By Henrika

Disclaimer- If I owned Full Metal Alchemist, I would take the title of Angst Queen. Do you see a crown of my head? No? Didn't think so. Don't own it then.

Henrika- So sorry for anyone who was waiting for the next chapter of Family. I've had some huge exams lately that took up a lot of time. I'll try to get it out next week. (Sees reviewers nodding their heads sarcastically.)

As for this, MAJOR SPOILERS.

And the truth is, I have not actually seen the last half of the series. I am working off AMV clips and summaries for this fic, but I think I managed to make it still consistent with the storyline. There will be a few more, perhaps connected with this, that will deal with spoilers released about the movie. Be warned now.

Ed quivered silently in his seat, somewhere between rage and mind-breaking sadness. It's not true. Not true. Not truenottruenotnotnot. The mantra ran down in his head, and he tried desperately to believe it. Everything he had believed in had just been torn apart and thrown back in his face. For everyone that he had helped, people had died because of his actions. Everything he had done and where was he now?

"Edward? I really don't see why you're upset. You knew there had to be a trade somewhere. And human lives are the only thing powerful enough to power large transmutations. Didn't your search for the Philosopher's Stone teach you that?"

"You bastard." Ed's mind settled comfortably on rage. "Why didn't I know? Why doesn't everyone know?"

"You didn't want to see it." His father said calmly, staring at his son across the kitchen table.

"And you? When did you know?" Ed demanded, swinging his crude auto-mail onto the table, the wood straining slightly under the blow.

"Four hundred years ago, when I first made the stone."

Ed stayed quiet for a moment. "And you'd take human lives as having so little value that they can be sacrificed just for that?"

"I did."

"You complete and utter bastard! Do you know how many people have died because of you? I've died twice because of you damn it!"

"Twice?" Hohenheim looked surprised at that.

"Yes, twice. Once because your former lover Dante (did you ever love Mom?) tossed me through the gate to be killed in the fiery wreckage of a Zeppelin crash (I'd rather have been burned to death by Mustang). And the second time was all your fault because your bastard recreation of a son Envy hated you so much that he hated me and…and he." Ed's breath caught in his throat.

"Edward?" The older man might have moved to comfort the boy, but the years of resentment made crossing the short distance to the other chair impossible.

The boy finally got a grip on himself and continued so quietly that Hohenheim had to strain to hear him. "I was going to kill him. I knew it was him and no matter what form he took I was going to kill the son of a bitch. But then he…then he took your form and I couldn't kill you. I should have been able to kill you after what you've done, but I couldn't. And then he ran me through and…" Ed clutched at his chest with his good hand, breathing hard at the memory. "It hurt, worse than all of Sensei's beatings, worse than having my arm and leg taken away, worse that every auto-mail connection combined. And then what made it so much worse, I saw Al in that transmutation circle and there wasn't a damn thing I could do, but lay there and try to breathe and I couldn't even do that, it was all blood and…" He lowered his head, bangs covering his eyes.

There was complete silence in the small kitchen. "I want to go home." Ed whispered softly and Hohenheim rose from his seat, rounding the table to kneel at his son's side.

When Ed finally looked at him, cautiously peeking out from underneath the blonde fringe, Hohenheim seized the boy in a hug. Ed immediately stiffened, but did not pull away. The elder man could have said a thousand things, could have offered his son an explanation or an apology, all long over-due and useless. But the golden-haired man just stayed silent, awkwardly hugging his son.

Resolve weakened, Ed realized the truth he had hid from himself. I don't hate him. He returned the hug as best he could, sinking down against the warm shoulder. For a father-son relationship as estranged as theirs was, it was definitely a start.

Henrika- A very screwed-up relationship to be sure.