Phase 5

After Pinako had gone upstairs again, Hohenheim changed Envy into the attire that had been set aside for him; mindful of the bandages that covered most of his body. The pajamas were too big for his slim figure, so Hohenheim had to alter them to fit. Then he, too, changed into a fresh set of clothes after another quick application of Alkahestry to speed up his own body's healing process. After that he returned to his seat to keep watch over his son.

***

Without knowing it, Hohenheim had dozed off. He was startled awake by the sound of continuous coughing. He sprang out of his chair to sit on the bedside. "William?" Hohenheim quickly procured a glass of water. Lifting a half-conscious Envy up in a sitting position, Hohenheim pressed the glass to his son's lips. Parched, the latter took a gulp, but another round of coughing caused him to spew the water out. "William!" Hohenheim set the glass down on the nightstand. Using the sleeve from his coat, he began wiping away the liquid from his son's face. His skin felt warm to the touch against the drops of water. Envy's coughing gradually subsided as his eyes slowly opened and adjusted to scenes that were both familiar and foreign to him.

"Father?" Envy's voice was weak. His eyes rested upon the man holding him, whose face was filled with concern and fatigue.

"I'm right here. You're awake now. That's good," Hohenheim said, trying to reassure them both.

"Back then...you really did come back for me."

Hohenheim takes a moment to let the words sink in.

"I was having a dream. I was locked away somewhere, and I couldn't see very much. I couldn't speak either. But I heard her voice. And I heard your voice too. You were calling out to me. You really did come back for me."

Hohenheim closes his eyes and rests his chin on his son's forehead. He meditates on the memories that come flooding back to him.

"When I returned home after my attempt to bring you back, your mother told me that you didn't survive. I believed her; but soon I discovered that wasn't the truth. I went to the place where she told me she had buried you. There was nothing but an empty grave. So I realized you had to still be alive. For a while, I believed that your mother hid the truth of your survival from me after seeing me in so much grief over all the pain I had inflicted upon you. I wanted to talk to her about this, but I was too late again. Your mother had left and, I could only hope, that she had taken you with her. Not long after she had gone, I began to have some suspicions."

Hohenheim draws in a breath before continuing.

"There were things that didn't add up to me. You were a highly skilled alchemist, even more so than I was at your age. You knew the dangers involved with mercury. So it didn't make sense for you to succumb to mercury poisoning. I did some investigating, and -- " He struggles to find the right words.

"And my suspicions were confirmed after I saw your mother again." His breathing starts to become heavy.

"I asked her -- she didn't deny it, only wondered why it took me so long to confront her about it." The man laughed derisively, but the tears that blinded his vision betrayed his true emotions.

Envy said not a word. He didn't know what to say -- or do. For over four centuries, his mother had stood by his side. In the absence of his father, Dante had become both mother and father to the abandoned Homunculus. Although she was indifferent towards him -- and even ordered him to commit inhumane acts of cruelty to create the Philosopher's Stone -- Dante had become a supporting pillar in Envy's existence. He killed for her pleasure -- for her acknowledgement -- all for the promise of exacting revenge on the father who turned his back on him.

But now...the father that he wanted to erase from the face of the world, turned out to not have forgotten him at all. His centuries of existence came to naught. He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than sleep to take him away.

Hohenheim removed his glasses to wipe away his tears. When he placed his spectacles back on he saw someone standing on the landing of the stairway.

"Alphonse."

The youngest Elric brother came to his senses after realizing that his father had seen him. He walked down the remaining flight of stairs with a tray in his hands.

"Granny Pinako cooked dinner for us." Alphonse placed the tray on the table.

"Dinner? Is it that late already?"

His son nodded. "We've been home for half a day already."

"Oh, I see..." Hohenheim turned his attention back to his oldest son and noticed that the latter had drifted off to sleep. He gently laid him down on the bed and tucked the blanket around him before addressing Alphonse again. "How is Edward doing?"

"He's still feverish, but Winry gave him some medicine earlier to help him sleep better."

"That's good," Hohenheim said, relieved to hear that someone was tending to his second son.

A brief silence ensued, to which the father became absorbed in his own thoughts.

"Dad?"

Hohenheim looked up at Alphonse. The latter walked up and wrapped his arms around him. "It'll be alright, Dad. Everything's going to be fine."

The father found comfort in his son's embrace, and willed himself to believe those words.

***

Winry was in the midst of preparing Edward's dinner tray. The latter was still fast asleep from fever and exhaustion. She ladled out some stew into a bowl. Then she cut a slice of bread from the freshly baked loaf. A thought suddenly came to mind.

"Alphonse didn't take any bread with him. I'll go give him some." The blonde-haired teenager prepared another plate of bread and proceeded towards the door to the basement.

Voices could be heard. Like Alphonse, Winry had to pause on the landing to take in the scene before her eyes. She was immediately noticed by Alphonse's father.

"Oh, Mr. Elric. It's good to see you again, Sir. I just wanted to give you some bread to go with your stew."

Her eyes rested upon the sleeping figure, and the plate nearly slipped out from her grip.

Phase 4     Phase 6