after you. Mrs. Reynolds actually said she thought it was me because I look like you." He started picking the photos back up off the table. "I'll take them home with me, unless you want any of them?"

"No. You should have them," Tore agreed at once. The last thing he needed was reminders of Cecilia in the house. Besides, now that he was taking over the office of the President, there really didn't need to be reminders that his eldest son, the respected military pilot, was technically illegitimate, for all the difference that made. To Tore, it didn't matter, but to some people, it might matter quite a bit. More importantly, the relationship he'd had with Cecilia was something someone might find a way to manipulate to come back to bite him. "She's your mother."

"Mom is my mother," Dare replied with a soft, quiet conviction. "But I think, when I look at these, she was at least trying. It must have been hard for her." He placed the photos back in the envelope. "Anyway. Mom put dinner in the oven before she and Lorraine took the kids down the street to play at the park. They should be back soon."

A good excuse for a change of topic. "I'll go get changed."

Dare nodded. "And I'll go check on the food."

Tore could tell from the look on Charisa's face as she joined him in the bedroom that evening that she had also seen the photos. She had a sympathetic expression as she sat down next to him. He had come upstairs early, showered, and now lay on the bed in boxers and an undershirt, his usual sleeping attire—if they didn't fall asleep naked.

"You saw them," he commented, not making it a question.

Charisa nodded. "Yes, Dare showed them to me. They're cute pictures of him, and it's nice of Mrs. Reynolds to give them to him and… to apologize, however late that might be. It sounds like she's done a lot of thinking since she lost her daughter." There was a note of sympathy there as well, that would have surprised Tore, except that Charisa was an incredibly forgiving and understanding person.

The way she said that though. Tore could imagine the horrible pain of losing a child. He had felt it nearly when Dare was young, and had been treated for hemolytia, the same bloodborne illness that had killed Tore's mother. Even having broken up with Cecilia, it had ripped at his heart to know she had killed herself, leaving their son alone, without ever even coming to him to see if he would help her. "I still feel like it's partly my fault," he admitted. "Not that I've thought about it in a long time… or her, and then I wonder if I should feel bad that."

"Any other regrets?" Charisa asked patiently.

"Only if you count the whole relationship, short as it was." And in retrospect, those months did feel incredibly short, now that he had more than two decades of marriage to compare it to. "The fact that I didn't even really remember her from school should have been a red flag from day one. I still think I was right to end it when I did. And… I can't regret all of it … because I wouldn't have Dare, and he's one of the most important people in my life. Without him… I don't know how or when I would have pulled it all back together." He felt across the blanket, taking Charisa's hand in his, and squeezing it. "In a way, he led me back to you, even if the timing was a mess, and he's an incredible person that I'm proud to have as a son. But it's still enough to give me a headache."

Charisa leaned over, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "And he's proud to have you for a father. They all are, and I'm incredibly proud of you, too. Look how far you've managed to come from then, and I am the incredibly successful and fortunate woman who gets to be with you for all of it."

Tore smiled up at her, before reaching up and grabbing her with his arms, full of gratitude that anytime he needed a lift, she was there. He pulled her down beside him and kissed her soundly. "Aren't you glad you said yes?"