It's been days now, since I got back.

I don't think I've ever thought Risembul had such beautiful skies. Everything back home seems so--

Vibrant. Alive. Not like that world. Al came back from Central two days after I returned. He's whole now. Not stuck in that armour anymore. I think I cried, but I don't know. I just- I'm just glad. But that's not right, glad's not the right word to use. I'm so happy I could turn hundreds of somersaults in the backyard.

Winry might kill me for that though. Especially over automail rehabilitation. They're going to have to replace my ports, reckon I've done a bit of growing. The chest plate is starting to hurt a little from the strain, and the other parts of the ports are chewing on skin. Going to fucking hurt, but I guess there's nothing to be done about that.

I've heard a lot of things about Mustang's unit in Central. Don't know what to do about all that yet, especially Colonel Useless. Demoting himself. Fucking idiot.

But I don't wanna care now. I'm going to get my holiday, going to catch up with Al and everyone else and do everything I ever wanted to do. Fuck yes.

That person said he would be here soon. Edward curled his legs underneath him as he sat on the chair, head resting on the cool wood of the old table.

Half of him believed- wanted desperately to believe that he was real, that a miracle would occur and that he would return to Amestris at last, walk the lush fields of Risembul and sit on the porch of Granny's house as he settled down in peace that would undoubtedly come now. On the other hand, it was every bit as possible that Apollo was not who he claimed he was. It was more possible than him actually being a god at any rate.

Edward had resisted the culture in this world at first, but he was no proof against books, and while in London, he had picked up the trend of reading books from antiquity. Apollo was supposedly the god of the sun (he had rolled his eyes at that), and the god of many others besides. He remembered the twelve gods, and their predecessors and some of the minor deities. It had amused him some.

This was not quite as amusing now.

Heiderich was not in the room as he usually was- Edward had sent him away on an errand, unable to say goodbye properly. It would have hurt too much. So all Edward settled for was to say goodbye at the door, as if they would meet again in but an hour. He was growing fond of Heiderich, but to return home... That was a pull far stronger than any bond he would ever form in London or Germany.

And so he waited for a god he did not believe in.

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