Author's Note: This fic is due almost entirely to my dear friend HolyCowWorshipper. Until I met her, I'd always thought that Al would make a great husband and father, but none of the canon characters really seemed to fit him in that special way that other pairings do. I've always shied away from making OCs, especially ones that marry canon characters. But then I saw a beautiful picture that HolyCowWorshipper drew of her own OC idea ( holycowworshipper dot deviantart dot com / art / Marina-1-FMA-OC-183400121 ). She told me a few ideas she had at the time, and then I went off on my own and started daydreaming. I thought at first that I'd be able to bring her OC to life in a fic, since she doesn't write very often. By the end of a single daydream session, however, it was clear that my imagination was crafting an OC all of its own. I took a few of the original ideas of the character, and merged it with some of my own, so now our two OCs are like twin sisters in separate dimensions. The basis of Emily's character was a throwaway comment HolyCowWorshipper made about Ed and Winry laughing at what Al and the OC get up to, and "Love Song Requiem" by Trading Yesterday. Because that song was so influential to the ideas that cemented her, I decided to name her Emily. Also, this takes place in my animeverse postseries AU, where there is no other side of the Gate, Al gets his body back, and Ed keeps his automail.

The cover art is from HolyCowWorshipper's beautiful picture that can be found at: holycowworshipper dot deviantart dot com / art / Hey-you-hey-me-FMA-OC-191803075

Mood Music: "Love Song Requiem" by Trading Yesterday (duh), "The Heart Never Lies" by McFly, "Je N'ais Pas De Mots" and "Hello Beautiful" by Vic Mignogna, "Hey There Delilah" by Plain White T's, "Oh My Dear" by Tenth Avenue North, "Gravity" by Sarah Bareilles, and "Damaged" by Plumb. All of which are absolutely beautiful, so check them out!

I die each time
You look away
My heart, my life
Will never be the same

...

Emily will find a better place to fall asleep
And maybe she will save me in the oceans of her dreams
And maybe someday love...

- "Love Song Requiem" by Trading Yesterday

For HolyCowWorshipper, who is an amazing and inspirational artist

The first time Alphonse Elric met Emily Atwood, neither of them had any idea who the other was. Alphonse had just managed to convince his brother that he could do without him for the afternoon, so that Edward could get some long-overdue work done. For the first two weeks after restoring Alphonse to his body, Edward had refused to leave his side for more than a few minutes at a time, insisting that he needed to help him adjust.

But Alphonse's strength, health, and dexterity were improving daily, and he knew Mustang had been hounding his brother for the past several days to fill out the necessary paperwork after not reporting in to work for so long. When Edward finally, reluctantly left, Alphonse decided he might as well wander about the halls to get some exercise in. He could walk without support now, except for when he stumbled over his own feet and fell against the wall. He was looking forward to proudly announcing to Edward that he had climbed every stair and walked down every hall all by himself.

He never got very far. In his daily excursions through the hospital, he sought to alleviate his boredom by getting to know the other patients stuck there long-term like he was. He knew everyone by name, and had even struck up quite a good friendship with the little girl down at the other end of the hall, who had a terminal illness with no hope of recovery. So when he passed a doorway to the room that had always been empty, he stopped short.

A girl lay on the bed, alone. Of course; visiting hours are over, he thought. He didn't mean to stare, but he remained standing in the doorway and looking at her. She was a teenager, somewhere around his age, he thought. Her long red hair fanned out in lank tangles all around her face. She was staring up at the ceiling with a glum, uninterested expression. Then Alphonse realized what about her appearance had caught his attention. Her cheekbones protruded obviously in her gaunt, pale face, and though most of her body was obscured by the heavy comforter, the arm lying on top was bone-thin.

Alphonse looked down at his own wrist, encircled by the little tag with his name and information on it. His arm wasn't as thin as it had been when he'd first come to the hospital, but he could still see the bones of his wrist as clearly as an X-ray. When he looked back up at the girl, something softened inside him and he stepped into her room.

"Hi," he said brightly, and waited for a response.

Her eyes flicked dully towards him, then returned to the ceiling.

"My name's Alphonse Elric. What's yours?"

When he received no response, he suppressed a sigh. He could have just looked at the tag on her wrist, but instead he pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down. "It's really nice here," he said, trying to coax her into conversation. "I think you'll like it. I've been here...oh, two weeks now, I guess. Not sure how long I'll have to stay. The doctor hopes by the end of the month. Do you know how long you're staying?"

He waited, but she only blinked. "What are you here for? There's all sorts of people on this hall, but most of them have to stay for a long time. That's why it's nice. It's kind of like staying in a hotel, only the nurses come to check your pulse every morning." He laughed lightly, but of course she didn't join in. "I'm here 'cause I almost starved to death," he added, in a softer voice, looking at his skinny fingers splayed on his knees.

Glancing up at the girl, he noticed that she was looking at him now. He smiled at her and added brightly, "But that means I get to eat whatever I want! Some people have to watch their diet in here, and the nurses get on their case if they sneak in some cookies or something. But yesterday," he added, excitement overtaking him, "I got to eat a whole chocolate cake!" He grinned to himself, remembering the soft squishy feeling between his teeth as he chewed each sweet piece, staggered throughout the day. "It even had whipped cream on top, with little chocolate sprinkles. Though it would've been better with ice cream, I think." He focused back on the girl, still smiling. "Do you like ice cream?"

The tiniest ghost of a smile lifted her lips, and she nodded once.

"Vanilla ice cream with chunks of chocolate and caramel swirls in it?"

Her eyes brightened perceptibly and she nodded again, a little more vigorously this time.

Alphonse's grin broadened and he got to his feet. "You wait right there!"

He hurried into the hall and down the stairs to the cafeteria on the ground floor, his previous mission of traipsing all over the building forgotten. Edward had suggested he eat in the cafeteria now that he could walk again, and by now all the cooks knew him, and knew that he was to be fattened up as much as possible while he was there. So when he asked for a serving of their special homemade ice cream, they gave him two.

When Edward returned to the hospital to bid Alphonse goodnight, he found his younger brother sitting in a girl's room, both of them finishing off large ice creams with obvious relish. The girl hadn't said a word the whole time, but when Alphonse hopped up to go back to his own room, she waved goodbye. The next morning, when he walked down the hall to visit her again, a nurse told him that she had been moved to a different hospital, so she could see a specialist of some kind. Alphonse shrugged and hoped she would get better soon.

He never even learned her name.

Almost twenty years later, Alphonse strolled up the path towards home with his brother. It had been a long day; Edward swore the train seats were getting harder each time they rode on them. They both just wanted to stuff themselves with Winry's good cooking and then collapse into bed, so the sight of the yellow and white houses growing larger and larger on the hill before them had never seemed more welcoming.

Nina and Trisha were doing their homework on the porch, probably for the express purpose of being the ones to see their father first. "Dad's back!" Nina yelled through the open front door, and then the two girls pounded down the wooden steps in their bare feet, pelting towards Edward.

Laughing, Edward put down his suitcase and caught them, having to step back to keep them from knocking him right over. They seemed to have grown in the last month, Alphonse thought as Trisha let go of her father to hug him as well. "How're you doing, girls?" he asked, feeling the weariness of the long journey wearing off at the sight of their overjoyed faces.

As Nina and Trisha began excitedly filling them in on what they had been learning in school and their own private alchemy studies, Edward herded them towards the door. Since he held Trisha's hand in one of his and had his other arm around Nina's shoulders, Alphonse grabbed both their suitcases and followed them inside.

Winry was waiting in the foyer, beaming and wiping her grease-stained hands on a rag. In the past year, she had taken up her automail work again; while her children had been young, there had been no time for automail except as an occasional hobby, but now she had more time on her hands. She kissed Edward briefly, but as she hugged Alphonse, he saw someone over her shoulder.

A complete stranger stood just outside the door leading to the automail fitting room, smiling expectantly in the way of people waiting to be introduced. She was a young woman with bright red, wavy hair pulled back in a short, sloppy ponytail trailing all over the place. Her lime-green shirt bore a large yellow smiley face with a smear of grease obscuring one eye, and her faded jeans had been cut off at the knee and improperly hemmed, so fraying ends hung everywhere. Alphonse found himself staring at her bare feet, the toes of which had each been painted a different color; he couldn't be sure from this distance, but he thought she had drawn a smiley face on the yellow nails of her big toes as well.

"Oh, guys!" Winry recollected herself, beckoning the woman forward. "This is Emily Atwood; she's been working as my assistant for the past couple of weeks."

Emily came forward, grinning and holding out her hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Elric."

"Oh, call me Ed." He shook her hand, smiling. "So you're an automail mechanic, or...?"

"No, I studied to be a physical therapist, but I've always wanted- HAAAAA!"

As soon as she saw Alphonse, she pointed wildly at him and yelled as though a spider was crawling in his hair. With a jump, Alphonse looked around to figure out what the problem was.

Her eyes were as round as saucers as she cried, "You're...You're Alonzo Aulric!"

"Um...no, I'm Alphonse Elric."

Emily's jaw dropped, then she clapped a hand to her forehead. "You mean I've gotten the name wrong all these years? Sheesh, no wonder I could never find out anything about you!" Abruptly, she went from shocked to smug, crossing her arms and grinning at him. "Well, whatever! You, my friend, are going on a date with me!"

Alphonse was aware of Edward snickering behind him, and noticed Winry hiding a smile behind her hand, but the most intelligent thing he could think to say was, "Huh?"

Before he really understood what was going on, Alphonse found himself walking down the dirt path with Emily, lugging a picnic basket that had to contain enough food to feed the entire family. Apparently, Emily considered a trip to the public picnic grounds at the bottom of the hill an adequate 'date.'

She was skipping along at his side, humming "Jingle Bells" under her breath even though it was still warm enough that she could wear sandals. She had run back to her house to freshen up while Winry packed the picnic basket, so now at least her jeans weren't fraying and her sunny yellow shirt was clean. Her hair now hung free in a thick, wavy mass, only as long as her ears; she kept on brushing it impatiently back with one hand, and as Alphonse watched, he noticed that her fingernails were painted white, with a different expression drawn on each in black marker.

To keep himself from staring, Alphonse spoke up. "Um...I don't mean to be a spoilsport, but are you really sure we should be doing this?"

Emily stopped humming and turned around to face him, walking backwards. "What do you mean?"

Alphonse shifted the basket in his hands uncomfortably. "Well, you're...probably a lot younger than I am..."

She smiled, unperturbed. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-four," he said, somewhat defensively. "And you're probably..." He looked her over again, then said cautiously, "Nineteen?"

Emily burst out laughing, so hard that she had to stop and bend over, clutching her sides. Blushing, Alphonse waited for her, wondering if he'd guessed too old.

Gasping for breath and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, Emily straightened up and giggled, "I'm thirty-four too. We're the same age!"

He gaped at her.

Her smile widened, forming twin dimples. "I'll take that as a compliment, I guess."

Stunned to silence, Alphonse let Emily lead the way to the picnic tables. All were deserted. A few minutes passed in which they were occupied with unpacking the many dishes of leftovers Winry had given them, and eating them with relish. Alphonse focused on his food; he was hungry after a whole day of traveling, and Emily seemed hungry as well, because she said nothing either for several long minutes.

But as he began to slow down, Alphonse looked up at her again. He didn't know quite what to make of her. "So...how did you know who I was?"

Emily turned from her contemplation of a bluebird in a nearby tree and brightened visibly. "Don't you remember? It was in the hospital. You practically turned my whole life around!"

Alphonse frowned thoughtfully, a vague memory drifting to the front of his mind. "When was this?"

"1915. I think it was October or something."

Alphonse gazed at her again, and slowly he saw the faint resemblance to the thin, wasted girl eating ice cream with him. "That was you?" he breathed, comparing her in his mind to that listless, silent girl.

Emily nodded cheerfully. "Yep! I never even saw you again, but you know...you made me remember the beauty in life." She smiled and tipped her head back, looking up at the deepening blue sky. "You were the only person who came just to see me, to talk to me. I never forgot that." She closed her eyes contentedly as a cool breeze lifted her hair off her neck.

Alphonse watched her, holding onto his own long golden ponytail so it wouldn't fly all over the place. He could hardly believe that a few words of his could affect her so much, but she looked as though she believed it. "Why were you in that hospital, Emily?" he asked carefully, hoping he wouldn't offend her.

For a moment, he thought he saw her hands tighten around the edge of the table, but when she leapt to her feet her cheerful grin was once more in place. "Not telling!" she said in a sing-song voice, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. "I've gotta keep some secrets from you, don't I? Otherwise you'd think I'm boring!"

And with that, she skipped back towards the path home, belting out "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" at the top of her lungs and leaving Alphonse to clean up.

The next morning, Alphonse had just finished drying the breakfast dishes when Winry came around the corner from the hall phone, which had just rung. "That was Emily," she announced. "She asked to borrow a couple books yesterday, but she forgot to pick them up on her way home. Do you think you could run them down for me, Al?"

"Sure," Alphonse agreed, hanging up the dish towel. He had intended to take it easy today anyway. "She lives in the old Harrison place, right? And you can stop smirking, Brother," he added, not bothering to glance over.

Edward sipped his coffee with dignity. "I'm just saying it's about time you found a girlfriend, Grandpa."

Rolling his eyes, Alphonse headed for the door. "She's not my girlfriend. And just because you got married when you were twenty doesn't mean everyone has to."

He got only an eloquent slurp in reply.

Emily had requested a book about the basic components of automail arms, and two about the effects of large automail on the body. They were rather heavy, but it was only a short walk down the road to the little house that had been empty for the better part of ten years. He was glad she had moved in; it had been an eyesore for too long.

When he reached the house, he barely recognized it. She must have hired someone to fix the shingles on the roof, and it looked newly painted as well – a cheery shade of robin's egg blue that he was almost certain she had picked out herself. The overgrown wilderness that had once swamped the house had been cut back and tamed; now grass covered the yard in front of the house, and what looked like a vegetable patch stretched across the entire left side.

As he neared the porch, he heard a voice calling to him. "Hey, good morning! Just leave those on the porch and come help, 'kay?"

Curious, Alphonse did as he was told and followed the voice around the corner to the vegetable patch. Emily knelt in the middle of a row of tomatoes, weeding. She had tied her unruly hair back in a blue scarf printed with yellow ducks, and her grin mirrored the smiley face on her shirt. She waved him over with her trowel, and gestured to the plants. "Here, help me weed! They're almost ready for harvesting."

Within moments, he was kneeling in the next row, pulling up green shoots without the slightest idea what he was doing. His mother had kept a vegetable garden, but after she had died there was no time to focus on tomatoes or carrots, and his alchemy had never focused on plants either. Emily patiently explained to him how to tell what was a weed and what wasn't, and together they progressed down the row.

"Hey, Alphonse," Emily spoke up after a while. "I just wanna say that I really like you."

Alphonse peeked over at her between the bulging tomatoes, feeling a hot blush creeping up his neck, but she was chopping at a stubborn weed with her trowel and didn't notice.

"I mean, I've been kinda daydreaming about you for a long time, and you always seemed like this great hero. I always thought that if I ever got to meet you again, you wouldn't live up to my expectations. But you know...you really have."

"Um...thanks, I guess." Alphonse ducked his head over the plants.

"So I have a proposition!" she continued cheerfully, straightening up and stretching out the kinks in her back. "How 'bout you be my boyfriend while you're here?"

He tried not to stare at her. He really did. But he had never met anyone so forward in his life, at least not in this way. "Uh..."

Her face immediately fell. Her disappointed expression looked positively mournful in comparison with her usual cheerfulness. "Oh. You've already got a girlfriend, don't you?"

"No, no!" He said hastily. "That's not it; it just...I...sure. Yeah, I can be your boyfriend for now, if you like." Besides, he reasoned with himself, I'll have to leave in a week and then probably it'll all be over.

Instantly, she brightened again like the sun emerging from the clouds. "Great! Don't worry, you don't have to take me to fancy restaurants or anything. There's not much around Risenpool, but I like it here. We can just hang out." She got to her feet, brushing off her bare knees. "Here, come on inside and I'll make us some lemonade! Oh, and throw those weeds on the compost over there." She gestured over her shoulder and headed back inside, whistling.

And so began the strangest relationship Alphonse had ever known.

Just as Alphonse had predicted, their arrangement was short-lived. Emily joined Winry and the girls in seeing the men off after their week at home. Drawing him aside for a moment, Emily said matter-of-factly, "Well, it's been fun, but I'm not gonna ask you to hold onto your promise when you're in Central."

He tried to stammer out an apology, but she cut across him with a light-hearted grin.

"No, no. See, this way we can both pursue our own interests. Who knows? Maybe you'll meet a really sweet girl in Central, or I'll see some hot guy around here and forget all about you!"

Leaving him with that thought to comfort him, she waved cheerily as he climbed aboard the train.

But Emily's prediction never came true. When Edward and Alphonse returned home three weeks later, she stood on the platform waiting for them with the girls. By way of greeting, she told him brightly, "Well, I haven't met anyone that caught my fancy. How 'bout you?"

"Uh...n-no..."

Her grin widened, deepening the dimples on either side. "Great! Then you wanna be my boyfriend again?"

Alphonse agreed, because he couldn't see any harm in it and because he found it extremely hard to deny her when her blue-grey eyes were so bright and earnest.

And so they continued for the next several months, agreeing to 'go out' (though they never went anywhere much) while he was in Risenpool, then breaking it off when he returned to Central. The more Alphonse got to know Emily, the more he liked her. He was used to being around boisterous people; the Elric home was always a noisy place. But Emily was cut out of a different cloth from his family, and the difference could be rather unsettling at times. She always said exactly what she thought, often at the expense of politeness or general decorum. In another person, this could have made her obnoxious, but once Alphonse got used to it he didn't mind, because it revealed what an honest, kind heart she had.

"Your hair looks awful," she told Trisha one day when she showed up for work, forgoing any sort of greeting. But before Trisha could look hurt, Emily smiled and continued, "But if you take out those pigtails and just tie it back – like this... There! Now we can see how beautiful your hair really is!"

Alphonse poked his head out into the hall and saw Trisha examining her new hairdo in the hall mirror. Rather than the fluffy pigtails she had been experimenting with that morning, her light hair fell in waves over her shoulders, held back by two narrow strands from behind her ears. "You're right!" she said, gently patting her hair. "Thanks, Emily!"

After observing her in many similar situations, after making her breathless with laughter at his corny jokes, after spending hours upon hours with her every time he was in Risenpool, Alphonse was hardly surprised when Emily stopped breaking off their relationship every time he went back to Central. He had to endure Winry's knowing smiles and Edward's snickering, but...he liked Emily. He really did. He had had crushes on a few people before, even Mrs. Mustang before she married, but Emily felt different. Most of the time, she just felt like a friend, but there were a few times when she would just tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and look so pretty that something would clench inside him.

So when he found out, one blustery November morning, that Emily's birthday was the next day, he knew he would have to do something special for her. He racked his brains for the rest of the day, trying to think of what he could give her. They never did much on their so-called 'dates'; usually they just went for a walk, or he dropped by her house and ended up helping her in the garden. She had assured him many times that she didn't care for fancy restaurants or motion pictures, and he couldn't think of anything she had mentioned wanting. He was beginning to get desperate when it hit him.

The next morning, he crunched his way over to her house through the frost, so that he could catch her before she came to the Elrics' for work. Emily came to the door, shivering and munching on a piece of toast. "Oh! Hey, Al!"

"Happy birthday, Emily!" He gave her a one-armed hug, made especially awkward by having to dodge the toast. "But you have to come outside for your present."

"Ooh, you're cruel," Emily said, shoving the rest of her breakfast into her mouth and pulling on an overcoat.

Alphonse led her around the house to the right side, which was mostly vacant except for the old oak tree that had been there ever since he could remember. Everyone in the village waited for it to fall down with every storm that passed through; it leaned dangerously close to the upper windows, but so far it had remained upright. Alphonse had been a little nervous about it for a long time, now that there was someone actually living here.

So now, he checked to make sure Emily was watching, then knelt down by the large, gnarled roots. He clapped his hands, pressed them against the trunk, and closed his eyes as he activated the transmutation circle in his mind. He could hear the crackle of electricity and the groaning of the wood as the tree shifted, but he didn't open his eyes until it was over. Then he looked up, seeing how well it had turned out.

He had opened a gap in the middle of the trunk, but in such a way that the tree was still alive. Taking some of the wood from the upper branches and shortening the tree, he had fashioned a little roof over the opening, adding a little round table and cutting curved benches into the sides of the trunk. He had completed it all by adjusting the roots so that they made a few makeshift steps leading up to it.

When he looked over at Emily, he saw her hands covering her mouth and her eyes round and shining. She seemed speechless for a few moments, then she suddenly hopped up and down, squealing, "A gazebo!" Then she insisted on bringing her breakfast outside and sharing it with him on the little round table. Alphonse only grinned and observed with pleasure how a smaller dimple had appeared higher up on one cheek because she was smiling so wide.

Emily loved her gazebo. Alphonse would often come to see her, and she would be sitting there shelling peas, or writing a letter to her parents in Rush Valley, or sewing toes onto her socks. Even as the weather grew colder and colder, she still insisted on sitting there. Concerned for her health, Alphonse finally managed to convince her to sit in the house when he threatened to undo his work and turn it into a normal tree again.

But one day, when he came to spend the afternoon with her since she had left work early, he found her bundled up in her coat and scarf, sitting in the gazebo. Sighing at her stubbornness, Alphonse shuffled through the snow towards her. It was only when he drew closer that he realized her face was buried in her arms on the little round table, and her shoulders were shaking.

In two bounds, he was at her side. "Emily, what's wrong?"

She looked up in shock, then hurriedly tried to wipe her tears away, looking flustered. Alphonse handed her his handkerchief and sank onto the bench across from her. He wanted to rub her arm comfortingly, but she leaned back against the trunk as she tried to master herself. "It's just...Winry told me...'bout Sara."

Alphonse's heart sank even as relief poured over him that nothing was wrong with her. "Oh," he said softly.

Emily sniffled and wiped her eyes again, then let out a shaky breath. "I saw one of your old photo albums, and I was looking through it. Then I saw this old family portrait, and there was you 'n Winry 'n Ed...and three girls. So I asked Winry about it...and she told me."

"Yeah." He smiled sadly. "She would have been four back in September."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, dabbing at her eyes again.

"It's okay. These things happen. And I think it's better to remember her, even if it makes us sad, than to never talk about her."

Emily nodded glumly. "Must've been really hard for Winry."

"Yeah. It was hard for all of us."

Looking out across the white hills of Risenpool, Emily murmured, "She told me that even though she lost her baby...she was glad she could love her for two years, at least."

Alphonse nodded, trying to keep his tone light because Emily's lips were trembling. "I think it would be wonderful to have a child all of my own. A baby to hold and love, and watch it grow up... Don't you think so?"

It took a moment before Emily gave him a weak smile and said, "Yeah." But then she cleared her throat and said, "It's getting cold out, though. Let's go inside."

Alphonse followed her, and all he could think about was how much it warmed his heart that she had been so affected by other people's griefs.

A few days later, Emily recruited Alphonse to help her crack nuts to put on the top of a cake she was taking over to share with everyone later. While she took the cake out of the oven and began to mix the frosting, Alphonse sat at the kitchen table and set to work. "Hey, Al," she said, out of the blue. "How come you were in that hospital all those years ago?"

Alphonse had gotten used to her way of abruptly bringing up a new topic as if they had been talking about it all along. "Well, it's a long story..." he said uncertainly, selecting another nut.

She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "There's a lot of nuts to crack too."

He chuckled. "Well, do you know anything about Equivalent Trade?"

So he told her everything, starting at the beginning with the ill-judged human transmutation and going through all the adventures he had experienced with his brother. Emily gasped in all the right places, sometimes turning around and forgetting to stir, so caught up was she in the story. Alphonse had no qualms about telling her everything, because he knew her well enough now to know that she would never use this information against him.

"So then I had to stay in the hospital for a month," he finished, brushing the last few scraps of nutshell into the trash can. "I was still skinny as a broom when I left, but at least I got my coordination back and everything." He looked up at Emily, who was thoughtfully spreading the cream-cheese frosting on top of the cake. "What about you?" he asked, grinning. "Don't worry about keeping secrets; there's no way I could think you're boring now."

Emily laughed, but she didn't look at him as she fetched his bowl of ground nuts and began to sprinkle them over the top. "Well...my story's nowhere near as interesting as yours. See...I was anorexic back then."

Alphonse stared at her back, hardly able to believe it...but, as he thought back to his vague memories of that skinny girl in the hospital, he realized that it fit. "But...why?"

All the nuts were used up, but Emily didn't turn around. Two long seconds ticked loudly on the clock before she said slowly, "Well...I had this boyfriend, see. I thought he loved me but...he was a jerk, frankly. He had this idea of what the perfect girl was, and...instead of just telling him to forget it like I should have...I tried to be that girl. So I made myself act all submissive, I wore makeup, I grew out my hair...and I was too fat for him, so I just...stopped eating."

Slowly, Alphonse got to his feet and approached her, but she still didn't look at him. "In case you were wondering, I don't think you're fat."

She turned to smile briefly at him, but even though she turned away again almost immediately, he caught the sight of tears in her eyes.

Of course, their relationship wasn't always perfect. Alphonse would lose his temper over her spontaneity, because she wanted to do something that interfered with plans he had made weeks ahead of time. Emily got upset with him when he kept on coming over to her house every day, complaining that she never had any time to herself once her work with Winry was done, and he raised his voice as he pointed out that he only had a week with her, and maybe she would like to have all the time in the world to herself. She gave him the cold shoulder after hearing him talking on the phone to some other woman, hanging up after saying, "I love you too." He woke up in a bad mood one day and the only things he could think of saying were complaints about the way she looked or acted.

But most of the time they got along very well, and they always managed to patch things up again after their rare arguments. One would find the other and apologize, and then they would laugh and be friends again. Emily told him that she just needed an hour or so to unwind by herself after work, and Alphonse explained about Gloria, the fatherless girl who was now studying in one of the most prestigious schools in the country.

Whenever he had daydreamed about having a girlfriend, Alphonse had always imagined he would find some gentle, quiet girl with a fondness for flowers and kittens, who had a cute smile and a soft voice. Emily was nothing like his mental image of the perfect woman for him (though she did like flowers), but as the months rolled past Alphonse found himself growing fonder and fonder of her. He began to regret saying goodbye to her at the end of the week, and the weeks in Central seemed to drag past much more slowly than usual.

The only thing he didn't really like about Emily was that she never let him touch her. Oh, she would accept a hand up when their walks took them to steeper trails, and she always gave him a quick sideways hug when she met him at the train station or the Elrics' house. But she always shied away from him when he tried to put an arm around her shoulders, or take her hand in his. Alphonse had learned long ago that not everyone liked touch as much as he did. Edward would often give him a friendly nudge or pat on the head as he walked past because he knew Alphonse liked it, but he didn't care himself. It had been a long time since the novelty of physical sensation had worn off, but Alphonse still liked the reminder, when people touched him, that he was real and he was loved.

All he wanted was to show Emily, even if just by a hand on her shoulder, what she had come to mean to him. He knew it might not be as important to her, and he knew better than to force it on her. But as he observed her around his family, he discovered to his confusion that she was almost as physical as he was. She would punch Edward playfully on the arm or tug on his long hair when he teased her. She would hug Winry, tickle Nina, and run her fingers through Trisha's wavy hair. He could see her love for them in every interaction. And though he was sure she liked him...whenever she came close to him, all those physical signs seemed instantly shut off.

Even on his birthday, when she came rushing up late for the party, she thrust a kitten into Alphonse's arms and proceeded to hug Winry and slap Edward on the back of the head for saying they'd decided to eat her slice of cake too. Though Alphonse was overjoyed with this gift – a tiny ball of long, fluffy grey fur whose faint mews instantly melted his heart – he was a little disappointed when she stepped out of his embrace before he'd had a chance to say more than, "Thank you."

What was he missing? Emily beamed at him when he told her how much her gift meant to him, and it was obvious from the gift itself that she cared about him. She'd listened to his fond reminiscences about his first cat, Wobbles, who had died years ago. She'd scoured all the farmsteads of Risenpool for the past month, searching for a cat with kittens that would be old enough, then carefully selected the prettiest one she could find. She'd understood how much he loved animals, and cats especially, so she had gotten him exactly what he wanted. He could ask for nothing more.

Well, he could, but he was afraid that if he did, everything would crumble away. It seemed like such a simple thing to ask: "Can I just hold your hand for a few minutes?" But she must have a reason for not wanting that, so he kept quiet about it even when his heart felt ready to burst.

One evening towards the end of May, Alphonse was walking across the parade grounds, leaving Headquarters as the sun set, when he looked up and stopped short. There, just beyond the barrier where the guards stood on either side, was Emily with two people who could only be her parents. Her mother was plump, with a cheerful, round face spattered with freckles like Emily's and red hair up in a bun. The father, on the other hand, was tall and thin, bespectacled and completely bald. All three were smiling brightly as he came up to them.

"So this is the famous Alphonse Elric?" Mrs. Atwood chuckled. "You're right, Emily, he is handsome."

Before Alphonse could ask what was going on, Mr. Atwood grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. "Glad to make your acquaintance."

"Um...the pleasure's all mine." Alphonse looked pleadingly at Emily, and only then did he realize how beautiful she looked. She had somehow gotten her flyaway hair under control; it hung in orderly ringlets down her back, held back only by a barrette. She wore a long, sweeping navy blue dress that left her shoulders bare, and little white teardrops dangled from her ears.

She smiled brightly at his confusion. "Mom and Dad were coming up here to see some relatives, so I thought I'd join them and surprise you!"

"Well...I'm sure surprised."

All three of them laughed, and Mr. Atwood said jovially, "Well, tonight's our treat, Al! We know a good place."

"Oh." Alphonse glanced around at their clothes; Mr. Atwood was wearing a nice suit, complete with bow tie. "I should go back home and change-"

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Atwood said, swatting at him as though his worries were flies. "You look so dashing in that military uniform. Just come like that."

So before he had a firm grasp on the situation, Alphonse found himself sitting in one of the finest restaurants in Central, listening to Mr. Atwood tell animated stories about the hospital he ran in Rush Valley and trying not to stare at how the candlelight made Emily's whole face glow. He had expected to be nervous to finally meet her parents, but they were as personable as Emily herself, and he soon found himself at his ease with them.

Long before he grew tired of their presence, their meal was over, the bill paid, and they stood outside on the pavement. "It was so wonderful getting to meet you at last!" Mrs. Atwood cried, hugging him. She whispered Emily's ring size in his ear, then stepped away and immediately engaged her daughter in a loud conversation about whether or not it looked like it would rain.

Alphonse was still blinking after her and trying to figure out what he thought or felt, when Mr. Atwood shook his hand again and said in a low voice, under his wife's cover, "Emily doesn't know this, but our primary purpose of coming was to meet you. And I must say, you have our wholehearted approval and permission."

Feeling winded, Alphonse breathlessly said goodbye to them all and watched them cheerfully start down the street. Then he slowly made his way back home, trying to process what they'd said. Somehow, though he had known for a long time that he loved her, and was pretty sure she reciprocated, he had never quite gotten as far as thinking about marriage.

Now he thought with all his might. He thought all the way back to the apartment he shared with his brother, and lay awake in his bed thinking still more. He thought over everything he knew about her, all the time they'd spent together, the times they'd fought and apologized, the things they'd done for each other, the way she often brought a sweet ache to the pit of his stomach. He thought of the ideas they shared, the things they disagreed on, their plans for the future, their stories of the past. He thought and thought, then rolled over and thought some more.

The next day, as soon as he left Headquarters, he paid a visit to the jeweler's.

The entire train ride back to Risenpool at the end of the month was an agony. Edward noticed, of course, and asked with genuine concern what the problem was, but Alphonse assured him he would know in a few days. Naturally, Edward was frustrated at this uncharacteristic secrecy, but he let it go when he saw how agitated Alphonse was. All Alphonse could think of was what he would say, how he would phrase it. Even the thought that she would probably accept him was little comfort. This was one of the most important decisions he had made in his life, and he was terrified he would screw it up.

There was no chance to talk to Emily the first day; as soon as she met him at the platform she had to rush off to her garden to put up beanpoles, and she absolutely refused to let him come and help, saying he needed his rest after the long trip. Alphonse gleaned little rest from that night, however; every few minutes he would remember what he was intending to do, and his stomach would tie itself in knots.

The next afternoon, Alphonse finally managed to catch Emily's attention long enough to suggest a walk down by the river. She agreed, and they set off. As soon as the houses were hidden behind another hill, Alphonse knew the time had come. They strolled along slowly by the side of the river, not saying anything. Alphonse's heart was pounding, making it hard to think of where he was supposed to start. He had to say something soon, or she would think something was wrong. Finally, he chose a spot on the sloping bank of the river and sat down, patting the grass beside him for her to sit down as well.

As she settled down next to him, he watched her from the corner of his eye. She was wearing her navy blue jeans and her favorite smiley-face shirt. Her hair, which she had grown out over the past several months, hung down her back in a half-ponytail. She wiggled her multicolored toes in her sandals and gazed down at the rushing water with a small, contented smile. How would she go about asking this question? In his mind's eye, he saw her turn to him and say abruptly, I've been thinking that we should get married. What about you? The butterflies in his stomach settled down, and he smiled fondly. Yes, that would be exactly how she would say it.

"What's up?" Emily asked, noticing his smile.

Still smiling up at the clear blue sky, Alphonse said, "I'm really glad I got to know you, Emily. I've never met anyone like you before, but...you make me very happy."

"Oh...thanks," she said sheepishly.

"In fact," he said, keeping his voice calm though his heart was pounding again, "over the past few months I've realized that, well...I don't want to give you up. It was only just recently that I figured out how to act on that, but...I think it's high time I gave you this."

He fished the dark red box out of his pocket and opened it, holding it towards her. He'd chosen the ring carefully, trying to find one that was perfect for her. The one he'd finally decided on was a simple gold band with a diamond in the middle, but there were two tiny light-green stones set on either side so that if you looked at it in the right angle, it almost made the center diamond look green as well.

Raising his eyes to Emily's face, Alphonse saw a great turmoil written across her features. His heart quailed inside him as she took a deep breath, glanced into his eyes, then turned away. "Al...there's something I need to tell you."

His hand dropped back to the ground, clutching the box with all his might as he waited for her to spell out his doom.

Emily clasped her arms around her knees and stared at the river a while more before she said, "You remember that boyfriend I told you about one time?"

"The jerk?" Alphonse tried to crack a smile, but his face felt stiff.

"Yeah. Well, see..." She bit her lip, uncharacteristically timid. "I thought it was love," she murmured at last, determinedly staring at the yellow smiley faces on her toes. "I would do anything for him, and I thought he loved me for it. But now I realize how stupid I was. He just wanted to have power over someone, and when you're fifteen there's not many other places you can get that. He only wanted me to satisfy himself."

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes momentarily, then continued. "I should have known better, but back then I just didn't care. So I guess it's no surprise that I got pregnant."

The blood was pounding in his ears. He felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach, but he wasn't quite sure how he felt about this, so he kept quiet.

Emily stared at the hands knotted around her knees, seeming to be watching something completely different. "I was so scared. I was fifteen. How could I have a baby? So of course I told my boyfriend what had happened; I thought he could help somehow. But he just broke up with me instead. I was too much trouble for him, so he didn't want anything to do with me anymore. I didn't know what to do. I tried to hide it at first, but of course I realized that wouldn't work for too long. So I decided to get an abortion."

Alphonse couldn't keep back the small intake of breath at these words. Emily only paused for a moment, then continued, looking anywhere but at him.

"It was supposed to be just a quick procedure, and then no one would have to know. But when they were done...I just wouldn't stop bleeding. And you gotta remember, I was still half-starved, not to mention depressed after the jerk boyfriend broke up with me. So it was the next day or something when I fainted...and then it all came out. My parents were more disappointed than angry, but they had to take me to the hospital in Central. I'd gotten an infection on top of everything, and...well, my body was in no shape to fight it off. By the time they got the infection under control and got some meat back on my bones, they told me...that I'd never be able to have another baby again."

Her lips were trembling, and when she continued her voice wobbled dangerously. "And whenever I tell this to another boyfriend, they always backtrack real fast, then they just disappear. And...And I don't blame them, 'cause...who'd want d-damaged goods? S-So if you wanna leave too, Al...I understand. I can't give you what you w-want..." A sob broke out of her throat, and she covered her face with her hands. "B-But I don't want you to g-go, because I...I don't know wh-what I'm going to do without you!"

Alphonse stared at her as blow after blow rained down on his heart. "'Damaged goods'?" he finally whispered. "Is that what you think of yourself? Emily...you're not a thing. You're not something just designed to give someone pleasure, or a power trip. Anyone who tries to tell you that doesn't deserve you in the slightest."

She only sniffled and kept looking at her feet.

"I love you, Emily," Alphonse continued, setting down the ring and kneeling beside her, watching the side of her face even though she refused to look at him. "I don't care what you look like, what you've done, anything you can or can't give me. I love you. You're all I want – you, the way you are."

Impatiently, Emily swiped her hands across her eyes and turned to look at him at last. Her whole face was red like her hair, and silvery stains streaked down her cheeks. "Doesn't anything I've said change the way you look at me?" she cried, almost sounding frustrated.

Alphonse looked deep into her eyes, the pain in them stabbing at his own. "Yes. It makes me love you even more."

Then, because her lips were still trembling, he leaned in and kissed them.

When he pulled back, more tears than before were pouring from her eyes. At first, he didn't understand, but then she pulled him back and kissed him with all her might. And then he felt the force of all those months when she resisted his touch, when she pulled away from his embrace, when she wouldn't let him so much as touch her cheek. All those lost moments that had piled up for so long poured into the pressure of her lips on his, and as warm relief gushed through his entire being, he became aware of two streaks of moisture on his face that he didn't think were Emily's.

Slowly, Alphonse and Emily made their way back to the Elrics' home. The sun was setting, the river gurgled past, and a light breeze lifted their hair and cooled their eyes, which were still somewhat hot and itchy. They walked with their arms around each other; Emily seemed to fit perfectly against his side. Every now and again, he would lift his left hand and place it over hers, which was pressed against his side.

They talked of many things as they slowly meandered back up the hill. They discussed when the wedding would be, who they would invite, what sort of colors the decorations would be. They decided to make their permanent residence in Risenpool, where Winry could help Emily, rather than living in Central only. They decided to go shopping in the next town over to find Alphonse a ring, because he had completely forgotten in his concern to get hers.

It was mostly the same as it had always been. They laughed and talked as easily as ever, and agreed on almost everything. But there was a peace between them Alphonse had never felt before. A complete, wonderful understanding.

As they reached the top of the hill, Emily slipped out from under Alphonse's arm and skipped at top speed towards the yard of the Elrics' home. "Guess who just proposed to me!" she sang out, waving her ring proudly in the air.

Winry, who had been hanging up the laundry, squealed and hugged Emily. Nina and Trisha jumped up from their alchemy notes and rushed up to her shrieking, "Wow! Now you'll really be part of the family!" and "Can I be a flower girl?" Edward, sitting in the rocking chair on the porch, let his newspaper drop down into his lap and gaped at Emily as though he couldn't believe his ears.

Alphonse smiled and followed at a more sedate pace, hands in pockets. He surveyed the scene with utter contentment, and when Emily turned to beam at him, he grinned. He knew he had made the right choice.