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The funeral was devastating and only solidified what what you already knew to be true. Not only did you have to bury your father, but you also had to watch your mother explain to your little sister why he was being lowered into the ground. She didn't understand and, in all honesty, you didn't either. Why did it have to be him?

You tried so hard to keep from crying, to hold the painful tears back until you were alone. You had done well to achieve that, but when your mother had to cradle your sister as she broke into hysterics, it was all you could do to choke back hoarse sobs of your own. In a last ditch effort to conceal your puffy, runny face, you lowered you head and clenched your fists so tightly your nails punctured your palms.

It was the last thing you expected. Never in a million years would you have pictured a life without him, or that you would stumble across such a massacre in a once innocent phone booth. Now, there you were: a girl without the first love of her life, a girl without her hero. Colonel Maes Hughs was gone forever.

Weeks after the funeral you suffered from nightmares. Every night your father was in your head, limp and crimson. Every night you woke drenched in sweat and screaming, your mother crashing into your bedroom to hold you until you calmed down. You wished you were as young as your sister so that you might move on with your life more quickly. Though you knew she missed him, she was too young to feel the void that he had left in your heart. You, unlike Elicia, had spent eighteen years of your life with him.

How did you even begin to cope?

"She's still having the nightmares," you heard your mother speak, her hushed tone still audible from the kitchen. "She barely sleeps... No, I've asked her everything I can, but she won't say much else other than she's fine."

You sat in the corridor, your back flush against the wall. You could hear the worry in your mother's voice. You knew it was Roy Mustang she was speaking to on the phone. It had been the third time he had called in a week, but you hadn't been willing to talk to him. You hadn't even said anything to him at the funeral.

Roy was the one that came for you after you found your father murdered in that telephone booth. A simple, late night walk --a walk you often took when you wanted to visit your father at work, and it turned into a frantic phone call to Roy. You called him first because you didn't know how to tell your mother, and Roy was the only other man you'd ever looked up to in your life. He was the only other man that you had been enamored with.

You knew he meant well by calling so often and that he just wanted to check up on things, check in on you, but you wished he would just leave you alone a little while longer. After all, what did you say?

"Sissy," you tilted your head toward the owner of the small, angelic voice. Elicia appeared beside you, her tiny hands held together in front of her waist. Her bright eyes were filled with confusion, her pink lips slightly pursed, "Why are you sitting in the hallway and in the dark?"

You smiled wryly, "I'm just waiting for Mommy to finish dinner."

Elicia took a big whiff of the air and grinned, "It smells good, doesn't it?" You nodded and watched as she padded closer to you. She squatted onto her bottom and leaned against your arm. It was a curious gesture, and you stared at the top of her head for several seconds. Finally, she asked, "Do you miss Daddy, Sissy?"

The corners of your mouth grew heavy with a frown and your throat tightened. Elicia didn't move or turn to look up at you, but the same tone of concern was in her voice as it was in your mother's. You lifted your arms and wrapped them around her, pulling her closer to you. Your cheek rested atop her head, "You shouldn't ask silly questions like that, Elicia. Of course, I do."

"Is that why you scweam at night time?"

You closed your eyes guiltily, "Mm-hm."

Elicia pulled away and looked up at you endearingly, "When I have a bad dweam, Mommy takes them away with a pwayer. Maybe you should make Mommy pway with you. Maybe she'll even let me pway with you."

Moisture clung to the corners of your eyes, and you forced a smile in an attempt to hide them. You soaked in her precious, round face; it was no wonder why your father had been just as obsessed with her as he had been with you. You were the first born, but she was a gift. You wished you could take back all the times you grumbled through your father's persistent photo shoots, or the time you were embarrassed when he doted on the two of you.

A shadowed stretched over you and you looked up into your mother's eyes. The phone was held against her shoulder, "_____, dear... Roy is on the phone, he wants to speak with you."

You hesitated, still unwilling to talk about it, but the expression on your mother's face was begging you to. You obliged for her benefit and took the phone. Your mother's shoulders seemed to lighten instantly and she guided Elicia out into the living room.

You took a deep breath and brought the phone up to your ear, "Don't you have more important things to do?" You asked, barely above a whisper and much sharper than you intended, "Or do you prefer babysitting?"

"Hello to you, too, _______," Roy sighed, exasperated. "I'd apologize, but it sounds like I was right to call. You sound just as agitated and hoarse as you did at the funeral, though you didn't even say much then either. Your mom said you're still not sleeping."

"I lost my dad, Roy. It's only been a few weeks."

"I know, and I lost a friend. Though, that doesn't exactly make us square, I can still care," he paused and, as much dread as this phone call brought you, you hoped he hadn't hung up. You wouldn't admit it out loud, but the sound of his voice was comforting, "It's okay, you know? To feel the way you do. No one deserves to see what you did, to bury the person they love and it takes a toll on a person, especially knowing it was your old man. Putting on a front won't make it go away. All I'm doing is giving you someone to confide in considering..."

A knot rose in your throat.

"Look, I'm here for you, _____. If you can't talk to your mom, then at least talk to me."

"I don't think Dad would appreciate the advancement, Roy," you deadpanned.

You heard his breath hitch, and imagined an irked expression. He was trying to make it sound like you hadn't riled him up, but his tone gave it away, "I won't force you to talk, just... I'm here, whenever. You can call me anytime. Next time, whether it's you or me that calls, let's try to have a conversation with a little less sass."

You frowned and averted your eyes to the floor, "You got it, sir."

"Don't do anything stupid."

A gasp escaped your lips as the line clicked abruptly.

He spoke knowingly, but... He couldn't have known what you intended to do.

__________________________________________________________________________________

You had had an interest in Alchemy before you'd even met the Elric brothers, but that interest grew after the fact. You saw what they could do and it amazed you, inspired you to learn more on your own. You did it on your own and in your free time, Edward and Al never having a moment to help teach you.

It was a few days after your father's death when you found the book... The book on human transmutation. The moment you laid eyes on it, you knew it was heavy and you knew it was dangerous, nearly impossible. But, as your nightmares worsened, and the emptiness grew inside you the more tempted you were to perform such a feat. You had come to the conclusion that you couldn't live another day without your father, the idea of how happy it would make your mother and sister if you succeeded consumed you.

For months, you studied. You kept it a secret from everyone around you, well aware of just how taboo it was. No one to your knowledge had ever succeeded, but with your now developed, almost professional, skill you were sure you could. What did you have to lose? Worst case, you failed, but you were prepared to continue trying until your saw your father's face again.

It was two in the morning when you sneaked out of your home and to an abandon boat house at the edge of down. You sat in the center of the room, nothing but the supplies scattered around you and empty cargo boxes to keep you company. The white, chalk circle was already drawn, candles lined the perimeter, and every human ingredient you needed was piled in the center.

You were growing excited, high expectations swarming your thought process. You felt no pain as you pricked your finger and crimson liquid dripped into your ingredients, only good, warm feelings of what it would be like to see him again --to hear his voice call you by name.

A tear slipped your eye as you knelt outside the circle, "Daddy," your croaked to the pile of ash inside the circle. You trembled as you pictured his cheesy grin, choking back an elated sob. You sucked in a deep breath, confident and composed, "I'm bringing you home."

You rubbed your clammy hands together and hovered them over the outside line. You clapped your hands together, a silent prayer and a recollection of the list of ingredients running through your head one last time. Your heart raced as you began to lower your hands toward the concrete ground until all you could hear was it thumping in your ears.

Inches from making contact, the warehouse doors flailed open and startled you upright. You gasped as a bright flame swirled through the room and consumed your father's composition, "No!" You exclaimed, and turned your wide-eyed gaze to meet Roy's glowering stare. Fear and embarrassment struck you, "R-Roy... How did you find me?"

"Your mom called, said she found the books under your bed," he barked, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

You forced a hardened expression, "None of your business."

Roy's nose crinkled as he curled his lip angrily and strode toward you. You jolted as he grabbed you firmly by the shoulders and shook you once, "Don't take me for a fool, _____! I know what this is, I just didn't think you were actually stupid enough to do it."

"I can do it, Roy! I can bring him back! I've studied for months, you'll see--"

"It doesn't matter, it won't work."

"Yes, it will!"

"No, it won't! How do you think the Elrics lost their bodies!"

You face fell and you shivered under his cold stare. You knew so little about the Elrics, only that they had lost their mother, but it only took you a moment to piece together Roy's words. You slumped, mouth slack and heart sinking into the pit of your stomach. You felt foolish...

Roy released your shoulders and turned his back to you in frustration. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, "No one can play God, ______," he spoke, and more gently this time. "Ed and Al learned that the hard way, and the same would have happened to you or worse. Your father wouldn't resemble anything like the man you knew, only a hideous abomination and for what? So, you could fulfill your greed."

Unable to control the tears streaming your face, you snapped, "How is it greedy of me to want my father back? He was everything to me, and someone took him from me!"

"That's exactly my point: you think your the only person your father was important to, but you would have made him into the very thing that murdered him in the first place!" A sob hitched and you lowered your head in shame. "Instead of trusting me, and instead of trusting your own damn mother, you were willing to sacrifice yourself to a hopeless act. Don't you realize how selfish that is? To lose her husband is one thing, but to lose her daughter too...

"I won't let you," he continued softly, turning to look at you from the corner of his eye. "Maes wouldn't have wanted this of you, and I won't let you sacrifice yourself in vain. You're too important."

"I'm sorry," you rasped and buried your face in your hands. "I'm so sorry."

Roy knelt in front of you and took your wrists in his hands, lowering them from you face. To insure you met his eye, he tucked his index finger under your chin and lifted it to his level. Warmth spread through your cheeks as he smirked, "You know, Maes told me that if anything happened to him that I'd have to look after his little girl and that's what I intend to do. You're not little anymore, but that doesn't mean my job is over."

You grimaced and closed your eyes as he wiped the tears from your face. You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your face hidden in the crook of his neck. He embraced you silently for several seconds.

"Besides," he started and pulled away, a sly grin growing, "don't you remember who you said you wanted to marry when you got older?"

You looked at him askance, and grumbled through pursed lips, "I can't believe he told you that."

Roy chuckled wholeheartedly and rose to his feet. He offered his hand and you took it, holding onto you a second longer as you gained your balance. He removed his military coat and swung it around your shoulders, "It'll be okay, ______. I'll find the one responsible for this, I promise. Trust me?"

You nodded sheepishly, "Thank you, Roy..."

He beamed, "Don't mention it. The sooner I find this guy, the sooner we can plan that wedding."

"Enough! It was just a childhood crush! I was five!"

"So you did have a crush on me?"

"I said enough, pervert!"