Aureate Bonds

Summary: Inside Gluttony, Edward took a gamble to get him, Ling, & Envy out of the unending dark. He used some of Envy's Stone & opened the Gate. But the equation turned out unbalanced & Ed... died. Yet Ed isn't the sort to be beaten easily & he swore he'd be back.

Ratings and Warnings: Rated "M" for sake of expediency and my typical writing style. Intermittent foul and 'descriptive' language, a bit of sarcasm, etc. Oh, and there will be other things noted as they come relevant.

Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or any other referenced materials, plain and simple. All non-original content is owned by all respective copyright owners. This is not being produced for money but rather for my own amusement.

Chapter Relevant References: Star Wars, Doctor Who, Tangled

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I:

The first thing Edward knew after regaining consciousness was… warmth. He was warm, secure, and cuddled into something that thumped loudly but reassuringly steady about him. He couldn't open his eyes, but he knew somehow he was safe. The second thing he knew was that he could feel… feel his entire body but most especially his left leg and right arm. The suddenly returned limbs were tucked against his body and while he could wiggle about a bit, he couldn't properly move to examine them even if he could have opened his eyes. The wonder at having his limbs restored made him move, pushing to find a way out of this warm, safe place as horror surged through him. If his limbs were restored, then Alphonse might be dead!

He suddenly recalled those endless moments of time within Gluttony's false Gate. He remembered all the anger, the rage, and the frustration. He could remember slogging through the blood, reuniting with Ling, and Envy appearing out of the blackness. He recalled the words Envy spoke, the horror he felt, and the fight that ended with him nearly being eaten. Then, of course, came the recalling of the circle from Xerxes meant to create a human and how he'd painted the circle out as he demanded more answers from Envy. And he used that circle and a part of Envy's Stone. He remembered seeing himself before the real Gate and Truth's mocking words and seeing Alphonse sitting there emaciated and frail. He remembered…

…He remembered dying.

It was a sharp thought that made him still.

He'd not used enough of the Stone from Envy and truthfully he would have used all of Envy up had he been capable of thinking about it, predilections towards using something as awful as the Stone and his own distaste for killing aside. After all, how many more times might he have actually a chance at defeating such a terrible enemy so easily handed to him? Then again, he didn't like the idea of murder and he willingly allowed himself to fall between realities with the prayer his madcap plan would all work in his mind. He'd been dumped in the more familiar yet no less horrifying place outside reality, catching sight of Al's terribly thin flesh and blood body, and knew that his theory had worked. Truth had laughed at him, telling him he was a fool and promptly jerked the rug out from underneath him. He'd been drug into his Gate and sent tumbling into the abyss and he'd not been able to get back to reality and Alphonse as he had hoped. Instead, he'd fallen into blackness with the knowledge that his life had ended. Suddenly he panicked, thrashing about again and wanting out of wherever this place was. But he couldn't get out despite the slightly giving quality to the walls. Was this a prison?!

Something outside of whatever this place was made itself known and it was something large, stroking at the limits of what he could get to. He could hear words but he couldn't understand them really. They were mumbled and muted and he was scared. Where was he? He couldn't make heads or tails of where he was. That damn thumping sound was loud in his ears and, where it had been comforting before, it was distracting and upsetting…

As he shifted away from the sound, he felt something coming from his navel and brushing at his skin as it floated about him in this strange place. It was fastened like a tether and he touched at it as best as he could before he suddenly realized what he was feeling, what he was experiencing.The realization crashed down on him with all the force of a maelstrom on a tiny ship caught out at sea even as he pushed the tether away in a futile effort to reject what he knew to be true.

The thumping sound was a heart.

That thing outside had to have been a hand.

He had a fucking umbilical cord emerging from his middle.

He was in a womb.

The thought made him horrified and wish for escape even if he could do nothing about it. He was in some lady that was in all likelihood not his mother as she was dead unless he'd managed to go backwards in time and not just simply die to be apparently reincarnated. The hand rubbed at the outside of the belly and the words that were somewhat garbled and muted had a reassuring tone and he shifted again, curling up slightly to get away and mindful of the umbilical cord. He did not want to pinch himself off and kill himself despite how awful this situation was. Edward wished he could have opened his eyes but he couldn't and, while the amazing-ness of pregnancy and the creation of life were not really lost to him, he certainly didn't want to be the one to be born again. The idea of going through childhood once more was unappealing and he knew he'd be useless to his brother until he got old enough…

And that period of time was something he didn't have.

He wasn't sure how long he remained in the womb or even how long he'd been in the most primal of cradles when it came to mothers and babes before he'd become aware. There wasn't exactly a clock inside the woman even if he had had the ability to use his eyes and his awareness of the world was warped because he woke and slept frequently and when he did have a sense of time it was because he dreamed or perhaps 'hallucinated' as sometimes he'd be 'awake' when dreaming and not because he was overly aware.

He remembered trying to shift about and listening to the people that would interact with him through the wall of skin that formed the barriers of his intelligible world. Sometimes the womb would be sent into a contraction, tightening slightly about him and the fluid around him, but would let up again after a bit. Eventually, his head came to be pointed down as he grew larger and he knew from what little he'd researched about human reproductive habits that he was within the final months of the pregnancy and that during this time he'd gain the majority of his weight.

Whoever was outside the confines of his current world seemed to be nice, for he could hear kind words and could feel the vibrations of fond touches to the wall. Occasionally, there was an odd press of something and he didn't like that much as it roved over the belly for it wasn't a hand. It felt far smaller and sometimes a faint chill would come down to where he was and he'd try to shift away from it. Whatever it was, it knew where he was and would track him down in the ever shrinking area as he grew, pausing on occasion and then shifting slightly again. Granted, he had little space to move in, but whatever it was, he was less than thrilled with it and wished it would just go away.

Eventually, it was time for him to be born. He had been asleep at the time and had been completely unaware what the settling he'd done lately meant. He had been trying to be mindful and kind to the woman who carried him even if he was here unwillingly and despite the things she did to him. She had developed a nasty habit during the earlier months and had often imbibed juice, waking him as cold shocked through him in the wee hours of what he assumed was the morning and the sugar flooded his system and made him uncomfortably hyper. He'd gotten a few shots off for each time she did that, purposefully kicking at her lungs or head-butting at her bladder or even shooting a little hand at the general direction of her spine. His favorite spot was the solid area of her navel if he could get to it. But this time, it wasn't cold juice waking him up this time. It was a tight pressure about him that startled him awake and unlike earlier contractions it felt different. At first, he didn't know what was going on until the contraction came again and there were startled and worried words being spoken as her heart rate picked up rapidly and the loud sound reverberated like a war drum in his ears.

A hand smoothed over the outside of her belly and he pressed into it, hoping to give her comfort. It wasn't her fault he was here. Well, technically it wasn't her fault he was now her baby. It was her fault that she was pregnant. Hopefully. The idea of rape was a repugnant one.

Edward wasn't sure how long he'd remained in that dark place that contracted when the amniotic fluid keeping him suspended started to vanish. That meant serious business and he knew it would soon be time. Perhaps it had been a good thing that he had been around Satella's birth of her son. It gave him an idea to the rhythm of things if nothing else. A very loose rhythm but a rhythm. He tried not to worry or panic. There was no way he'd die considering he'd been very careful with his umbilical cord and nothing ought to possibly cause him issues while coming out.

Outside his temporary housing, he heard his 'mother' groan and be shuffled about before laying back in what had to be a bed. As fascinating as being aware through the process of birth was, Edward was not really having any fun. He also quietly resolved to himself he'd never get a girl into this condition as the yowls of pain and the pants of effort coming to his ears despite being inside her body were definitely not something he wanted to inflict upon a female. Between the groans that reminded him of Satella's birth and his current predicament of knowing he was about to go through every centimeter of birth, he was definitely against getting a woman knocked up.

Slowly being shoved out upon each successive contraction, he felt the top of his head push out into coolness and was glad he'd not had much in the way of vision. He heard something about 'crowning' and felt hands on him, urging him out and then it was cold and open and he couldn't help the startled coughing cry as something was stuck into his mouth to syphon off the fluid still there. There was a pain as he was severed from his mother and he complained as verbosely as he could to the mistreatment, which thanks to underdeveloped vocal cords meant he bawled loudly.

And then he heard the person holding him declare, "Congratulations, Mrs. Dyne. It's a girl."

'Oh… fuck…' So startled by the declaration, Edward Elric stopped his litany of wailed incoherent and indecipherable curses immediately and prayed he'd heard wrong. All that the surrounding adults heard was a baby fall silent and they immediately checked the infant to ensure there wasn't an issue.

There wasn't, of course, save for one very shocked baby that wasn't even sure how to best articulate the words 'what the fuck' without properly developed vocal cords.

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He, as it turned out, had not heard wrong. After being weighed, measured, and documented, he'd been carefully wrapped up and handed over to the woman that had birthed him. Another person, a man whom he assumed to be his father, came forward to lightly brush his fingers over Edward's stocking-capped head and softly said, "She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is," his mother crooned, trying to coax Ed into suckling from her breast. While not cow juice, it was still milk. "Our little Evelyn Alma."

Evelyn Alma. He'd been named Evelyn Alma. It wasn't a bad name, so to speak, but he was not enthused at all about the situation. And he was getting hungry. There was nothing else to feed on other than the woman's tit and he knew his new and fragile body wouldn't be able to take anything more than the fluid she offered for a while. He'd eventually been able to open his eyes a bit, spying out a somewhat blurred face of dark blonde hair and hazel green eyes. She was pretty, fairly close to what a feminine Alphonse would have looked like, and while he knew this was his mother he felt no real attachment to her. But he was hungry and he had little in the way of options. After a while, he began suckling at the nipple before his mouth and manfully subsisted off of the substance he had no interest in.

It took everything in him not to gag reflexively though his tiny body apparently liked it.

He got sleepy after his belly was filled… or, perhaps he should start thinking of himself as 'she'. Female. 'Of the fairer sex'. It was mind boggling. He didn't want to be a girl. He didn't want to be here and a helpless infant. Alphonse was waiting for him. Ling was still in danger. He had to tell everyone about what had happened within Gluttony's belly.

He couldn't let Al stay alone too long.

Despite these worried thoughts, he found himself growing tired. His infant body was still tiny and frail, much like Satella's baby boy was when he'd been born, and so quick to sleep. Edward didn't like it, but he accepted it. When he felt hands on him and the man's voice telling the woman that he was putting 'her' to bed, Ed cracked his eyes open to look at his apparent father. Bronze-colored short hair was his first impression and light colored brown eyes. Again, the man looked familiar like the woman and drew parallels to that bastard Hohenheim without the quite as strong jaw or the beard. He did wear glasses and his eyes were gentle. Ed huffed slightly, allowing his eyes to close again.

'I'm already hating this entire baby thing,' he thought, yawning once before dropping off into slumber.

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The Dyne family was an interesting one, Edward concluded after having been allowed from the hospital. Well, not really 'Edward' anymore. He was now a she and Edward had died. Evelyn was the name given to her now and she had to repeatedly remind herself that the Dynes were kind, nice people and that throwing fits right and left was probably not only rude but stupid. Evelyn was many things in her past life as Edward, but stupid was not really a prominent factor. Short sighted, arrogant, and any number of other 'shortcomings' but the Fullmetal Alchemist was definitely not stupid.

Evelyn's new room was actually very interesting. From what she could tell, her parents were quirky, unusual, and her father was especially the sort to mess with people's heads. What little the infant could see, she could tell that if nothing else the pair had imagination. Her mobile above her bed was apparently from some series called 'Star Wars' and her mother had been the kind to talk to her in a mature way rather than pure baby talk, telling the infant about the different things on the mobile. Sure, the woman talked in a slightly higher pitched tone to Evelyn and the sort of tone one would adopt with little babies, but at least she didn't go 'ga-ga-goo' or some bullshit like that.

There were other decorations relating to this 'Star Wars' and they liked to put her in clothes that related to their geeky ways, often encouraging some badmouthing from an older woman that Evelyn learned was her grandmother. Apparently a 'Dalek dress', whatever that was, was not appropriate for a little girl, no matter how 'cute' she appeared. Evelyn wasn't quite sure what to make of it all, but she was for the most part a happy baby and didn't cry overmuch unless she needed to be fed, changed, or put to bed. In fact, she quickly learned to soothe herself, something that her parents were honestly astonished at, and how to be just the right kind of cutesy annoying.

The Dynes apparently didn't mind fetching the plastic pacifier that Evelyn didn't care much for each time she threw it or dropped it.

She did, however, throw fits if she was put in pink or overly idiotic clothing. The young parents were amused by how their infant, going on eight months by this time and nearing October and her first Halloween, already knew exactly how she preferred to be dressed. The child had no aversion to dresses, but she did wiggle a bit more than necessary and pout heartily if they tried to put on pink clothing.

"Hey, little princess," cooed her father, scooping her up in his arms. Evelyn made a face at him, wrinkling her tiny nose. She hated being called anything related to 'small' and while she could burble at the bronze-haired man, she couldn't exactly get across she didn't like being called 'little'. "How's my girl?"

Evelyn dutifully made a noise, knowing it would make the loving man happy. Brandon, her father's name, was a good man. He held a steady job working as a police homicide detective and while Evelyn worried about him getting in over his head someday, he did good work and reminded Evelyn a good deal of a blonder and calmer Maes Hughes. It was probably the biggest reason she took to him so well. He could get away with calling her 'little' even if she didn't like it, because her heart still ached about having lost the Lieutenant Colonel. And just like she predicted, he lit up at the burble that Evelyn made sound positive. Pressing a tiny hand to his face, she considered the man. He was nothing like that bastard Hohenheim, fortunately, and she wondered if she could one day tell the man about her other life… the life before she was his daughter.

Her mother, Samantha, entered the room soon after. "Hey, there, you two," she cooed, brushing her fingers against Evelyn's face before pecking Brandon on the cheek. She was pregnant again and Evelyn wondered if it would be a boy or a girl. She knew they were having trouble with the pregnancy, though, and hoped that this baby would survive. The idea of the kind woman and man losing their second child was a bit worrisome. She'd heard Samantha's mother talk about her miscarriages before Evelyn and the former teen knew that she'd been extremely lucky to have survived the pregnancy. "Getting her ready for going over to Amelia's?"

"Yeah. Hope that she takes to Pete even if he's a bit older than her." Sam giggled.

"Don't start planning who she's to marry right away, dear. She's still less than a year old!"

Evelyn scrunched her face, not liking the idea of being matched up to anybody. And another baby? She didn't want to be around another baby! She tried very hard to remain clean and not shit all over herself at every opportunity and she didn't like the idea of meeting some other smelly critter that would probably poke at her and mouth odd sounds.

Regardless of how she felt, Evelyn found herself soon dressed in a pair of tiny jeans and a bright red hoodie top that she had grabbed ahold of and not let go last time they'd been at the store. It was a boy's top, actually, but she had liked the color and that it was a hoodie. It even had a tiny little pocket on the front that she could even put something small into! Little socks that looked like shoes went onto her feet and she had her short crop of golden blonde hair brushed gently before she was swept up and on her way in her baby seat to this Amelia's house. Honestly, sometimes being waited on hand and foot was kind of funny but most of the time she just wished they'd let her take care of herself.

The technology of this world often astounded her. The car, a van as her parents called it, was sleek looking with soft seats of fabric and a radio built in to allow the broadcast of different stations. There was even a screen that you could touch and manipulate and get to give you directions to wherever you wanted to go! And that was just the vehicle! There were these boxy things called computers and smaller 'computers' you could carry around easily called notebooks, laptops, and tablets. The phones were cordless and they functioned like tiny 'computers', too. There were televisions and microwaves and all kinds of other things that she had not much clue about but it all fascinated her anyway and made her excited to get older so that she could study.

She observed obsessively and learned much about the world around her. Fortunately, her childish staring and contemplation went mainly unnoticed though Sam thought it was 'precious' how her 'little Eve-y' was so curious. Brandon thought that his little princess would likely grow up to be a genius reflecting her parents' intellects. Evelyn had smirked as well as an infant could have. They had no idea.

Arriving at Amelia's house… Amelia Brown as Brandon loudly exclaimed upon seeing the heavy-set brown eyed and brown haired white lady in tee-shirt and jeans while the man hugged her and Sam unbuckled Evelyn from her chair… Evelyn was unsurprised when the woman took one look at her and gushed over how cute Evelyn was. She waxed poetic right on her driveway about Evelyn's golden eyes and hair, but Evelyn herself was unimpressed. It turned out, from what she could pick up from the conversation as they moved inside, that Amelia was Brandon's partner at the station. She was incredibly sharp, though her love for chocolate and junk food had put her at the 'chunky' level of fitness and she had a pair of knockers on her to rival a porn star's.

Evelyn cringed mentally at that thought. She had recalled accidentally seeing some 'porn' of Brandon's when she'd turned the television on in curiosity, accidentally turning on the DVD player, too. The unadulterated shriek of shock and the beet red face of Sam had been well worth seeing the graphic tape and Evelyn wondered if doing that actually felt that good.

Sure she'd whacked off when she'd been a teenage boy, but she wondered if the moans were for real until she remembered this was more for show than for sensation. Clinically, she observed the actions on the screen until it went dark again and Sam had turned on a sheepish Brandon, fussing at him about leaving his porno stash where babies could get to it. All Evelyn got out of it was the thought that some of the positions she saw had looked really uncomfortable.

When she came out of her thoughts about Amelia's tits, she realized she was sitting face to face with a black haired, blue eyed baby boy. He was dressed in blue overalls and blinking at her slowly and considering. Evelyn stared right back at him. That was when the baby grinned broadly and poked a finger at her and proudly declaimed "Ed!" Evelyn stared. "Ed!" the boy, Peter most likely, claimed again, reaching out to Evelyn.

She reached out to him and grasped his slightly larger hand, stifling the urge to cry. "Hugh…" she mumbled, speaking for the first time. "Hugh…" She recognized him! She recognized her old friend in the other and the boy looked extraordinarily pleased.

"They like each other!" Amelia said from outside their line of sight as Peter scooted toward Evelyn. "But… Ed?"

"That's a cute nickname," Sam mused with a huffed chuckle. "But… is she calling him something, too?" Her mother crouched down next to the pair of children, noting their grasping hands and the visibly upset look on her little girl's face. "Baby girl, what's wrong?"

"Hughes!" Evelyn managed, pressing into the older toddler.

"Hues?" Brandon wondered. "Odd first word." And then there was a pause. "She spoke her first word!"

"Say it again, sweetie," encouraged Sam, tickling at the little girl's hair.

"Eddie," soothed Peter. "S'okay."

"Know," offered Evelyn, not wanting to speak too much. It might have been too early to already be forming coherent words but she didn't care. She was just glad that she was able to be here with him. Knowing that the kind man had survived to some degree meant more than she'd thought and here and now Evelyn was really happy.

They played for several hours and Evelyn slowly realized that while Hughes had been reincarnated in this world, he didn't seem to retain an overlarge amount of memories from his previous life. In fact, what little of the rambunctious man was left often came in little starts and vanished not long after. Evelyn didn't care. Hughes was here and he was alive and healthy. Suddenly playing with the other wasn't so bad and Amelia offered up her babysitter during the day as she had a good friend that was great with her son watch over him during the day while she worked. Sam and Brandon agreed, though Evelyn didn't hear as she'd fallen asleep next to the older boy with a smile on her face.

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The next month came and at the end of October, Evelyn discovered 'Halloween'. Her parents decided to dress her up in a tiny dress that was purple and pink and somewhat old fashioned. Grumpy with the outfit, she had tried to get out of it several times, but was stopped before she could do so. Apparently it was the dress for some Disney princess… Rappy-uncle or something like that. Evelyn vaguely recalled the brightly colored movie and the frying pan wielding girl with impossibly long hair. In some ways the thought amused her because she already knew she was going to grow her hair out as long as she could until she got old enough to go back to Alphonse.

Amelia had dressed Peter up in some outfit that supposedly matched Evelyn's and she guessed that it was that guy from the movie, too. It didn't help that Peter snickered at seeing her in a dress and she sourly sulked until she got her revenge… By the time that Peter caught his breath, he was red faced and ready to nap. Apparently laughing as hard as he did was quite tiring. Evelyn just decided that it was better that she'd tickled him instead of her first instinct to punch. Peter didn't always remember being Hughes and while Hughes would have brushed off such a thing, Evelyn knew Peter wouldn't be as likely to understand. Later on, she decided, she would make sure he did get punched.

The result of Halloween was a lot of coos, a lot of pictures, and a trio of very proud parents. Amelia Brown, it turned out, had undergone in-vitro fertilization and had chosen to have a child by herself. Evelyn was surprised at that, but it wasn't like Peter was lacking attention from not having a father. By the time Halloween was over, both Evelyn and Peter were half asleep and they both had managed to get a lot of candy for their parents. Evelyn had gotten a severe amount of amusement from it all and Peter had enjoyed being fawned over.

Sighing happily in her seat, Evelyn wondered if this was just like how it had been the first time she'd been a baby. And then she frowned and blinked and sighed a good deal more unhappily. She missed Al. Sam had miscarried her child of three months and had been fighting serious depression issues over the loss of her unborn child. Evelyn, heartbroken for her new mother, had done everything she could to ease the Alphonse-esque woman's pain. Being a right mess and trying to make her laugh helped, her mother unknowing of the effort her daughter was putting into the actions and assuming the child to be doing these things naturally. Evelyn, however, just kept trying. She might not love this woman as much as Trisha Elric, but she did care about her. After a moment's thought, she readjusted the statement. She did love this woman as much as her first mother, but not quite the same. And the idea of leaving Samantha Dyne childless hurt her almost as much as not going back to Alphonse.

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Thanksgiving became an interesting holiday for Evelyn. There was apparently a lot of cooking involved, watching something called the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on the television, football (but it didn't look like any football she'd ever seen before), and a gathering time for family. Dressed in a tiny fluffy skirt of gauzy red, black baby-sized tights, little red patent leather shoes, a sweater of white stitched with red into an argyle pattern, and a red bow that managed to be nudged off rather quickly, Evelyn wondered how quickly she could (or, rather, would) mess up her clothes. Unaware of her thoughts, her parents were chattering happily in the front seat while they headed over to Grandma Wendy's house. Grandma Wendy was the evil old biddy (in Evelyn's opinion) that had been the sort to try and coax the parents into dressing Evelyn in a more girly fashion.

Samantha and Brandon both had calmly told her to try dressing Evelyn in a manner Evelyn didn't like and had gotten growled at by the child before she scooted off and dragged Peter with her. Peter hadn't stopped calling Evelyn 'Ed' and while Wendy Miller disapproved of the odd nickname, everyone else that Evelyn liked still called her that. Well, except her father. Brandon still called her 'princess'. Peter had not been anything but 'Hughes' to her, but that was a harder to explain nickname and no one understood why Evelyn insisted on calling her best friend that. Each time she did, Peter would grin brightly and those blue eyes of his would sparkle. For her, that was enough.

There were a number of other children at this Thanksgiving and they all were related to her somehow. Evelyn stayed near Peter, though, as Amelia had come along for this Thanksgiving at Brandon's insistence and of course brought her son. There were a couple other kids near their age, but Evelyn didn't care to play with them. One brat had even shoved her over and had run off giggling. Evelyn had tumbled into dog shit and she had purposefully stomped over to the brat and socked him one with all the knowledge of Teacher's lessons behind that baby fist, causing him to cry. Her knuckles smarted afterwards and she didn't really mind being yelled at by some of the adults… They all seemed to realize what had happened when she had subsequently marched up to her mother and stated very sourly, "Look. He did it." With one point at the fecal matter on her clothes, Evelyn made her point known. It was irritating to curtail her words, but she had no interest in letting these people know her real self and she was already showing a good deal of advancement already. If anyone would learn, it would be Peter, her mother and father, and Aunt Amelia.

After getting cleaned up and changed into less 'cute' clothes, Evelyn reappeared dressed in her favorite hoodie and jeans. Peter had run up, examined her, and then promptly pushed her over again with a snickered 'Shorty'.

Sprawling, Evelyn let out an ungodly shriek of rage and promptly lost control of her tongue. "Who're you callin' short?!" A moment later, everyone saw a furious Evelyn chasing a giggling Peter while she shouted after him. "Get back here, Hughes!"

"No way!" Peter laughed, running more steadily than Evelyn. "Catch me, Shorty!" The little girl eventually stumbled and fell on her unsure legs as she had only recently begun walking, but to the astonishment of many she was immediately back on her feet and going after her friend again, not bothering to cry or anything despite the scuffs on her clothes due to the hard tumble. And even though Peter ran, the adults saw him slow down each time his friend fell too far behind with a knowing grin.

"Those two are old souls," wondered Grandma Wendy, though no one save Brandon heard. He smirked.

"She's been good for Sam, making her laugh when I can't. I think she's doing it on purpose."

"If she is, then I hope she keeps remembering who she is or was. You might want to talk to her, see if she can tell you much."

"I'll keep it in mind," assented Brandon.

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She'd never seen so many presents. Piled around her, Evelyn knew that whatever she was going to get would likely be a bit babyish or something, but she didn't think too much on it. With her parents encouraging her to open the gifts, Evelyn took one soft package and carefully scrabbled fingers into it. Tearing it, the almost one-year-old found a toy within. The tag, she read, was labeled from Aunt Amelia, but she knew immediately who had been more likely to pick it out. It was a golden cat shaped stuffed animal with beady black eyes and she stared in astonishment. Looking over at Peter, who was busy with his own presents, she hugged the cat to her.

"I think she likes it."

'Of course I do,' she thought.

"What are you going to name it?" Brandon asked, remembering the conversation he'd had with his mother-in-law on Thanksgiving.

"Al," she immediately answered, not hesitating for a second. Hearing the name, Peter looked up and that knowing gleam in his eye told Evelyn that Hughes had come back for a bit. He grinned so familiarly and she grinned back, not interested in putting the cat down in order to open more of the presents. She didn't miss the curious look on the adults' faces or the way they looked at each other in confusion. It wasn't some little cute name that a kid could think up of. "Al…" 'I miss you.'

Opening the rest of her presents, she discovered clothes, bigger than the ones she wore, and toys. The toys weren't all that interesting beyond the cat as they were for babies, but she was shocked when a real kitten appeared in the crackling mess of paper. Touching the calico, she knew it would be a girl. No male cat was ever a calico. And it had two blue eyes of a familiar shade.

Her mother spoke as she gently petted the nuzzling kitten. "How about we name her…"

Before another word was edged out, Evelyn was instantly naming the cat. "Winry."

"Winry?" wondered Amelia. "First Al and then Winry? Your girl's got some odd ideas for names."

The cat just climbed up into the baby's lap, sniffing at the toy Evelyn kept pressed to her side. Brandon, however, chose to speak up. "Hey, princess?" Yellow eyes looked up at her father and blinked at him. "Are Winry and Al friends?" She found herself shaking her head quickly. "They're not?"

"Uh uh," she muttered, wincing slightly as the claws of the kitten dug into tender flesh as she kneaded the child. Pushing the kitten away gently, she frowned at the pinpricks of red on her leg. Immediately Sam was fussing over her, worried about the scratches. Patting her mother's cheek, Evelyn smiled. 'Not that I can talk about it too much just yet,' she thought fondly. 'But they're family.'

Christmas, she thought, wasn't too bad. It was a shame all of her family wasn't there, but…

Evelyn swore again to herself that she'd get home as soon as she was able.

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Author's Note: I first started this fic on a lark and was originally purposeless other than having fun with it. As I went along, the idea grew on me more and more until... Voila. We had the first chapter of "Aureate Bonds". The pregnancy scene was mostly a contrivance between my own sister's pregnancy and what perhaps an aware child might go through within the womb. I sincerely don't think most infants find the process of being carried and born traumatizing. Ed, however, is not average.

Please review. I appreciate feedback.