The front door crashed open and in blew a whirlwind of snow and two very damp boys.

"Mom!" Alphonse yelped. "Ed threw ice at me!" He hurled himself at Trisha's legs and she had to grab the doorframe for balance.

"It only hit your coat!" Edward's cheeks were flushed from the cold, but his face turned further red with indigence. "But you deserved it, you kicked down my snow fort!"

"It was an accident! I tripped! Ask Winry, she saw!"

"Boys, boys, enough!" Trisha said in her best everyone-stop-what-you're-doing-and-look-at-Mom voice. It wasn't one that she used often, but she liked to think she was pretty good at it. "Edward, don't throw ice—what if there had been rocks in it? Imagine how bad you'd feel if you'd hurt your brother. Alphonse, be more careful next time. How would you feel if it had been something that you'd built?"

It took all of Trisha's strength to not smile when her sons exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"Sorry, Al," Edward said after a moment. "I shouldn't've gotten so mad."

"That's okay," Alphonse said, loosening his grip on Trisha's legs. "I didn't mean to ruin your fort. It was really cool."

Trisha put rested a hand on Alphonse's head. His hair was soaking wet from the snow and it stuck up in funny spikes. After a moment he squirmed away and shook his head like a dog, splattering drops of water on to her nose, and making her laugh.

"Why don't you take off your winter clothes?" she said fondly. "We can make hot chocolate before dinner, if you'd like."

The boys cheered, and Edward kicked off his snow pants while Alphonse dutifully hung his jacket on the low coat rack.

"Can we make it by ourselves, Mom?" Edward asked with gleaming eyes. "I know how, and I'll make sure Al doesn't touch anything hot."

Trisha hesitated. With their tousled hair and skin still flushed from the cold, they just looked so painfully young. But she couldn't deny how Edward's face was beginning to lose some of its childish roundness, and how Alphonse seemed to grow taller every day.

"Alright," she said after a moment. "But please be very careful."

"We will!" Edward rushed to the kitchen with Alphonse following, like always. Trisha watched from the hall as Edward filled the kettle and Alphonse stood on a chair to reach the cocoa powder and sugar. Edward struck a match and Trisha's breath caught as he turned to light the stove. But he was unafraid as the burner burst into life, and Trisha willed her breathing to steady. She watched as Alphonse carefully measured the sugar into a bowl; as Edward stirred in the cocoa powder. It hurt, a little, to think that they didn't need her for this simple task anymore.

"Mom, Al wants to use milk instead of water! Tell him he's not allowed to!"

Or, perhaps they still did.