How long had it been since you felt this? This feeling of love and family? The hustle and bustle of family members around the small kitchen conjuring a feeling of home in your heart. Though the situation then was very different than that of now. Your mother clung to your arm, using her sewing skills to try and repair the damage done to your arm. Opposite to her, your little sister held your hand, running her thumb over your knuckles in an attempt to comfort you. The twins were in the next room, discussing something with your father. You blinked slowly, your whole body seemed numb as your ears ringed. You didn't know if it was the blood loss or seeing your family, but you just seemed... blank. The ringing finally seemed to fade as you heard the scolding being given by your mother.

Mother: Diana, go get me some scissors.

The girl nodded and rushed off.

Mother: My God, (Y/n)! How could you do something so stupid?!

Your mother shook her head as she waited for your sister to return.

(Y/n): I don't know...

Mother: You don't know? You don't know?! Are you kidding me?!

Your sister managed to arrive in time to save you from another severe scolding as your mother cut the string. You wound, though ugly, was now closed. Your mother then rubbed a rag against the wound, letting the antiseptic burn at the dirt and bacteria, before finally wrapping a cloth around it securely. A loud sigh drew your attention as your father trudged into the kitchen. He set the revolver onto the table and took a seat.

Father: Diana, honey, can you give us some time to speak with your brother?

She looked between you, father, and mother before giving a slow reluctant nod. She walked out of the kitchen and upstairs. Your father let out another sigh as he plopped down in a chair across from you next to your mother.

Mother: Louis.

Father: I know.

Your father looked you up and down before speaking with a dry tone.

Father: I-

(Y/n): Funny seeing you with a gun.

Father: Pardon?

(Y/n): You always hated guns. Now my little brother is waving one around.

Father: Well...

He reached over and dragged the weapon across the table. He gripped it and examined it carefully in the light cast by the overhead fixture.

Father: Things aren't so safe anymore my boy. 

Mother: Will you stop it?!

Father: Stop what?

Mother: We just got our son back, the one declared a traitor years ago who just walked up to our doorstep covered in blood and you want to have idle chitchat?!

Your father sighed and slid the weapon back.

Father: She's right. Tell us what happened. 

(Y/n): It's not a pretty story.

Mother: you think we care? We want to know the truth.

It was your turn to let out a sigh as your wound seemed to throb.

(Y/n): While stationed in Ishval, I was promoted to sergeant. You'd think I would be happy, but my lieutenant was a bastard. He mistreated his men and let us do the heavy lifting when it came to warfare.

Father: And he wasn't court marshaled but you were?

(Y/n): Who was going to do it? Nobody gave a shit about us footmen, even as a sergeant my complaints were overlooked as jealousy. 

Your father nodded as your mother kept listening to you, never moving her gaze off you.

(Y/n): One day I took overlooking at the prisoners, oh I'm sorry, targets. I met a young girl, and she begged me to let them go. For once in my entire miserable career as a soldier, I did what I thought was right. I let them out.

Father: Good on you my boy!

Mother: You did the right thing.

(Y/n): But I got caught. I was cornered by my own soldiers and the lieutenant. Of course with my luck that was the day the alchemists arrived.

Your mother's face contorted into one of disgust.

Mother: Alchemists. Playing god with the elements. I've never liked them.

You had to chuckle at how hard your mother just made this. Your father didn't seem to react. He just waited for you to pick up on the story.

(Y/n): I was injured trying to escape.

Father: Was it severe?

(Y/n): I couldn't walk, I was basically cooked alive in my own flesh and I lost my eyes. I-

Mother: You lost your eyes?!

Your mother jumped up and reached over the table gripping your face. She stared into your eyes before tearing up.

Mother: My baby!

You recoiled at her wording as she collapsed backward into your father's waiting arms.

Father: I should have said something sooner. I'm sorry.

Mother: J-Just keep telling the story.

You nodded.

(Y/n): Thanks to my efforts, the Ishvalen's were able to escape and to repay me, they brought me to the village of Youst. It's several miles to the south. There I was cared for by a beautiful woman.

Father: Beautiful? You've only ever called your mother that.

(Y/n): And Diana. She'd get so happy she'd be speechless.

You chuckled to yourself.

Mother: Don't joke about your sister like that.

Father: Oh come on, that just means he's starting to feel better.

(Y/n): She took care of me for two years. Though I later learned that I would have to repay for the care. During that time I was given these eyes by an old man. A pretty famous one too.

Father: Why would he give you eyes?

Mother: How did he even give you eyes?

You looked out the window past them to see a light rain begin to pour.

(Y/n): Because that man was looking for an apprentice.

Mother: For...

(Y/n): That's the hardest part of this story to tell.

Mother: Why? Who was he?

You looked up with a sad smile.

(Y/n): Sebastian Windsor.

The words had barely left your mouth before your father cringed.

Father: That old coot is your master?

Mother: Who is Sebastian Windsor?

Father: He's a... alchemist.

Mother: What?! You let that man train you?! You let him give you eyes?!

(Y/n): It wasn't really by choice-

Mother: You should have rejected him and come home! You left us worried sick, your brothers fought more and your little sister bless her heart, sat by the window every day waiting for you to come home-

(Y/n): I already feel bad enough ok!

You barked out in frustration. You hadn't meant to snap, but everything seemed to have been growing louder and louder. Your mother recoiled in shock.

(Y/n): Look I-

Father: It's been a long night for you, my boy. why don't you go upstairs and get some rest while I talk to your mother?

You simply nodded and got up from the table. The wooden stairs were cold under your feet as you reached the second floor and headed down the hall. Your brother's had their room closed off as well as your sister. Not wanting to cause more trouble, you walked past to your old room. Upon opening the door, you found that it was more of a storage room than a bedroom, but you could live with it. It was still better than a bunk. You brushed some dust and old clothes aside and collapsed into the bed. Sleep found you quickly from exhaustion and you were lulled into sleep by the muffled voices of your mother and father.

A/n: Hey folks if you enjoyed please leave a comment telling me how I did and I'll see you in the next update.