Alicia liked to pretend she had an Invisible Daddy.

All of her friends had invisible friends, so she was able to talk about him easily enough, just calling him her 'friend' rather than her daddy, and then she'd imagine him nodding and smiling and praising her ability to be sneaky - just like her dad! He'd coo, and she'd smile at him hugely.

She'd first imagined him up after the funeral. Her mama had finished crying, and was tucking her into bed, kissing her forehead. "Can I be everything to you?" she'd asked, but Alicia was looking past her, at the man she could almost see standing in the doorway.

Mama left, and Alicia could hear her crying in the other room, but she imagined her daddy coming close, kneeling by her bed, and whispering, "Daddy still has lots of work left. He can't rest just yet. But Mama will feel better if you don't tell her, okay? Let her think daddy's resting."

Alicia nodded, and he kissed her with a little played-up lipsmack and she slept peacefully.

He wasn't around all the time, of course, because he'd have to be busy. But whenever she needed him, she just imagined him and she could almost see him. She'd be playing and need a hug and there her imaginary daddy'd be, sitting behind her and wrapping his arms about her in one of those great huge hugs he was always so good at.

By the time she was eight, most of her friends had given up their imaginary friends. "They weren't real anyway," Louise said scornfully, tugging at a pigtail. "We gotta deal with real people, my momma says."

Alicia agreed, of course, and stopped referring to her daddy in public. But he hung around her more often after that, and she imagined he'd be worried that she'd send HIM away too.

"A daddy never wants to lose their children," her daddy said when she asked him, and kissed her all over her face. "They'll do anything to stay near... even when the kid's growing up, and they know they should let go, now."

She begged him not to, begged him not to let go until tears came and he held her close and she could almost feel his warmth and he promised - he wouldn't. He wouldn't, don't worry.

And he didn't; he stayed nearby. Even when she wasn't thinking about him and deliberately pretending he was there, she could see him. He still was away sometimes, but more often than not he'd be lingering, giving her advice about what she should do when she wasn't sure, or telling her stories about his friends, and if she spent more time away from the other kids, it was worth it.

Her Mama noticed one day and mentioned it, but Alicia couldn't tell her, so she just said she was happier this way.

When she was eleven, Ed came by to visit again. He visited lots, at least three times a year, so it wasn't new, though he looked older and older each time he came by. They shared a birthday, so when she counted up she figured he was twenty-three now which was really, really old. She was almost as tall as him now, but there was a hard and sharpness to his features, and his hair came down to mid-back, and he just looked old, somehow, maybe in his eyes.

"He still hasn't managed to do the thing he's been living for," her daddy told her, and she looked up at him sharply, because he sounded like he was near tears. He shook his head at her, and she imagined him smiling, banishing the tears, giving a large grin. "At least he's found some other ways to be happy, though knowing him, he probably feels guilty over being happy while his brother still hasn't changed."

She nodded at her father - he'd been telling her about these things.

"Alicia," Ed said, and she looked back at him. "Your mother told me that you see things other people don't, and talk to them."

Alicia bit back an immediate response and looked at her shoes. She couldn't tell anyone.

"Your mother's worried about you," Ed said, voice even. "But since you wouldn't tell her, she sent me."

Alicia blinked at him. "You-"

"I prefer to be up front about these sort of things. You may be a kid, but you're not stupid, and you don't need to be talked about as if you're not there."

She imagined her dad telling her to tell him, so she said, "Yeah. I do."

Ed nodded, once. "Do you really feel good, keeping this a secret from your mother?"

That wasn't fair, and Alicia knew it. Stung, she retorted, "You can't say that! I bet you're keeping secrets from your BROTHER!"

"What-"

"Does he even know you're living with Uncle Roy?" she demanded. "Isn't that YOUR big secret right now?"

Ed exhaled, slowly, his fingers twitching at his sides. "No," he said. "My brother knows. But nobody else-"

She stared at her feet again, afraid she'd given things away. "...You can't tell Mama," she said. "...But Daddy told me."

"Hughes did-?" Ed's eyes had gone wide.

Alicia could almost feel her father's hand on her shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. "Well, I think so, anyway." It came out more sullen than she'd have liked.

Ed reached forward, put a cold metal hand on the same shoulder she'd imagined her father touching. "Alicia... your father's dead."

"I know that!"

"Is that who you're seeing?" Ed's voice was quiet, almost weak. "Is that who you talk to?"

Alicia shook. "I-"

Ed's fingers squeezed slightly. "You know there're no such things as ghosts," he said. "You must have guessed from something Roy said or did. There're no such things as ghosts - souls only stay around when alchemy calls them to do so. Your - he's only belief and memory, just what you give him, you imagine him-"

"Shut up!" Alicia screamed. "You don't know anything! Even if he is, is that wrong? Is that bad?" I need a hug, she thought, desperately. Daddy-!

And she imagined him leaning in from behind, wrapping his arms about her, letting his chin rest against her shoulder. She was sure she could feel him that time, or almost feel him.

For a moment, Ed's eyes focused just over her shoulder, and he froze, didn't even breathe.

Then he shuddered and gathered Alicia close in a hug that was weird, all hard muscle and metal in strange places, and shook as he held her.

She realized after a moment that he was crying.

"I wish," he said, his voice thick and husky with tears, "that I could believe like you do. I wish I could."

Poor Ed, she thought, and put a hand on the back of his head as she hugged him. "It's okay," she whispered. "Daddy loves you no matter what you believe."