November 24th, 1996

Tore had never wanted to have to be an expert on international law. Fortunately, he was married to one, because the last several weeks had required him to get very knowledgeable very quickly.

Intelligence had been working around the clock questioning every single member of the group known as Arsenic that had been captured during their ill-executed attack on Central itself. Thousands of hours, leading to dozens more names, leading to dozens of locations with labs, stashed piles of equipment, financial contributors and money trails leading to specific mines, and more names, and more people. The conspiracy ran deep, and it was unsurprising when its roots started creeping out beyond the Amestrian borders, if only to find the criminal elements from which they had bought supplies that had not been found missing anywhere.

While no methods of torture had been used, the questioning had been very thorough. Injured enemies had been treated and all moved into a single ward in the military hospital. One that had basically become a jail ward for the time being, until they were released to regular prisons.

Now, over a month later, the Courts Martial had heard and decided the fates of over seventy-five members of the Amestrian military. The civil courts had tried and sentenced nine members of the assembly, fifteen assembly staffers, and over a hundred civilians.

In the end, only a handful had been found culpable enough to be considered responsible for major decision making, and would need to be tried at the International Tribunal Court that was set to start today.

Among them were a handful of ranking military officers, two incredibly wealthy contributors with markets in several countries, Vera, and Creta and Drachma had insisted that Volkhart's work included enough international espionage and sabotage from within Amestris that she, too, would have to be retried in the higher court. Her life sentence in Amestrian prison might stand, or it might be judged too lenient.

In all cases, it made Tore uneasy. It was one thing to kill someone in the heat of battle, when you were trying to kill each other. Then it was often kill or be killed, if you could not capture or disable the enemy. He had learned that lesson well in war.

Sentencing people to die, and having their lives ended for their crimes, implied that some people could not be saved, or they were too dangerous to let loose and would not be redeemed. Somehow, after all this time, the truth of that still bothered him.

At least he wasn't the one actually sentencing them to their deaths, though that was a cold comfort. Still, justice had to be done, or there would just be more dissidence, more conflict and division. They couldn't afford that. Several internationals found among the enemy, mostly former members of the disbanded Hashman Syndicate were going to be deported back to their own countries for private sentencing that would be on top of what was for this crime, but for previous crimes they had avoided punishment for. Tore did not envy them.

The international leaders in attendance—flown in without incident—had only arrived quietly that morning. Tore was not willing to take any risks with VIPs from any country in the immediate future, even if he was growing more confident by the day that they had everyone of any real influence in the group the world knew as Arsenic for the symbol they used. A group that had, as it turned out, never had an official name. They had never planned on claiming public credit for their acts, remaining out of sight until they managed their takeover.

If they had managed to keep control of Vera, they might have succeeded. Her drive for revenge, her wild-card tendencies, had come out hard when Volkhart failed to secure the Presidency. That had been their primary political ploy. Without a functional plan B, the rest of the military officers of any rank had not been able to agree on a suitable replacement yet. It had taken years of careful play to get as far as they had with the first one. Vera, and many of the regular dissidents in the syndicate, had not had the patience to wait longer.

The fact that they had managed to keep it all secret for so many years was, in some ways, almost unbelievable, yet Tore had now seen the tracks and lengths they had gone through to keep it that way, and he had to admit it was impressive. If they had not uncovered the truth in time… the plans might very well have succeeded.

He'd only had to nearly die from poisoning to expose the first plot, which had landed him in this position in the first place. There were days Tore wasn't sure the promotion wasn't a punishment, but he had definitely made the most of it.

At the moment he stood in a private meeting room on the first floor of main Assembly building. One of their medium sized meeting halls had been repurposed for this first International Tribunal, as it would hold all of the judges at the front, with room for anyone else who needed to be in the room. Observers would sit in the tiered seats that went up in concentric semi-circles.

The room Tore waited in was meant for small deliberative meetings, but it was also a good place for the President of the Amestrian Military to meet the recently arrived heads of the other countries before they went in to watch the initial proceedings.

In theory this would be a solemn and formal moment. In reality, Tore suspected less formality, except perhaps where it came to meeting General Marskaya, whom Tore had not had the opportunity to meet in person previously. Thrakos Argyros was a family friend, and married to an Elric. Gavril Mihalov had been to Central during the Civil War, rescued by Ted Elric, and presented the Drachman cause to the assembled dignitaries of countries that had begun the very early discussions that had led to the more recent Accords after the re-establishment of a stable leading body of the new Drachman governments, headed by the G.R.I.D. and its four presidents, one from each new Drachman state. Though Tore had met the man before that too, on a previous diplomatic vision to Drachma years ago, in which he had been in charge of Amestrian security. The man was a friend of Trisha and Roy Mustang.

Not that Tore had to wait long to officially meet Marskaya, as the door opened and all three men were escorted in. Their security details waited outside.

Tore smiled as they approached. "Welcome to Amestris, gentlemen. While I could wish we were here under less serious circumstances, I look forward to working with you all during your stay, as we make history and set a hopefully positive precedent for international law and cooperation."

"It's my honor to be here," Thrakos replied smoothly, though the twinkle in his eye said he was amused by their need to carry through with formalities, if only for the sake of history. "It will be an excellent chance to prove to my country that they have placed their trust in the right direction."

"That's about all one can hope for," Gavril Mihalov agreed amiably. "We can all agree that this is in everyone's best interest."

"Which is why we are here." General Marskaya nodded. The oldest man in the room, and the only other one of them with military experience. He had been a general during the war in which Drachma had invaded Amestris. The war in which Tore, barely an adult, had first learned the atrocities of the battlefield. Yet it had been made clear to him, by Charisa, by Ted and Roy, and by Anika of course, that it was service Marskaya had done out of duty to his country, and that he had opposed the invasion, even as he had not been willing to sacrifice his career or the safety of his family to resign his commission. Tore had to admit, he could not blame the man for that.

Tore nodded, and they all exchanged handshakes. "Indeed, it is, and I hope that with several of the continent's most trusted legal minds in one place, this will provide much needed justice in a way that puts groups like Arsenic out of business for good, for a lack of recruits, and hopefully a little fear."

Thrakos grinned. "Here's to that. I hope they get what's coming to them, and it's a good thing we aren't the judges, or none of them would have a chance, would they?"

"Honestly, probably not," Mihalov agreed. "As much infighting as Drachma had over the years, and the number of governments we've had even in just our lifetimes, I'm out of patients for terrorist organizations."

"Again, something on which we can all agree," Marskaya nodded. "Shall we proceed?"

Tore nodded, and gestured towards the other on the other side of the room, opposite the one they had entered. "This way, gentleman. Let's watch justice in action."

The day seemed interminable to Anika, and not just because she was tired, and they had spent most of the day at work doing veterinary checkups on all of the cats, and updating the enrichment of their habitats. No, she knew, through Ted, that her father had arrived with Mihalov that morning on a plane for the proceedings. Tonight, she would see her father again. They had spoken through letters, and on the phone a couple of times, since she had left Petrayevka months ago, but it would be different, and wonderful, to finally have him visit her home in Central. He had promised to come over in the evening. Mihalov would be coming as well, but Anika was looking forward to that as well. She and Ted had made friends, of sorts, with the man when they had rescued him several years ago, and they had enjoyed visiting his family in Petrayevka on their last visit.

With all that planned, when Anika got off work, there wasn't time to crash for a nap. Nikolai, just turned six, was out of school, and she picked him up from the friend's house where he stayed after school until work was over, and Eurion, who was almost two-and-a-half, from daycare, and hurried home to make sure dinner was ready.

She arrived home to find that she need not have worried about having something worthy of her father ready. Ted had beaten her home, and the kitchen smelled amazing. It turned out to be his family's stew recipe, warm rolls, and freshly baking apple pies.

"You are my hero," Anika kissed his cheek.

Ted grinned. "Because it will impress your dad, or because you're hungrier than a hunting tiger?"

"Most assuredly both."

Ted turned away from the stove and pulled her into a gentle embrace. "Well, I can't have that now, can I?" He kissed her gently. "Stew will be ready soon, but the rolls are fresh if you need something immediately."

"I might take you up on that. Though I'm going to change before our guests arrive." Anika was quite willing to take a fresh warm roll from the basket and nibble on it as she headed up to the bedroom. She could hear the boys, still downstairs, babbling at Ted about their day.

She had just enough time to wash up and change before she heard the door downstairs, and voices she recognized. Anika had to stop for a moment, and just listen to the beautiful music of everyone in her house speaking Drachman, even the boys, who were babbling at their new audience. Anika slipped on loose comfortable leggings and a long tunic dress in a Drachman style, in rich jewel-toned blue and trimmed in embroidery on the hems, then comfortable house slippers, and headed downstairs.

Her father and Gavril Mihalov were still standing with Ted in the living room. Her father looked up as she descended the stairs, and his eyes lit up as she descended. :My radiant daughter!: he enfolded her in an enthusiastic, but gentle hug.

:Welcome to our home,: Anika replied, returning the hug just as eagerly. :It's so good to see you again. Both of you,: she added as she released her father, and looked to Gavril Mihalov. :I hope your family is well.:

:Very well,: Gavril replied with a sincere smile as they shook hands. :My daughter is quite jealous that I wouldn't let her skip potentially weeks of school to come to Amestris. I promised her that, if there is ever an opportunity, we will make a family visit of it… and that I would bring back gifts.:

Anika chuckled. :I am certain I can help you find some uniquely Amestrian items that your daughter and wife would appreciate, when you have time, of course. Shall we eat?:

:Which may be a while,: Gavril conceded as they all moved towards the dinner table. :Yes, please. It's been quite a day.:

There was no discussion of politics over dinner, though Anika knew Ted was dying for news. She was also incredibly curious about the hearings, but it was not something to discuss in front of the boys. So, it was only after everyone was full, and the boys were tucked into bed upstairs, that they reconvened in the living room.

:So, how was the first day?: Ted asked without preamble when they were all settled.

:Groundbreaking,: her father replied without hesitation as he sipped a cup of tea. :As unpleasant as the situation is, the first day of hearings went very smoothly. They started today with those members of Arsenic specifically identified as having been part of the team that attacked the train in Creta. There are only four still alive, so it shouldn't take terribly long to start with them.:

:Who is providing the accused council?: Anika asked. If Ted knew, he hadn't mentioned it.

:They have been provided counsel,: Gavril replied. :With the option to choose from those provided by each of the Accord member nations, so in this case, none of them have chosen counsel from Creta.:

:Nor Amestris or Drachma, for that matter,: Marskaya added. :Not that I can say I'm surprised. The defense has done a respectable job of presenting the grievances, though I do not imagine anyone will be found innocent with the body of evidence provided against them, particularly as several have confessed to taking part. The only outcome unknown will be the severity of sentencing in most of these cases.:

:Any thoughts on how many executions we may be looking at, when it's all over?: Ted asked.

:Not yet.: Gavril shook his head. :There is still the likelihood that many of them will simply spend their lives in prison, working to repay their debts to society, but the decisions will be up to the judges, not to politicians, military leaders, or the public. So the results should be as fair and based in law as it is possible for them to be.:

:Better than they deserve,: Ted replied, though he nodded. :But it's the best way.:

:What are your thoughts?: Anika's father asked Ted. :Particularly regarding the homunculus?"

The homunculus he called her, as if she was not also a person. Of course, Anika had to admit she didn't necessarily understand how becoming a homunculus worked, and if it meant that Vera really was no longer human. In either case, the person she had fought had been a human at one point, and she had certainly spoken and reasoned like a person. Crazy…but not an animal. She looked at Ted. He had known Vera years ago, and she suspected that was more her father's point.

:I haven't spoken to her since the attack, if that's what you're asking.: Ted frowned. :Honestly, I don't think there's any way she'll be allowed to live. Even worn down as she is, and the tail broken off, rendering her mostly harmless, she's not safe, and as far as she's gone, I'm not sure she's recoverable. The woman we fought was crazy. I suppose they could try and get her off on an insanity plea for a life sentence instead of execution, but to what end? Even your way of speaking about her implies that she may no longer be considered human by some of the judges. Homunculi, and even chimeras, have never had clear rights in any legal system. Functionally, they've historically been treated as creations, the property of the people who made them, or the government that funded the research. Then there's the fear factor. If you want to know more about the actual make-up of a homunculus, you'd be better off talking to my grandfather. Of course, the last time Amestris had to deal with homunculi, they were also a destructive enemy, and they were dealt with by being killed. Which, I suppose, sets a precedent.:

The two older men both nodded, but still looked curious. :What about her as a person? This…Vera. You knew her once. She specifically went out of her way to try to kill both of you.:

Anika watched her husband. She knew he hated talking about that part of his life, short as it had been, and even though she knew all of it.

:She used to be a State Alchemist. We worked together. She blames me for the death of our colleague she had an attraction for. He died in combat in Xing. Apparently, in the years since, somewhere in there she lost it… I don't know where, or when. She wouldn't talk to me and then she moved after she got out of the military. We did use her hatred of me as a way to sneak in a spy, though I can't divulge the details of that mission as it's still classified. But… it worked. Apparently, her anger at me was just even more intense, and she was willing to do whatever she could to ruin me, even if it exposed all of Arsenic. It's crazy. Though I suppose you'll hear this all in more detail in the next few weeks. I've been asked to testify during Vera's trial.:

He didn't look at her, but Anika knew he had been waiting to drop this particular detail. It was the first time he had mentioned it. Not that she was at all surprised. He was the only remaining living member of the original team. That, and they had been attacked. Anika was not being asked to speak at the trial, thankfully, though the military already had her full statement on what had happened. They could change their minds on that, but so far, they had not.

:Then I'm sure we will.: Her father sipped his coffee. :Hopefully, this will put an end to this mess. I, for one, would like to lead an uneventful life until my re-retirement.:

:And what would you do with yourself, Papa?: Anika asked with a soft chuckle. :You don't know how to sit around and relax.:

:Perhaps I do not,: the general agreed. :But I am certain traveling to see you more often would be a benefit, as well as more time to spend with your brothers and their families. Niki and Kirill will both be married by next summer; I'd bet my favorite saber on it.:

:Then we will have to come for another visit or two.: Anika would not miss her brothers' weddings if she could help it, even if it meant taking another train to Petrayevka. Without Arsenic, surely there would be nothing to worry about. At least, she would keep telling herself that. :Though they had better have the courtesy to wait until we can make the trip.:

:I'm sure they can be convinced.:

Anika smiled. It would be nice to see all of her brothers happy and settled. Though imagining Kirill settled took some imagining. Niki had always been the most charming and jovial of her siblings. :Have you seen Dinara recently?: The question was addressed more at Gavril, who had known Mrs. Volkova long before she ran the zoo. :I got a letter from her the other day.: While Fyo and Liena had chosen to remain at the zoo in Central, Anika had not been surprised that the older woman had wanted to return to Petrayevka, and take back up a position where she had worked for decades. The newly improved and reopened zoo was a triumph.

Gavril nodded, smiling. :As a matter of fact, Darya and I had her over for dinner last week. She's doing a fantastic job with the zoo, as we knew she would of course.:

:Does she really have a new beau?:

Gavril looked startled a moment, then laughed. :As a matter of fact, she does. Nice gentleman, about her age. He's a retired zoology professor who volunteers at the zoo giving animal talks.:

:How perfect!: Anika couldn't help but be amused at the appropriateness of such a match. All Dinara had mentioned was that she had a new friend whose company she enjoyed. Anika had read between the lines correctly. :Good for her.: Her husband had been gone a long time. It was nice that she had at least found company. Then she looked at her father, and didn't bother hiding a curious smile. :And what about you? If all of your children will be settled and independent, is there someone you're interested in pursuing?:

She had definitely caught her father off guard. He looked startled, though if she had flustered him, he hid it well. He had always been good at that. Anika knew it was not a question her brothers would have asked him, and Anika knew that her father would always love her mother, but she had been gone for a long time. She could tell that her father was lonely, but she had wondered if he would ever do anything to alleviate that loneliness.

Of course, they were not in private. Not really. Ted seemed just as surprised by the question. Gavril just looked quietly amused.

:I have… given the idea some thought,: Vichel Marskaya admitted. :But no, there is not someone, at present, that I would consider.:

Which meant that, should the right woman present herself, he might consider it, but that was all she was getting out of him. Anika accepted that. :Well if it ever happens, Papa, I expect you to tell me.:

Ted had not minded when the conversation had shifted from politics to personal life, but he had been surprised by the question Anika asked her father. He had never considered the general in that light. So, he waited until after the evening ended, and Gavril Mihalov and Ted's father-in-law had returned to the Drachman Embassy before asking his wife about it as they got ready for bed.

Anika smiled at the query. "It just seems a natural question. Mother died when we were all much younger, and as far as I am aware, Papa has not pursued any romantic interest since then. He loved my mother, but I do not like seeing him lonely. We are all grown, so it's not as if he needs to concern himself too much with us in his choice. Surely, he would not be interested in someone we would have reason to dislike."

"What if she turns out to be our age?"

Anika turned to stare at him, her nightgown still only halfway buttoned. The horror in her expression made it hard to keep a laugh inside. "He wouldn't!"

Ted shrugged as he stepped up and starting finishing the buttons for her. "Love doesn't have to make sense, tsveta. Weirder things have happened. But what would you do if she was a perfectly nice woman who was that young?"

"I hadn't thought about it," Anika admitted, then swatted absently at his hands. "I can do my own buttons."

"But then I don't get my hands on you." Ted grinned, though he did stop. "Isn't that where you prefer them?"

Anika shook her head, but she smiled. "Often, but not tonight. It's been a long day." There was a moment where the smile slipped, and she looked tired.

Ted felt a flash of guilt. Of course, she was tired, but there was something else. "Did something happen at work today?"

"Work was fine." Anika finished the buttons. "But… I'm worried about Liena and Fyo."

Ted stripped to get ready for bed as Anika sat down on her side. "Are they still fighting about going home?" While Mrs. Volkova had gone back to work in Drachma as soon as the zoo was ready late last spring, their two other friends, who had started dating in the years since arriving in Drachma, were of two different minds on the matter. Liena wanted to stay in Amestris, but Fyo wanted to go back to Drachma.

Anika nodded. "Liena was upset this morning. They had another fight last night about it, and Fyo suggested that if they couldn't agree, maybe they should just go their separate ways." Now she looked upset. "Before the zoo reopened, Liena was convinced Fyo was going to propose and they would settle here, like we have. Now… oh, Ted, it's awful. I feel bad for both of them."

Ted pulled on his shorts and joined her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I do too," he admitted. Watching their friends argue was painful, especially when he understood both sides. Neither he nor Anika had been asked to take a side, which he appreciated, but there were only so many things he could say or do to help. Everyone had to make their own choices. He and Anika had made the decision that was best for them, and for their family, but that didn't make it right for everyone. "Do you want me to try talking to Fyo? I don't know if it'll help, but if he's already suggesting they break up… it can't hurt."

"Please?" Anika looked up at him, tears in the corners of her eyes. "I've tried talking to both of them, and the mot I can do is listen to them vent. Of course, that means I mostly hear from Liena these days. I think Fyo's avoiding me because he's sure I'll yell at him for upsetting her. Which, I wouldn't… probably."

"No one wants to anger the Mother of Tigers." Ted kissed her cheek. "I'll see what I can do this weekend. Fyo and I can hang out and we'll see what comes of it. That is, if you can spare me for a few hours."

Anika leaned against him. "I'm sure we can manage."

November 25th, 1996

Deanna tried to keep her mood upbeat as the train pulled into Central station, the same way she had been doing for the entire train ride from Resembool and, frankly, the two months since the attack on Resembool during the Autumn Festival. Those first hours would haunt her for years to come, if not the rest of her life, but she was determined to keep moving forward. It wasn't as if she'd had a choice. Hrafn's auto-mail surgery was finally imminent, and she and Reichart had made plans to come up to Central to be with him for the surgery, and immediately following.

Fortunately, Rhiana had promised to stay at the family home with her three youngest siblings who still lived at home, while they came to Central. It was the first trip Deanna could remember taking without any one of their children…well, since they started having them. At least on the travel portion. The goal was still to see one of their children after all, and take care of him. Something should definitely be done about that though later, now that their family no longer seemed to be in imminent danger anymore.

Certainly, everyone felt safe enough that Reichart's grandparents, great-aunt and great-uncle had finally come home again, and the family no longer had to pretend that they were missing or possibly dead.

Though the last two months had been painfully difficult for both of them. Even though all of her other children were safe, Deanna would never forget that they had almost lost Hrafn. Things could have been far worse.

The days got better, and she called once or twice a week to check in with her middle-most son. Outside of that, they let him call when he wanted to, or Coran called with occasional more immediate updates. Hrafn was studying on his own to hopefully make up some of the school he was missing, but Deanna had made it clear she was most concerned with his healing, both mentally and physically. Her son had been through a horrible trauma for a sixteen-year-old, or a child of any age. She just wanted him to recover, and find joy in his life again.

She wanted her husband to do the same. As much as Reichart clearly knew what had happened was not his fault, not being able to save Hrafn's hand, the violent attack that had stunned her sweet, very non-violent husband, had affected him as well. It had also put an awkward, and unnecessary, wall between her husband and son that Deanna hoped being in person again would help take down.

Deanna returned to their seats as the train slowed in the station and stopped at the platform. She smiled at him as she reached for her suitcase. "Let's go see him, shall we?"

Reichart nodded, and smiled back, though he didn't look like he felt it. After the first couple of weeks, when they had comforted each other, and mourned in their own ways, together, he had started faking being okay. It frustrated her, because in all the years they had known each other—since childhood—he had never done that to her before. This trip would hopefully help set his doubts and fears to rest.

They didn't have to go far to find their ride. Gale was waiting for them on the platform, wearing a dress-suit that made Deanna suspect she had come from a professional meeting with clients and definitely not the auto-mail workshop. She smiled and waved as they reached her, and accepted hugs from them both before leading them out of the station and to the car. Deanna asked about the suit and listened to Gale talk about her meeting—which was the every five year re-negotiation of the military contract—as they drove back to the shop and apartment. Given how quiet Reichart had gone when they started to get closer to Central, it made a nice change.

"Hrafn should be upstairs," Gale told them as they got out of the car behind the workshop. "Coran is over at the hospital checking on our two most recent patients that had their surgeries this week. Damian has after-school activities so he'll be home by dinner. If you want to go on up, you can have a little time to yourselves before everyone gets home. I've got to do a little paperwork first."

"Thank you," Deanna replied gratefully. "That will be perfect." Or at least, she certainly hoped it would be.

Together, she and Reichart went upstairs, and entered the apartment. They didn't have to go far to find Hrafn. He was sitting on the sofa in the living room that was the entrance and main living space of the apartment. The television was on, and he was watching some program Deanna didn't recognize, but it seemed to be a game show. Not that Deanna had much time for television.

In the moment before her son noticed him, Deanna took him in. He didn't look all that different after two months apart, but had he always been so tall? His hair looked a little longer, like it needed a trim, and he had enough stubble on his face that either he hadn't shaved in weeks, or he was finally to the point where he ought to be doing so every couple of days.

Then he noticed them, turning his head. "Mom, Dad, you're here."

"We promised we would be," she reminded him, smiling, trying not to show any hurt at the lack of apparent enthusiasm. She had missed him desperately, but that did not necessarily mean that he had missed them as much. Not that it was a bad thing either. He was growing up.

Hrafn stood up, turned off the television, and approached. The lack of arm past the elbow was evident, but he already seemed to move as if he had gotten used to not having it. Of course, after two months, that might be the case. The end was covered, but Coran had assured them it had healed well and the attachment of auto-mail should go smoothly. "I just meant I thought it would take you longer to get here from the station." He stepped willingly into her open arms and accepted her deep, tight squeezing hug, wrapping his good arm around her to return it. "I'm glad you're here."

"I've missed you," Deanna replied, only letting go reluctantly to give Reichart room to step in.

Which he did, and Hrafn hugged him as well, though it looked a little awkward. "I've missed you both, too," Hrafn assured her as he stepped back again. "But it's been nice staying here. Uncle Coran and Aunt Gale and Damian have been great."

"Glad to hear it," Reichart replied, putting on a happy expression that Deanna would bet was fake. She didn't know if Hrafn bought it either.

"Gale said we had some time before dinner," Deanna spoke up into the lull of silence that followed. "Where should we put our things?"

"Aunt Gale said you'd have the sleep-away bed in the sofa, so I guess you could put your suitcases in my room for now," Hrafn suggested, and led the way down the short hall to the second bedroom on the right, which faced out the front of the shop onto the street. Deanna knew it had been Gavin's room before her eldest nephew had moved out. He was only a couple of months younger than Owen, her second child. Damian, who still lived here, was just over two years older than Hrafn, but they had always gotten along on family visits.

The room was nice, and Hrafn probably enjoyed having it to himself, she thought. It was about the same size as his room back home, but growing up he had shared that room at one point with both Owen and Cailean, then Cailean and Lochlan. Lately, it had just been him and Lochlan. "It's nice and big," she commented aloud as she set down her bag.

"And private." Hrafn's little grin told her she had been correct in her assumptions. "It's a unique experience to have someone knock before coming into my space."

"That never happened to me at home as a kid," Reichart admitted, and gave a small chuckle that was, at least, genuine. "I think I'm envious." He glanced at a stack of books that Deanna had also noticed on the desk. "Think you'll be up enough on your studies to go back to class when you get home?" he asked, clearly trying to just sound curious and not critical.

Hrafn's smile disappeared, and for a moment, he averted his eyes. "That's… something I wanted to talk to you about, actually. I—I want to stay here… in Central. I'll go to school!" he added in a rush, his eyes going a little wide. "But I'd like to try going to school here, when I can. If, I mean… if that's all right with you."

Reichart looked at if he'd been hit in the face with a bat, his eyes had gone so wide.

Deanna wished she felt more surprised, but given how things had been lately, and her conversations with Gale and Coran, she had sort of expected it. Apparently, Reichart had not. "It's certainly worth talking over," she agreed calmly.

That seemed to be the encouragement Hrafn needed. He nodded, still standing there with them all in the middle of the room. "Uncle Coran said one of the high school's here in the city has a special program specifically for students with disabilities, and specializes in ones with physical limitations. The academics would be just as rigorous as a normal course, but… it would take into account that I've missed a couple of months, so I could get caught up more on my own time. And… it would work around my auto-mail rehabilitation, so I don't have to wait for my hand to fully heal first. I don't want to end up a year or more behind, but I… I don't think it would be fair to put that kind of extra work on our teachers in Resembool either. I mean, it's so much smaller, and each teacher has so many other students to worry about besides me."

Deanna forestalled Reichart from responding with a nod of her own. "That sounds like an excellent program, and you're right, we don't have anything on that level in Resembool, though we do have other students with auto-mail. I'd like to hear more, but I'm glad that you've been looking at your options. It's great to be able to have choices." She looked pointedly at her husband. Hrafn was also watching him, still looking wary.

Reichart nodded gruffly. "It sounds… promising."

"I'm glad." Hrafn looked slightly relieved. "It's something I'd really like to do and, no one else will know me there. I'll just be another kid like them, until I heal up. Then, if I want to, I can transfer home or… I can finish up here in the normal curriculum. There's a lot of opportunity in the city, and things to do."

All things they certainly couldn't argue with. Deanna had been grateful that Rhiana had decided to stay in Resembool after going away for her vet training, and that Owen had returned to start his electrical engineering company. Cailean might come back after following his fiancé to college in East City, or he might not. It would depend on where work took them after. Some people needed to get out and do things that were different, see other parts of the world to discover themselves. If Hrafn was happiest here, if this was the best place for him, she would make peace with it.

She just hoped Reichart could as well.

"Central's a great place," Deanna agreed. "I'm looking forward to seeing some things while we're here, so if you have any recommendations, I'd love to hear them. Maybe over a cup of tea?" It had been a long train ride.

Hrafn nodded, looking relieved that his big announcement had not turned into a shouting match. "Sure. I can put on the kettle for us."

Reichart had not been prepared for all of the realizations of the evening, though he thought that, all things considered, he had handled them fairly well. Seeing his son again after two months of stilted, very short phone conversations, had not made communication easier. Hrafn's missing section of his arm and hand were hard to avoid looking at, without remembering the horrors that had caused the permanent injury.

Then there had been his son himself. His face did not look like the fact of an optimistic young man. He looked older, wizened… like the world was no longer a joyous place he desired to explore. Even as he recommended restaurants that they had eaten food from the past couple of months, or places they might like to see that Damian had taken him out to explore, he seemed subdued.

The possibility that his son might decide not to come home at all had not crossed his mind until Hrafn had explained about the program in Central. A program Reichart would bet Coran knew about, given his line of work. Probably one that Coran himself had suggested.

For whatever reason, it made Reichart angry. He felt left out of the decision, and blindsided, and even Deanna had made it clear from her glances that he was not to object. The last thing he wanted was to upset his son, or his wife, but everything felt even more off kilter than it had when the accident first happened. Like he was losing his son. It wasn't logical, but that didn't mean he could shake the feeling.

Coran, Gale, and Damian all arrived home within the hour, and dinner was some excellent and fascinating Kartosian take-out from a little restaurant down the street that Coran said had opened just recently.

After dinner, Hrafn excused himself to go read, Damian went out on a date, and Reichart sat there as Gale and Deanna fell deep into conversation. At least until Coran nodded at the door. Reichart got up and followed him. Together they went downstairs.

"Something you wanted to talk about?" Reichart asked as they reached the street.

"Actually, I thought there was something you wanted to talk about," Coran admitted. "You've had a look on your face all evening. So, do we talk here in the workshop, or do we head down the street to my favorite pub?"

Now that was a tempting offer, but probably not the wisest. "Can they hear us upstairs if we talk down here?"

Coran shook his head. "No. When Granny had the place remodeled, she made sure they sound-proofed the apartment."

"Then let's start here." Reichart followed Coran into the auto-mail shop through the back entrance, past racks and racks of auto-mail parts, until his brother stopped in a room that had a table and chairs. Though he didn't sit down before he looked his older brother in the eye, and spoke his mind. "Why the hell didn't you warn me Hrafn doesn't want to come home?"

Coran did not look bothered. "Because it's Hrafn's right to tell you for himself, and to make that decision for himself. I did tell him the program existed, but I also made it clear that he was going to have to talk anything over with you and Deanna. You're his parents, after all."

"Well, his mind seems pretty made up."

"He's a fairly decisive young man, and he's got a good head on him. It's also a very good opportunity," Coran pointed out. "And Gale and I are happy to have him for as long as he wants to stay."

All logical, all things he should appreciate. But all he felt was… a pain he couldn't entirely identify. It was like abandonment….but not quite. "You're not his father."

There was something infuriatingly patient in his brother's expression. "No, but that doesn't mean I don't love my nephew, or you… my brother. Look, Art. What you're feeling… it's understandable. It's a natural part of the grieving process."

"Don't patronize me, Coran."

"I'm not. I've seen this with thousands of patients, and their families. The loss of a limb is traumatic, especially the way it happened to Hrafn. Moving on when life has been upended, and possibly a career path or a loved activity no longer an option… there is loss, and that means mourning what should have been. Moving on is important, but so is time to accept what's happened. Hrafn is still working through that process, but he is working through it. The first month he was here, he tried to hide it, but all he did when he thought we weren't looking was mope around the house, and half hide in his room. He cried every night, and he picked at his food. Now, he's engaging in the world again, little by little. He shows interest in going out places with Damian, even with his arm missing. He's eating. He's actually reading. I can guarantee you when we first got him out of the hospital, he hadn't touched a book in his room while he was admitted. He barely touched them here at first. But this decision he's making for himself, that he wants you to approve of… it's a big step. Towards accepting what happened, towards accepting himself as he is now, and as he can be, instead of constantly thinking about what he was. It would give him a chance to meet some more kids his age going through the same kind of thing he's dealing with; which will give him friends, and perspective."

"Enough!" Reichart finally cut him off when he realized Coran was going to keep talking until he responded. "I get it. I just…. Just stop for a minute."

Why did his brother look disappointed? Not that Coran being disappointed in a younger sibling was at all out of character, but it had been years since Reichart had seen it first-hand. When they were teens, there had been times Coran was almost insufferable. Yet now, his brother just nodded, and stopped, and waited expectantly for Reichart to say something.

"Look, Coran… I appreciate everything you've done for Hrafn, and what you're doing for him still. I know you'll take the best care of him that any auto-mail mechanic could, and the arm and hand you've made for him are probably fantastic. But… it's just too much… for me… to take in all at once. I've had no say in it from the moment I didn't fight Hrafn in making the choice to come here. I've had no control over this… from the moment the stage blew up. I feel…I don't even know what I feel. Adrift? Lost? Broken? I still have three children living at home who need me, and every moment I'm not with them I can't get over the fact that I couldn't do anything for him. Deanna was the one who kept him from bleeding out. All I did was carry him. And… I can barely do my job anymore. I mean, I'm going, and the work is getting done, and it's getting done right but I have no objectivity anymore. And blood…. I can't stand blood." Every time a patient came in bleeding, he saw Hrafn for a moment, and all the blood that had soaked into them both, and the scent of it in his nostrils. His son's blood… "It's there, in my dreams…. And I have no idea how Deanna's so together with all this when I'm… just not." Not at all eloquent, but he at least thought he'd said it coherently.

Coran stood, listening, looking both knowing and understanding in a way that made Reichart want to hit him. No, Coran had not had something like this happen to his own children, but he saw auto-mail patients every day. He did know, and not just in his know-it-all older brother kind of way. Reichart got the feeling all he had just done was make his brother's point. So, he stood there, and waited, when he ran out of words.

"Sounds like this is the best place for you to be then," Coran replied when it was clear Reichart didn't have more to say. "For all of you. In a few days, Hrafn will have his new prosthetic, and the major healing begins. You're here for him, but it will be good for all of you to be part of this. To see it yourself instead of just hearing about it on the phone… or taking your brother's word for it." The last was said with a small smile. "Take this time away from work, away from everything else, to breathe, and to deal with this. Just this."

He could do that. Reichart nodded. It was true. The rest of his family was fine. They were worried about Hrafn, but most of them had not been right there at the stage, for the explosion, or seen Hrafn until after he'd been treated at the hospital. Everyone was worried, and everyone had been terrified, but they were all right. "I'm trying."

"That's all anyone can ask." Coran reached out a moment, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Strained as it seems, I know Hrafn is glad you're here. He just wants to be treated like he's not fragile, like he's still himself. He's a resilient young man, and he spent a good bit of time with Grandpa and Alphonse while they were all in the hospital. If anyone knows what it's like to deal with trauma and loss of body parts at a young age, its them. It was good for him."

Reichart nodded again. As long as his son got better, it didn't matter where the help came from. He had lots of family and friends who loved him. "I'm sure it was. He does seem… better, than before. It's a relief. I ah… think I'm ready for that drink now." He felt better. Not great, but better, getting it all out. It also seemed a little soon to go back upstairs. Deanna and Gale didn't get to hang out often, and he didn't want to interrupt their conversation.

Coran dropped his hand, and smiled. "It's a great place. Let's go."