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Chapter Text

What good is knowledge if you have no way to utilize it? This was the question plaguing a group of seven ever since they'd ended up in the god-forsaken hellhole that was wartime Ishval.

Well... truthfully, they'd ended up in the Ishval of one year before the war. They hadn't had a real timeline, not at that time, but their first instinct had been to get the minors out of the damn country and into Amestris. Of course, a year later, one of said minors was no longer a minor. Edwina had returned, but at what cost? Alexia, Lisa and Jim began working to get everyone else out of the country the moment it was needed. The two girls were working on getting legal identities for all of them, which was easier than expected as soon as the war really started going. Jim was their runner, he went back and forth with messages and later, when Leo found the Rockbells, supplies. Edwina was closing off more and more as the screams and gunshots increased. They became better and better at evasion, but-

sometimes they got caught.

They would not escape the war without scars. Physical or emotional.

Leo looked at his hands, seeing the blood that he had already scrubbed off and feeling sick. But he could not let himself throw up what little of Marcus' cooking he had managed to swallow. He hadn't had the guts to even try to use the knowledge crammed into his head by the gate. Marcus stared at the iron cooking pot he'd transmuted using a drawn circle. He didn't have the courage to even briefly touch his hands together. Lisa had already come to the conclusion that she didn't have that inborn talent for alchemy, even though she too had all the knowledge. Alexia also felt useless, even though she could transmute. It was just that her talent would be no use in a fight. Forgeries, however? No one would be able to tell the difference. At least her artistic talents were useful for something. That something being creating the correct papers for her family to be able to enter Amestris and live there without any scrutiny.

Edwina... Edwina had already killed with the art. The white coat made for desert-conditions was stained with blood. She refused to clean it of them.

No one tried to make her.

Jonas talents lay in electronics, with or without sciency magic on his side, while Jim was in the same boat as Lisa. Both made up for that lack with their natural talents. Not once had Jim been caught crossing the border.

It was a good thing there were no Xingese warriors around, otherwise he would have been caught and killed a long time ago. Still, some soldiers were just that good. At least they were just normal soldiers for now. They knew the other shoe was about to drop. And it would drop hard.

It came from nowhere, that spark of hope that would soon make way for dread. But at the moment when Jim came with the news, all four of them felt as if they'd been struck by lightning.

“Al found herself a man.” the black-haired amateur ninja said as soon as he entered camp, falling gracefully onto a makeshift bench near the fire.

Jonas looked up from his latest attempt at creating a walkie-talkie and raised an eyebrow “Oh?”

The unspoken 'And this is important, how?' was telegraphed loud and clear to everyone.

The 24-year old sent him a rogueish grin “His name is Maes and he's absolutely ridiculous.”

Marcus dropped his knife and turned to look at him with wide eyes. Jonas shot up straight, a shocked look on his face. Leo jerked towards him from his first aid kit, face unreadable. And Edwina? Edwina sat up slowly from where she'd been lying on the ground and turned to face him with a raised eyebrow “Really, now?”

Jim smirked even wider “It took her a few weeks, but they're officially a couple, which means...”

“We have an in.” Leo said, hand on his chin.

The only female of their group present shook her head as she stood up “No, don't you get it? We don't just have an in... we have an opportunity.”

They turned to look at their unofficial leader, surprised and overjoyed to see a flame in her eyes that hadn't been there before. It didn't take long for Marcus to understand what she meant “With this...”

Ed looked him in the eye, nodded, then returned her gaze to the others.

“We can save Hughes.”

Even that ray of hope wasn't enough to stop Leo's breakdown when the Rockbells died. Normally, it wouldn't have been that bad, but...

He'd been right there when it happened.

His glasses usually obscured his eyes from sight, which was how he preferred it, after what the Gate... what Truth had done to them.

They were red.

Ishval red.

He looked like some sort of half-breed.

But his eyes, trained on the brutal sight in front of him, blurred slightly but not enough by the loss of his glasses, were what had saved him, he was sure.

Scar had seen them. He had seen his red, Ishvalan eyes, and he had spared him from physical injuries.

The mental ones...

The mental ones were what woke him up to throw up for the next few months.

The mental ones were what forced him to collect every personal item the Rockbells had had with them, put them in a box, and guard it with his life.

The mental ones were what made him clean the blood off of the family photo in Yuriy's pocket and place it in the inner pocket of his doctor's coat.

The mental ones were what kept him in Ishval until the very end, doing what the Rockbells had been doing.

The mental ones had led him to take a detour when the war ended. Instead of heading to Central, Leo had taken the box with Yuriy and Sarah's things and taken a train to Resembool. He'd been resigned to it ever since the end of the war was announced and he'd assumed he'd be doing it alone.

But Edwina disagreed with that and had come with him.

The red-head looked at the 26-year old beside him, no longer wearing the blood-stained coat she'd had in Ishval. Instead she'd put on black slacks, boots and a grey button-up. Mourning clothes. Same as him. Though he still wore his doctor's coat over it all and, unlike Ed, he'd managed to fumble a tie around his neck, the same colour as his pants.

“You didn't have to come. I know you wanted to see Al the moment the war was over.” he finally managed to say, his voice almost drowned by the sound of the train.

The brunette sighed “Yeah... I did. But-” she shot him a pained smile “I had a year with her and Liz before... everything. I can wait a few more days. Besides...” she trailed off, looking at the box at their feet.

“You shouldn't be alone right now.”

It was a heavy statement. The dual meaning wasn't lost to either of them. They both knew, individually, that meddling would be bad. Especially right now, when Edward and Alphonse had yet to try and perform Human Transmutation.

Logically, they knew that stopping them was ultimately a bad idea. Logically, individually, collectively, they knew that.

But emotions weren't logical.

So, Ed had come with to insure that he didn't try and stop the brothers. And Leo would do the same for Ed. This was why she was the only one to come with. The two of them could keep an eye on each other and stop the other from doing anything.

It had taken months of arguing. But at the end, they all knew that some things just shouldn't be meddled with. Too many things depended on things going the way they had in canon.

But they had Hughes. They had Hughes and... it would have to be enough.

They'd make it be enough.

But first...

they had a little heartbreak to get through.

Chapter Text

They'd had no customers that day. It had been a pretty slow few days in general, so Pinako wasn't expecting the knock on the door. Den was barking up a storm, so it wasn't anyone he was familiar with, such as Edward or Alphonse. Not that those boys would have knocked, they'd have just barged in. Putting her pipe down after she'd emptied it into the ashtray, the old automail mechanic made her way to the door. Opening it gave her no immediate answer to the situation. She recognized neither the red-haired man holding a box, nor the brown-haired young lady standing to the side, looking over the landscape. Their attire caught her eye before the tenseness of the man's shoulders did. The eldest Rockbell had a sinking feeling about their business at her home.

Honestly, she'd rather have a customer right now.

“Yes?” she finally prompted, when the silence stretched just a bit too long.

The red-head jerked, pressing his lips closed, before speaking “The war ended... and- since I had no reason to- I thought I'd-” he broke off, sounding frustrated. The young man breathed in deeply, before trying again, “I couldn't save them.”

The statement hit hard. Harder than Pinako could ever have expected. Harder than when soldiers had come to tell her the news.

Because this young man, this doctor, had cared. Still cared.

That made all the difference.

“I couldn't save them...” the man repeated, tightening his grip on the wooden box “So I saved everything they owned and put it in a box where I could protect what little I still could, before continuing what they'd started.”

Pinako exhaled. Shaking her head sadly. Yes. This man had cared and was suffering because of it. Punishing himself, even. Why else come and face the last kin of two people whose death he felt guilty about, probably having resigned himself for the anger.

Pinako had no anger to spare to a grieving person.

The woman glanced in her direction, obviously waiting for any backlash she'd have to save her companion from. Well, Pinako wouldn't sink that low.

“Come inside.”

They'd migrated to the dinner table. Well, Pinako and the red-haired man had, the woman was standing in the doorway, leaning against it and looking out of the room, probably keeping watch. Perhaps she was there in case Winry came, if she was aware of her granddaughter's existence.

Pinako had poured all of them coffee, but the woman had only grabbed the cup and returned to her place at the door. The doctor was looking into the dark depths in an effort to not look at her.

“What's your name, young man?” the automail mechanic finally asked.

The redhead started, before his lips twitched “Right. Introductions.” he chuckled, taking a deep breath as he ruffled his hair, before straightening up minutely “I'm Leonard Oak. That's Edwina Ericsson.” he nodded towards his companion.

Said companion waved with her mug at the mention of her name, but stayed otherwise put.

Leonard's shoulders dropped as he rubbed the rim of his cup with his thumb “I met Yuriy and Sarah when Ed got shot. I didn't have my bag with me, a stupid decision really, but we were close enough for someone to lead me to them. I owed them 'Wina's life. Seeing their work, I decided to aid them. We were doing well enough, what with Jim helping with supplies... but then...” the ginger rubbed his face, looking worn.

The woman, Edwina, spoke up at last “Leo came back bloodied, that day. Not too strange, given the circumstances, but... the look on his face told us all we needed to know. This time it wasn't a few patients he'd have to bury in his heart.” she sighed, lowering her own cup near her hip “He had to go back for their things, of course, but... keeping the field hospital going got harder with just one doctor."

Pinako's eyes widened behind her glasses. She understood what those words meant. This young man... had continued her son and daughter-in-law's work.

They hadn't died for nothing...

It didn't make the pain go away... but it made it more manageable.

They left before Winry came home, leaving behind the box and three photos. One was the family portrait of Yuriy, Sarah and Winry. The second was a candid shot her son had taken by accident, his hand outstretched and going out of the shot, Leo holding a box of what had to be supplies and perhaps telling him off for touching the camera and Sarah in the background, laughing. The last one held her son and daughter-in-law, Leo, Edwina and three other men, all looking worn but at least somewhat content as they looked into the lens. The box held some items she had no idea where they'd come from and came to the conclusion they had been received during their time in Ishval. It was too bad she couldn't ask about them, with Leo having left no way to contact him. Pinako sighed. Everyone had their own way of dealing with grief, she supposed.

Somehow, the automail mechanic doubted this would be the end.

Chapter Text

Maes was visiting his beautiful, talented, sweet, amazing girlfriend of five years when someone knocked on said girlfriend's apartment's door. And not a normal knock either, no. It was obviously a code of some sort. One that had his dear Alexia bolting for the door from her position of leaning against his side on the couch, causing Maes to groan in dismay even as he sharpened his focus and rose to join her.

Ishval still clung to him, which was why he had yet to spend the night with Alexia since his return.

“Big sis!” his girlfriend called with joy from behind the corner, having thrown open the door already.

“Ale...” another female exhaled, sounding similar to Alexia but different enough that Maes at least wouldn't mix them up.

Rounding the corner he could see a woman wearing dark clothes under a cream coat that had seen better days and a suitcase that looked only slightly better. He couldn't tell much else since she was hugging Alexia tightly and had buried her face in his girlfriend's neck. They had obviously not seen each other for a while.

“You're back, you're back...” the younger brunette sobbed, practically hanging off the other, who was now rubbing her back.

“Yeah,” came the muffled reply “sorry it took so long. Leo needed some closure so I went with.”

Alexia just nodded before letting go and taking a step back. She then turned to smile at Maes “Maes, come meet my sister Edwina, sis, this is Maes, my boyfriend. Jim said he told you guys.”

The 24-year-old stepped forward with a friendly smile that covered his nervousness and wariness “Hello, ms. Ericsson, my name is Maes Hughes. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Edwina smiled, looking tired as she offered her hand, which he took as she spoke “Nice to meet you and welcome to the family. There is no escape.”

“Edwiiiiinaaaa....” the light of his life groaned.

Said woman shot her a wry glance “You know it's true, otherwise Jim wouldn't have even mentioned it.”

The younger huffed at the elder “That still doesn't mean you can just say that!”

“I don't hear a denial~!”

Maes laughed lightly. It seemed he had worried for nothing. He'd been slightly wary of the fact that Alexia had yet to introduce him to any family or even mention it to him, but it seemed he had been mentioned to the family. His parents weren't exactly a factor in his life and from the looks of things, their parents may not be a factor in the siblings' lives either.

“So what did I miss?” the elder brunette asked, tossing her impressively long braid over her shoulder, her coat having been tossed onto the coat rack without a second glance.

Alexia hummed as she put the coffee on “Well, there's this building right at the edge of the slums that is just the right size for a theater.”

Maes wasn't sure what this was supposed to mean, but apparently it meant something to the elder sister, since she stuck her head into the kitchen with an expression of excitement and shock “What? No way. Awesome. How bad is it?”

'Lexia shot her an amused look “As if getting a fixer-upper is so bad, miss Al-che-mist~”

The amusement disappeared at her sister's shiver “Sorry.”

The elder shook her head “It's fine. Well, since all we need is raw materials, does that mean we have any ideas for opening night? Or how to get people to come?”

That was when it dawned on him “I'm sure I could spread the word if you give me details.” he beamed.

The siblings turned to blink at him, before the elder quipped ”Damn, he's good.”

Al smiled at him “Once we have a set date for the opening, I'll be sure to tell you.”

Maes beamed. Hey, if he could support Roy's dreams, he could support Alexia's dreams. Besides, helping her advertise for her theater was a minor endeavor in comparison to getting Roy into the Führer's seat.

Also, he was forcing Roy to come to the theater opening so that he could brag about his girlfriend. Y'know, like friends did. Besides, he was pretty sure Roy liked theater. Two birds with one stone and all that.

Once the coffee was done, Alexia went to drag the suitcase into her bedroom, leaving Maes alone with the elder sister. The woman stared at her cup for a silent moment before sighing.

“Normally, this would be a great moment for the shovel talk-” the soldier gulped, afraid that was what was going to happen “but I'll refrain.” the woman sighed, lifting her cup with two hands but not taking a sip. Another moment of silence passed before she continued “Just... stay alive, that will be enough.”

Maes gripped his own cup tighter, Ishval and all the near misses flashing through his mind, before relaxing “I've been assigned to a desk job, I'm pretty sure I can do that.”

Edwina snorted “There's no such thing as a desk job in the military, Hughes, don't be stupid. Being military puts you at risk whether you want that or not.” she teased, then sighed “Alexia... the blood the two of us share is the only blood we share with anyone right now. The others don't even have that. It's not surprising the seven of us clung to each other when we lost everything else. It's been years since we've all been together and now that we finally have this opportunity I don't think any of us can let it go.”

Maes listened to what she said and didn't say. Mulling it over, he thought he understood.

Little did he know his understanding only scratched the surface.

Alexia wasn't sure how they managed, but not only was the Jörmungandr Theater built and ready for action but they'd managed to invite so many Ishval war veterans, Basque Grand and Alex Louis Armstrong included. In fact, the entire Armstrong clan that was in Central was there.

The theater's main function wasn't entertainment though, oh no, not by a long shot. What no one would know was that they were employing Ishvalan refugees in the kitchen of the restaurant in the same building and as extras in the plays they would be showing. They would also be a sort of soup kitchen and medical station for the ones they couldn't employ. The only reason it was working was that many recognized the five of them that had been in Ishval during the war and many of them owed their lives or the life of someone they knew to Leo if no one else. This was one of the only things they could do without stirring things up.

Speaking of stirring the pot, it had taken an intense debate to decide what they should open their theater with. There'd been some groaning when they realized they'd have to censor what they showed. No The Last Airbender, for example, someone might mistake the Fire Nation for a parallel to Amestris and they couldn't have that.

How they'd ended up with Hamilton wasn't important. But once it had been mentioned and they'd all watched a video Jim had downloaded where the entire soundtrack was animated by different people, and no one wanted to think about why Jim had it downloaded on his laptop, everyone was of the opinion that it was too perfect to pass up. There were so many parallels to be drawn without showing their hand.

Jim had whined about being cast as Hamilton, especially when Alexia had been cast as Eliza. It had been hilarious.

“Why do I have to be the one to cheat on Lex?!” the black-haired non-alchemist exclaimed during their first practice session.

Everyone had laughed so hard at that. Alexia was resigned to forever being the baby of the group, even if she was also their ticket to saving Hughes. And boy hadn't that been a surprise. But it had been all too easy to fall in love with him, even if it had started out as a scheme on her part. She wasn't sure how, but the man had started to fancy her. When it was time for him to leave for Ishval, Alexia was afraid that a long-distance relationship would be their undoing. But every letter that he wrote back was the same, his affection for her didn't wane as she'd feared and now... honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if the man would start looking at rings soon. He was easy enough for her to read by now, just like he was able to read her tells. It was getting more an more difficult to keep things from him, not just because of his impressive deductive reasoning, but also due to the fact that lying to him hurt.

But it wasn't like she could tell him the uncensored truth.

But for now, avoidance and vagueness would have to be enough. The less outright lies that were told, the better.

Perhaps, once the Dwarf In the Flask was taken care of, she could relax and they could be truly happy.

Chapter Text

Roy was going to strangle Hughes with his own tie. Then feed it to him. He knew that getting a ticket to Central's new theater's opening show was too good to be true. Of course the man would take the opportunity to gush about his goddamn girlfriend. And tell Roy how he should really get a girlfriend himself. Urgh. He'd take solace in Hawkeye suffering with him, except her seat was somewhere else while Mustang was stuck beside Hughes. Great. At least he'd be forced to be silent during the show.

Roy let out a sigh of relief when the lights dimmed and the curtain was drawn. He blinked at the sound of music. He hadn't realized it was a musical. A brown haired man with a severe face, clad in knee-high boots, white pants and a purple jacket, was illuminated by a spotlight.

“How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore
and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten
Spot in the Caribbean by providence, impoverished, in squalor
Grow up to be a hero and a scholar?” the man sang in a matter-of-fact tone, gesturing vaguely with his arm.

A blond, Roy squinted, woman in drag, wearing a white uniform, was the next to be illuminated, voice pitched low to sound more masculine as she sang “The ten-dollar Founding Father without a father
Got a lot farther by working a lot harder
By being a lot smarter
By being a self-starter
By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter”

A red haired, bespectacled man, wearing the same kind of white uniform as the woman, was the next to appear “And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted
Away across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up
Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of
The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter”

Roy wasn't ashamed to say he became mesmerized by the characters being introduced and the cast of background dancers, all clad in white. He assumed the main characters were the ones with more elaborate clothes. Then the main character was introduced.

“What's your name, man?”

A black-haired man, he too wearing a white uniform, stood in the center of the stage “Alexander Hamilton
My name is Alexander Hamilton
And there's a million things I haven't done
But just you wait, just you wait...”

A woman, this one wearing a dress rather than drag, appeared on stage and caused Maes to squeal silently. Roy could tell only because he knew the man so well and had to contain an exasperated sigh. This had to be the girlfriend then. Well, he had to admit, she looked pretty. And she had a beautiful voice, too.

“When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt-ridden
Two years later, see Alex and his mother bed-ridden
Half-dead sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick”

“And Alex got better but his mother went quick”

It was amazing how whoever had written the play managed to cram so much information in one song. It painted quite the vibrant picture of misfortune and genius. And it wasn't even finished yet. Maybe this would be more enjoyable than the Flame Alchemist had first anticipated. He also wondered how they'd come up with the different countries that had been in the “background information” in the pamphlet. Though he had laughed at the so called “Too long, didn't read” section of: “British are bad, Americans and French are good, all of Hamilton's enemies became President but he didn't and James Madison became his enemy because Hamilton wrote more essays than him.”

It was a much abridged version, he was sure.

“We fought with him”
“Me? I died for him”
“Me? I trusted him”
“Me? I loved him”
“And me?” a pause, a chuckle “I'm the damn fool that shot him”

That caught everyone's attention, more than the show already did. How clever, leaving them in suspense for who knew how long?

It was almost dizzying how quickly the set was changed by the background dancers, Roy didn't always notice when it was being done, what with the spotlights focusing elsewhere, but since he and Hughes were sitting high up, they could see more than most. It wasn't really surprising the man got such good tickets when his girlfriend was part of the production.

…

Roy was feeling both inspired and personally attacked, which was stupid, because the author of the play could have no way of knowing his innermost thoughts or his ambitions. But still...

“Don't let them know what you're against or what you're for”
“You can't be serious”
“You want to get ahead?”
“Yes”
“Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead”

He would never admit it, but that part shook him more than it had any right to. It wasn't the only moment to affect him, however.

“Geniuses, lower your voices
You keep out of trouble, and you double your choices
I'm with you, but the situation is fraught
You've got to be carefully taught:
If you talk, you're gonna get shot!”

“For shame-“
“For the Revolution!”
“For shame!”
“For the Revolution!”

“Death doesn't discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints,
it takes and it takes and it takes
and we keep living anyway.
We rise and we fall
and we break
and we make our mistakes.
And if there's a reason I'm still alive
when everyone who loves me has died
I'm willing to wait for it.”

“Stay alive ‘til this horror show is past
We’re gonna fly a lot of flags half-mast”

“Strong words from Lee, someone oughta hold him to it”
“I can’t disobey direct orders”
“Then I’ll do it”

Roy remembered vividly the moment when Basque Grand shot Fessler, sorry, when the stray bullet hit Fessler, in Ishval, for some reason.

There was just... so much that spoke to him on such a visceral level that Roy was left feeling vulnerable. Watching Hamilton start to spiral after Laurens' death made him wonder if that would happen to him if he ever had to live with Hughes dying on him.

He didn't want to think about it.

Honestly, he wasn't in a worse state of mind only because of the humor sprinkled in, but when Laurens died again symbolically, since the same woman who'd played Laurens and the woman Hamilton cheated on his wife with also played Philip, Hamilton's son, Roy really wondered how this play could end in anything but a tragedy.

And then-

On stage, Eliza takes Hamilton's hand “It’s quiet uptown”
“Forgiveness. Can you imagine?”

But then.

“Then stand, Alexander
Weehawken. Dawn
Guns. Drawn”
“You’re on”

This... was what had been said at the beginning, wasn't it. That Burr had shot him. What a fool.

On stage, Burr and Hamilton turned around and aimed, a background dancer's fist acting as the bullet fired from the former's gun, slowly, slowly heading towards a rambling Hamilton, an impressive show of a dying man's thoughts that he never got to say, before everything sped up and Hamilton finished aiming.

“...My love, take your time
I’ll see you on the other side
Raise a glass to freedom...”
“He aims his pistol at the sky-!”
“Wait!”

Bang!

“Death doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
History obliterates
In every picture it paints
It paints me and all my mistakes
When Alexander aimed
At the sky
He may have been the first one to die
But I’m the one who paid for it

I survived, but I paid for it

Now I’m the villain in your history
I was too young and blind to see...
I should’ve known
I should’ve known
The world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me
The world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me”

The Flame Alchemist dragged his palm down his face. What an utter fool. In the end, Burr didn't wait for it... and Hamilton threw away his shot.

Fools, the both of them.

But still, the musical somehow managed to end on a rather positive note.

“Let me tell you what I wish I’d known
When I was young and dreamed of glory
You have no control:
Who lives
Who dies
Who tells your story?”
“Every other founding father's story gets told
Every other founding father gets to grow old”
“But when you’re gone, who remembers your name?
Who keeps your flame?
Who tells your story? “

Eliza tells his story. Eliza tells all their stories. It's breathtaking to even think about, how history will see you once you're gone. When the show is over, Roy stands up along with everyone else in the theater to applaud. The actors look surprised by the reaction, but they shouldn't be. This was something no one had seen before. These characters someone had created were so relatable, so utterly human that they had no choice but to love them. Any plays Mustang had seen didn't feel so real. He had no idea how they'd done it, but-

“Hughes, I need to see this again, I don't care what it takes, I need to see this again.”

He needed to see this warning tale about hubris again. Not just because it was just that good, but also...

As a reminder to himself. If he wanted to be Führer, he'd have to make sure he didn't make the same mistakes.

Chapter Text

Maes knew he shouldn't read into it too much, but...

Every time he laid eyes on his dear Alexia's sister he couldn't help but remember some of the things that had been in the play. And a few things the woman had said during their first meeting. Had she somehow slipped her own message into the story? He had no idea who in the group of seven had written the script, and they weren't telling, but the words echoed in his mind sometimes.

Roy had, surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, gone to see the show an additional three times while in Central. Even the Armstrongs hadn't gone that far (and Hughes still laughed at the troupe's disturbed faces when they saw the family twinkling and crying. It would never not be funny).

But the words Angelica had almost screamed at Hamilton didn't stop plaguing his thoughts...

“I know my sister like I know my own mind
You will never find anyone as trusting or as kind
And a million years ago she said to me 'this one's mine'”

“I love my sister more than anything in this life
I will choose her happiness over mine every time
Eliza~
Is the best thing in our lives
So never lose sight of the fact that you have been blessed with the best wife
Congratulations
For the rest of your life
Every sacrifice you make is for my sister
Give her the best life
Congratulations”

Now, he knew that Edwina didn't think him the kind of man that would cheat on his wife- but he had to wonder if she hadn't meant some of those words for him. He'd interacted with her and seen her interact with her sister enough to realize that Ed would sacrifice her happiness for her sister's if she had to.

It also made him question whether he should ask Edwina for her blessing or not. She had blatantly welcomed him into the family when they'd first met, so there was no real need, but...

He wondered.

It wasn't like money was an issue on either side. His pay was decent enough and it wasn't like Alexia wasn't making a healthy amount herself. The theater was positively flourishing and a lot of costs could be cut out completely with keeping things in-house. Repairs didn't cost nearly as much as in other establishments mostly due to the fact that Jörmungandr housed at least three alchemists from what he'd been able to figure out, his future sister-in-law included. He'd been told they would use this to their advantage to have way better special effects than their competitors. Hughes wasn't surprised that was something they'd come up with, even if he found the art freaky. Thankfully none of them could start fires with a snap of their fingers, he was sure Edwina would burn the world to the ground if she was given such firepower.

Maes couldn't say he interacted much with the other five members of the main troupe, but he saw them often enough when he came to show his support during concerts and plays.

Right, had he mentioned they also held concerts? It was baffling how many different genres and songs they had in their arsenal. He wondered when exactly they'd had time to write them all.

Honestly, the Major sighed, his occupation got in the way of his thinking, sometimes. But Alexia never complained, she just poked him on the nose and winked, saying “Mind in the moment, please.”

And he was doing that, now. His mind was in the moment when he'd finally gotten her a ring. It was a simple band, she wouldn't want something unnecessarily expensive anyway, she was practical that way. Now, to ask her. Well, she'd want to tell her friends anyway, sooo...

He took the ring with him when he went to watch one of the rehearsals he was allowed to see, mainly just what they called “band-practice”. He could understand why. If he wanted to see the plays, he'd need to pay.

A reduced price, but he'd need to pay.

He kept his work as separate from his free time as he could. He might always walk around armed, at Edwina's insistence no less, but he wasn't wearing his uniform. It tended to put people in the building on edge.

Jim was the first to spot him. The man had incredible spatial awareness, one Maes was envious of and knew some people who'd kill for it. The ravenette grinned from where he was fiddling with the 'electric guitar', one of the many things Jonas had created “Yo, man!” he called, waving.

This brought him to the attention of everyone else and each member smiled at his approach, hands still in his pockets, hiding the box “You stayin' fer dinner?” Marcus called from the back, where he was reading something. Notes or lyrics maybe? He wasn't sure, but it wasn't that important.

The Intelligence Agent shrugged as he casually made his way towards his girlfriend “That depends.”

Marcus looked up and cocked an eyebrow “On what?”

Hughes cocked a shoulder as he came to a stop and smiled gently but brightly “Hey, best of women,” he started, bringing out his hands and lifting the one with the ring, the lid of the box springing open with little effort as he got down on one knee “will you marry me?”

The gobsmacked expression on Alexia's face was well worth the nerves he was feeling. The others 'ooooh'ing in the background wasn't helping, nor was Edwina's “Damn, he's smooooooth.”

After what felt like an eternity, Alexia teared up and laughed at the same time “Oh you horrible, horrible man, what took you so long?” she hiccuped, extending her left hand with her fingers splayed, an obvious invitation for him to slide it on.

Then all hell broke loose when Edwina gasped “Oh my god, guys! He quoted! He proposed to her with a quote! Yes! Integration complete!”

“Sis!”

Their combined laughter was so loud Hughes was surprised no one checked what was happening back there. Perhaps it was commonplace. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Now he just needed to get Roy to be best man!

In East City, the Flame Alchemist sneezed while doing his late paperwork, sending some of it flying. He immediately blamed Hughes.

Getting married prompted Alexia to insist on house-shopping. Of course, she enlisted the other six to help finding one that suited all of them, because they all knew it was going to be used by all of them even though Alexia and Hughes would be the only ones sleeping there every night. The house would need to have secretive ways to enter and exit and would need to be sheltered enough that spying on the people inside would be difficult. Of course, none of them mentioned this to Hughes, though perhaps the man would notice while living there. Because he didn't refuse when Alexia “found” the house she thought would be good to raise a family in. A two-story house that had a basement and an attic. It was a bit of a fixer-upper so it came cheaper than a house that size normally would, but with a few alchemists and a handyman, aka Jonas, it was a steal. It also meant it was much easier to make it into a ninja house. And that more than once while modifying the house, Edwina walked through while saying “Haaaaaaaax.”

Just another thing only the seven of them understood and could laugh at.

It often formed a barrier between them and the rest of the world they were inhabiting, but what could they do? It was good that they had each other, but sometimes it didn't feel like enough. With the Ishvalans it wasn't as bad, because there was a cultural barrier both parties acknowledged, often enough with an “I don't get it, but ok.”

No judgement. No criticism. Just... fact. They had to work around some religious things, like praying times and holidays and such, but it was a small thing to do. The Ishvalans had to hide enough without the seven of them making things difficult.

The refugees weren't the only thing the theater hid. In the basement was a bunker and under that, a training ground. An obstacle course for when scaling buildings didn't feel safe. With Pride in the shadows, it didn't always feel safe to go outside. All of their apartments were rigged with as much illumination as they could get away with and blackout curtains to keep them safe in their sleep. The paranoia might seem like too much, but... well... they knew what they were dealing with.

God knew they knew what they were dealing with.

And the cost could have been much worse... even if they'd had a little more to lose when they stood in front of their gate.

There was a reason not a single one of them had even thought about trying to find a way home.

Chapter Text

The year turned to the next and Alexia kept supplying the others with information she gathered from her husband. His notes and things he said, including phone-calls from his best friend. It was an invasion of privacy and she knew she was breaking his trust with every word she passed to the others, but she had known it would be difficult.

She loved this man, but it was difficult.

Most days she could pretend nothing was wrong, she'd smile at her neighbors who knew nothing of the world, she took care of the chores that Maes didn't manage to do and she pretended to be part of the community. But they all knew it was fake.

It wasn't as big of a surprise as it could have been, she supposed, when Hughes exclaimed about Mustang finding someone to take the State Alchemist exam. Alexia immediately had the bright idea to tell her darling husband to invite them all over to stay, since it would probably take some preparation to study and all.

She knew it was utter bullshit, but Maes didn't need to know that.

In the end she got what she wanted, even if the Colonel looked slightly uncomfortable during the entire ordeal.

Edward's young face looking at her with some astonishment was enough for her heart to give a painful lurch, but she hid it well. Al was back in Resembool and Mustang was personally escorting the 12-year-old to Central and back to East City alone, so there were only two additions to their dinner table. Personally, she was surprised Hawkeye had let the Flame Alchemist go off without her, but whatever.

Edward was surprised when the guy with glasses had appeared out of nowhere and started to drag the Bastard off somewhere. He'd been forced to follow since the man was his ticket out of Central. He only had enough money with him for the return ticket from East City to Resembool. When the man, Hughes, mentioned food, he was more eager to follow. They stopped in front of a pretty nice looking house that had some traces of transmutation on the walls, which caught the prodigy's eye immediately. Whoever had done it was really good, the result was surprisingly smooth.

Hughes threw open the door with a cheerful “Honey! I'm home!”

A pretty woman with long brown hair in a braid wearing a blue dress appeared in the foyer, a brilliant smile on her face “Welcome home,” she said, pecking him on the lips, before turning towards the Bastard and Ed, by proxy “Colonel, it's nice to see you again and...” her eyes landed on him, blinking.

Yeah, this probably looked weird, in hindsight.

The Bastard Colonel pointed his thumb at him “This is Edward Elric, he took the State Alchemist Exam today.”

Edward remembered his manners now that he actually needed them and bowed “Nice to meet you Mrs. Hughes.”

The woman's smile was only marginally smaller as she nodded back “Call me Alexia. Or any variation of, really.” she then looked somewhat accusingly at the Bastard “Awfully young.”

Dang, he wished he could sound that disapproving in just two words. He was scared stiff when he was forced to take his shoes off, but no one mentioned anything about his automail, even though not moments before the Bastard had basically threatened him not to let anyone know about his background.

Dinner was an experience. He knew he was staring at the glass of milk with death in his gaze, but no matter how rude it was, he refused to drink the crap.

“So, Alexia, when is Hamilton coming back to the theaters?” The Bastard asked, sounding less smarmy than he had ever since he'd first opened his mouth when Ed came to East City.

The woman smiled, a mischievous edge to it “My, my, Colonel, if I didn't know better I'd think you were fishing for information.”

Mustang shrugged, not even slightly apologetic “What can I say? I can't wait for it.”

Mrs. Hughes threw her head back and laughed heartily while her husband sighed “I swear you're obsessed.”

His wife nudged him “Or perhaps he wants to see Angelica~” the woman sang the name in good humor.

The Bastard twitched while Hughes laughed “Perhaps you should just give in and propose.”

Alexia snorted and hacked “Ed? Getting married? Who do you think you're talking about?!” the woman exclaimed.

“... what?” Ed had to ask.

Alexia blinked at him “Oh, sorry. My sister, Edwina. She's... let's just say the day she gets married is the day the world ends.”

Well, that made more sense. He also somehow avoided having to drink the milk. Alexia had taken the untouched glass away and brought him back a glass of water while the Bastard and Hughes were bickering about Hughes showing off pictures of his wife when “Your wife is right there, damnit! I don't need to see pictures!”

It was fuckin' hilarious.

When it was time to turn in, Edward was given some sheets to turn into sleepwear with his Alchemy since he hadn't been prepared for staying the night in Central. The Bastard was forced into some of Hughes' pyjamas and given the couch. It was a nice couch, but Ed felt a little vindictive that he got the bed instead of the Colonel.

“Alexia...”

The young alchemist perked up at the sound of Hughes' voice and got closer to the door to listen. He was a curious person, alright, cut him some slack.

“what's wrong? The way you looked at him...”

A shaky sigh “Roy said he was twelve...” the woman explained, sounding wobbly “and he already has that look in his eyes...”

“Alexia...”

“I was his age when it happened.”

Ed swallowed at the way she spoke and leaned against the door.

“The day when we lost everything...”

“I was twelve years old when I saw Hell.”

The woman sounded wrecked and Ed wondered how she could smile so kindly at him.

He didn't sleep well that night.

And when he got back to Resembool with a shiny new watch and a shiny new name, he burnt their house down.

No turning back now, huh?

Chapter Text

There were three years of unknown in the narrative. They hadn't realized it until recently. Things wouldn't really start to roll until Ed was fifteen. Until then the brothers would supposedly be going around on assignments and chase down clues about the Philosopher's stone.

Alexia had managed something when she'd gotten her husband to drag Edward and Mustang over the day of the Exam, however. She'd told the boy that he was welcome to visit whenever he was in Central. She wasn't sure if the boy took it to heart or not, however.

Mustang rarely stayed the night, but Maes did manage to drag him to dinner after every showing of Hamilton. They'd decided to do at the very least one showing per year, since it was so popular. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it was quite popular with the Ishval Veterans. The good ones, at least.

The Armstrong family quickly became one of their biggest supporters and financial backers, which gave their Theater a status many would kill for. Of course there were attempts at sabotage, of course there were. But with so many Ishvalans seeing the building as sanctuary, it was well guarded from physical abuse and attempts of arson. Though the sprinkler system Jonas had installed also helped in the latter.

The three-year gap, as they were considering it, was to be used mostly to debate on and fine-tune “The Plan”. The moment that “Canon” started they would have to be extra vigilant in their spying and information gathering so that they could execute everything and adjust accordingly if things changed too much by something they had done. Hopefully nothing too bad would happen from their meddling, but they had to be prepared for every possible scenario. Step one of the plan, the one they'd been working on ever since the end of the Ishval war, was integrating themselves into the lives of the “Good guys”.

Hughes had already been fully assimilated, though he knew it not. Mustang had been somewhat ensnared by Alexia, but the others hadn't interacted with him all that much, heck, Marcus and Jonas hadn't even met him officially. Lisa and Riza were friendly acquaintances, which was more than could be said about the rest of Mustang's team. The Jörmungandr group hadn't even laid eyes on them.

Alex Louis Armstrong was on speaking terms with Jonas and Jim, along with Edwina.

Alexia had no idea how her sister could stand the constant half-nudity. Or at least not laugh at it.

And the Elric brothers... well, Alexia had accepted her job as the Lure and did her best to ensnare the two ever since they first graced her with their presence, surprising as it had been. Maes had been thrilled, too.

Of course, Alexia was more than just the Lure, the Siren, the sense of security. She was also the Forger. It was her that had given all of them identities. It was a good thing the only ones she needed to do quickly had been her, Lisa and Edwina's papers. The rest had been in Ishval and thus didn't need them immediately. Next had been Jim, as their Courier. She'd had much longer to polish the existing ones and create the rest. Getting Leo his Doctor's License was... harder, let's say, but thanks to his absence and the lack of a sense of urgency had helped. Much. She even managed to get him a status as a backup for the mourge in Central, which would be needed in the future. Not only for intel, but also...

It was a necessity.

They all had their role to play and it was only the sense of doom that kept them from infighting too much when differences in opinion cropped up. Like the subject of the Tuckers...

Lisa had wanted to save them. Had been adamant about it, even, but...

“And what then!?” Alexia had screamed at the woman, mind already whirling with all the things that could go wrong with changing just that one thing.

Thankfully, Marcus had been thinking along the same lines as her. He was particularly fond of Scar, so he would remember how the man was introduced.

“If Tucker is put in prison early, especially that early, it would mean he won't get killed by Scar in East City when Ed and Al are there.” the cook said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was fighting the urge to call Lisa an idiot, knowing it would only do harm but hating the fact he had to actually explain what he and Alexia had realized ages ago.

Edwina picked up that line of thinking, starting to formulate where it was going “Which would mean Mustang wouldn't know that Scar is in East City... while the Elrics are walking around unprotected and unprepared... oh shit.”

The others were a little slower on the uptake. Leo and Jonas had an inkling, remembering how badly Scar beat the brothers and then suddenly even Jim and Lisa realized what they meant.

'Lexia smiled without humor “And since no one knows Scar is in East City... Mustang does not come with a bunch of soldiers as backup to save them. Ed dies. And it will be because we decided to play god.”

Lisa had been stubborn “You can't guarantee that!”

“We can't guarantee that's not exactly what will happen!” the youngest of the seven yelled right back, wild-eyed “Every change is because of us. Everything we change has a risk of failing because of things we cannot possibly foresee accurately. If something goes differently, if something goes horribly wrong that shouldn't have, then it's OUR FAULT, LISA! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!”

Jim looked uncomfortable as he spoke up “Aren't you putting too much responsibility on us all? We're only human.”

“Then whose responsibility is it?” Leo asked, perhaps a bit too bitterly “If we're not held responsible for our actions, then who is? Yes, we're human. But we hold the world in our hands. We're small, insignificant human beings who can't even save a little girl from grief.”

And it was obvious he was talking about Winry. About Yuriy and Sarah's deaths.

But it was a big question. If they didn't hold themselves responsible for the changes they brought, no one would. And if they weren't held responsible, who was? They had to police themselves and each other, because no one else would.

This world was far too close to realism for them to rely on the plot to forgive them for their meddling.

After that rather explosive and depressing disagreement, they'd all needed some time apart. It was funny how this had also been the day when Edward had decided to take Alexia up on her offer. Maes hadn't disagreed with her on it when she'd first offered, as she knew he wouldn't. The problem would be not letting Maes know about Alphonse's hollow insides... and not letting the Elrics know she knew about said fact.

Ed looked at the darkening sky, knowing it would be cheaper to go to the barracks, but also knowing the food at the mess hall was shit. Looking around, the 13-year-old got a better idea.

“Al, c'mon, I know a place nearby.” the blond said, turning down a familiar road, in his mind's eye seeing Mr. Hughes drag the unwilling Bastard Colonel down the street.

His little brother sighed, some-fucking-how, as he spoke “Brother, I doubt anything's open at this hour anymore. At least, anything that would let us in.”

The elder brother rolled his eyes “Not that kinda place, Al.” he called back, hopping up the stone steps and knocking on the door.

“Brother!” his little brother panicked, obviously assuming he was doing something less than morally acceptable, but he just waved him off.

The door opened to reveal a familiar face. Mrs. Hughes blinked at Alphonse before sliding her eyes to meet Edward's, causing her to beam “Edward! What a nice surprise, come in, come in.” the woman beckoned, shutting the door behind them “Take your shoes o-” she cut off, looking dubiously at Al's feet, before lifting her gaze to the suit of armor's eye-holes “I don't suppose you'll take off the armor if I asked?” she asked, sounding like she knew the answer already.

Al looked contrite “Sorry, ma'am.”

Mrs. Hughes sighed “Alright, just- wipe your feet and I'll find something for Edward to make you slippers. No dragging dirt inside the house.”

Ed smiled sheepishly and said “Sorry, Mrs. Hughes.” even as he took his own boots off.

The woman shot him a tired smile “This is the strangest way of dealing with Agoraphobia that I have ever seen, but if it works, fine.” she sighed as she left the entryway, leaving behind two confused boys.

“Brother, what's Agoraphobia?”

Ed transmuted slippers out of some cloth, rubber bands and discarded cardboard that Alexia scrounged up from her “hobby drawer”, as she'd called it. She then proceeded to pull an apple pie out of the oven. It certainly explained why she was wearing an apron over her black leggings and green sweater. And why there was flour on her face.

She became exasperated once more when Al made no move to eat his share of the pie, but smiled when Ed glared at the glass of milk she'd put in front of him. Though it looked kinda funny, now that he thought about it...

“It's soy.”

The blond looked up and blinked at the woman nursing her own drink of... not milk?

“I can't stand normal milk either, the taste is... weird. Thanks to Jim and his wandering ways, I now have a somewhat steady supply of soy milk. It's made from beans and once you sweeten it it's quite good. If you don't like it I'll give you juice or water instead, ok?”

Ed ended up liking the soy milk. Alexia gave Alphonse a piece of pie and told him to eat it in the guest room if he was so adamant on not eating around other people, before sternly telling Edward to make sure his brother ate.

She knew he couldn't, but she couldn't let them know that.

Once the duo had went to bed, the brunette found a different blond in her living room. Silently, she sat down on the sofa while Lisa sat half inside half outside in the opened window.

A few moments went by in silence, before the blond sighed “'m sorry.”

Alexia sighed, also worn out “I'm sorry too.”

“It's just...” the sniper trailed off.

“Yeah.” Al sighed again.

“I don't like it.”

“No one's asking you to.”

More silence.

“This is what Winny and Leo felt like when they went to Resembool, isn't it?”

“Probably.”

“Damnit. Can't argue with that. If they can do it, I'll have to be able to do it too.”

“I know it hurts, but-”

“Save it. I know I was being childish, no need to baby me.”

Silence.

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“I know. But that doesn't make it better.”

Lisa took the rest of the pie with her. In the morning, Edward and Alphonse left after a fullfilling breakfast and a lunchbox full of food for Al. Of course, Ed ended up eating it, just as he'd eaten Al's share of the pie the night before. Alexia let them think she didn't know exactly where the food was going, but she felt accomplished in giving the two a safe space to hide less in. In her house, Al didn't have to pretend to eat in front of her, she'd just “assume” that he'd eaten while she wasn't looking.

Hopefully, it would help some, to have a safe zone in this messed up country. Even if no one was aware of that little fact. Well, Mustang was aware that the ones at the top were not what the people needed, but it went much deeper than that. And the man wouldn't learn of this until later. Much later.

Chapter Text

Time creeped slowly past, even as it seemed to fly by. It was a strange dichtonomy. During that time, one or several of their core crew left Central in it's entirety. For errands, if anyone asked. Well, if an outsider asked. Their Isvalan employees had been filled in somewhat. They knew the seven of them were against King Bradley, but felt powerless to stop him. They knew that the State Alchemist Program was a two-fold endeavour. Fire-power, yes, obviously, but also a ploy to gather strong alchemists to use as human sacrifices on the day when the Gateway could be opened. They told them the requirement of being a human sacrifice was being able to to alchemy without a drawn circle.

They told them of a 12-year-old that had been able to do it. That had been drafted into the program. That would be sacrificed during the next solar eclipse.

Disliking alchemy or not, the thought of a child being sacrificed like that was not something most of them would condone. And, well, living in the presence of five alchemists and seeing their talents so often had paved the way towards acceptance. The younger generations were easier to handle than the older ones, but those who lived under their roof were the ones who had accepted the facts. Those who didn't were told in simple terms that nothing was forcing them to stay in their vicinity.

They usually left.

It was a late evening when the curveball came. Liz had gone snooping in East Command and had reported that the Fullmetal Alchemist had been given an assignment in Central. The soon-to-be 14-year-old was supposed to investigate a drug ring that was selling some pretty suspicious and potent shit. A few people had already OD'd and had had their insides pretty mangled by it. It reeked of unnatural methods. Their own network also indicated that kids were disappearing for no apparent reason. In the area the drugs were being sold.

So yeah, suspicious. Probably connected too. But the Military hadn't noticed and had thus sent their under-age State Alchemist to the scene. How Investigations hadn't caught on was anyone's guess.

Perhaps if Hughes wasn't so exhausted, Alexia could have gotten through to him with her worries of the two things being linked. Unfortunately, the man hadn't been in a state to listen and always left so early that his wife hadn't been able to catch him in the morning. Mostly because the man was great at sneaking out of bed without waking her. She had never been more frustrated about that ability than she was now.

The seven of them had nothing to go on concerning Edward's assignments during the three-year gap, nor if their presence could have, or already had, caused ripples that could make things go wrong, which was why they were on high-alert.

And it was a good thing they were, too.

Jim had been taking the high-ground, which was why no one saw him when he came across a disturbance. Said disturbance was three thugs plus a kidnapping victim.

A kidnapping victim with gold hair and a very, very familiar red coat. Without letting them get too far, the non-alchemist checked the surroundings. No sign of a walking armour anywhere, so it was safe to assume that this wasn't according to any plan the two might have cooked up. The swordsman dug out his locket from under his shirt as he followed the kidnapper-thugs towards the warehouse-district. Because they couldn't be any more cliché. The locket vibrated, telling him that someone was coming to him as backup. The lockets were something Jonas had made so that they would always be able to call for help. The current ones were smaller and less clunky than the first versions, but still pretty big, just barely fitting in the palm of their hand. They contained a panic button and a homing-beacon, plus a not-so-panic-button. At the moment, everyone had been instructed to press both buttons if they ran into Edward needing help.

And by needing help, they meant the kid being in a situation it wasn't likely he could get himself out of. Because as good as the kid may be, they couldn't risk him dying or becoming crippled in such a way that he'd have to quit the military.

It was cruel, and it was wrong... but the fucking story hinged on the domino-effect. One wrong move and some pieces might not fall as they should.

Events might not be identical, couldn't be identical, what with the changes already made, subtle and obvious, but they had to fit in well enough that there wouldn't be any large inconsistencies.

Following got harder when the thugs entered what seemed like an old research facility, a tiny one compared to the others but still, but Jim managed to slip in unnoticed, never more grateful for his frequent trips to Xing. He may not be even close to the best ninja when it came to the Asian-esque country, but he was way above these weak rookies. He was on a completely different level and that was the way he liked it.

Besides, the only reason he was able to learn all their techniques was due to the fact that they existed in this world, thus it was possible for him to do such impossible manoeuvres as Ling's bodyguards could.

It came especially handy now.

There were plenty of hand- and footholds in the abandoned building. Parts of the walls and ceiling were falling off and others were sturdy enough to not even creak while supporting his weight. Jim crawled after the kidnappers and had to hold himself back when they strapped the kid to a ratty dentist's chair. With both arms strapped by belts to the armrests and his legs strapped to the elongated seat, there's no way for the kid to escape himself, especially if this was going where he thinks it's going.

Edward woke up, of course he did, but his temple's bleeding so he's not in the best condition anyways, so there's no way for him to dodge the red powder the drug-dealers blow in his face.

A guinnea-pig. Lab rat. Test subject. That's what all the other disappeared kids were probably for, too. Jim wasn't the only one who saw the corpse being carted out, which had also been another distraction for the now drugged kid.

Only problem... Edward didn't have as much blood as the other test-subjects had had, and if Leo's theories were correct, transmuting while under the influence would be a bad idea even without the danger of OD'ing.

Oh great, they were also injecting the kid with it- now he definitely needed to get he kid to Leo's clinic.

Kid better hold on to life while he got him out of here.

Edward felt like his whole body was crackling with electricity. It was disconcerting due to the fact that his body was also so lethargic that he could barely even twitch. His head was swimming and he thought he was hallucinating when he felt the restraints fall away and someone picked him up.

He jolted, mostly mentally when he realized he was being held to someone's front, his head on their shoulder. He doubted it was one of the people that had dosed him, if only because of the pain in his stomach from where he had to have been slung over a shoulder after he'd been knocked out. The idiots probably didn't know who he was and he was gonna strangle Mustang for not telling him that the drug dealers were kidnapping people to be their test subjects. If he survived, because he was pretty sure he didn't have enough blood to work through the drugs that he'd been forced to consume.

He must have blacked out for an unknown amount of time because suddenly he was lying on top of whoever had been carrying him, at least he assumed it was the same person, the body underneath him tense and slightly trembling. There were footsteps under them, which didn't really make sense to his muddled mind. Opening his eyes told him that they were in a ventilation shaft. A big one. So the building was probably an old lab or something. Those places needed good ventilation.

The guy holding him was braced against the walls of said vent. The guy was holding them up with only his own strength. Explained the tenseness. And trembling. His flesh arm twitched as it hung down and he wondered if he could lift it enough to try and create a platform for the guy to lay on, instead of being a completely passive participant in the escape. He did wonder why he was being rescued by someone he'd never met.

The youngest State Alchemist in history furrowed his brows when he thought he heard an alchemical reaction, but was about to dismiss it as the drugs talking when nothing happened afterwards. Until the vent became just a little bit lighter.

“Öljysiksä vitun saranat?” the man under him said, sounding incredulous. It would have helped if Ed had any idea what he'd said and he wondered if his brain had stopped working if he couldn't even understand speech. The man then continued “You're so fucking extra, Marcus.” great, so his brain was being selective about comprehending language now, huh?

Fucking drugs, why did people use 'em if you couldn't even think?

No one answered, but there was another bout of transmutation and the man holding him brought his arm up around the blond's back and went from horizontal to vertical.

Ladder. Whoever the guy was talking to had transmuted a ladder. And probably also a hatch on the roof. Said guy was probably the one dragging him up by his armpits now and oh look at all the pretty lights~

“We gotta get 'im to the clinic like, yest'rday.”

“It's that way.”

Edward lost consciousness to the feeling of the person holding him running and jumping over rooftops.

Chapter Text

Madame Christmas had a new regular. The woman had been coming almost every night for two weeks now. Mrs. Hughes. The Madame knew her Roy-boy's friend had gotten married and according to her foster son the man was a doting husband who gushed over his wife whenever he got the chance, however...

There seemed to be trouble in paradise. No woman happy with her marriage went out on weekdays to drink. The woman never drunk herself into a stupor, but it was obvious she wasn't feeling well. The door opened to let in a red-haired man wearing a doctor's coat. He glanced around and made a beeline for the only patron as soon as he laid eyes on her.

“Geez,'Lex, when you didn't answer your phone I got worried. I thought 'Win was the drinker out of you two.”

The brunette looked up from her shot of vodka, not the least impressed by the appearance of a doctor while she was on a bender, Chris didn't think. Then again, these two knew each other, obviously. Perhaps it was the friendship that made her not want the man there.

She hoped she wasn't about to witness infidelity.

The ginger dug the inside of his coat as he sat down on the bar stool beside her “Anyway, here,” he said, passing the woman a pill bottle “you're almost out my now, right?”

Alexia Hughes smiled sardonically “Not really,” she said, voice raspy from her drinks as she accepted the medication and turned back to her shot of vodka “Maes hasn't been home lately...” she continued, knocking it back and slamming the glass back down “so there's been no need for contraceptives.”

The doctor frowned “So he doesn't know, then? About the disappearing kids?”

The bar owner's gaze and ears sharpened even as she poured the woman another drink when she called for it.

The young woman sighed “The only reason I know he's been in the house is the laundry basket. He is so focused on the drug cartel that, ironically, he won't listen to me about said drug cartel operating in the same area minors are disappearing from. God, when I told him not to bring his work to the dinner table this isn't what I meant!” the woman ended in a wail.

The doctor looked scared. The man had probably never seen the woman drunk, if his previous comment was anything to go by.

The distraught and somewhat tipsy woman turned to her friend “He thinks I'm an idiot, Leo! Where did I go wrong?!” the woman lamented “Is it because I won't give him a child? Is that it? I love him so much why doesn't he love me?”

That certainly got a reaction “Hey, hey,” the man soothed, hugging the shorter woman “Hughes loves you, he does, he does, shhh....” he patted her back until she stopped sobbing. Alexia sat up and sniffed, turning back to her shot and staring at it as if it held all the answers “Have you told him why you don't want kids right now?” Leo asked gently, treading carefully.

The brunette shook her head “No. How can I possibly tell him without sounding like a paranoid conspiracy theorist?”

Ok, that sounded like something she needed to know.

The doctor sighed “Look, Hughes is smart, I'm sure he has some inclination of it already... it's not really that out there. You're not the only one who dislikes the Führer.”

What.

Alexia chuckled “Yeah well, I'm pretty sure it's still gonna sound weird if I tell him I fear having a child in the country King Bradley controls. How am I supposed to tell him I will give him a child as soon as we have a new Führer? How, Leo, tell me.”

The Madame wasn't sure what to do with this information. Roy-boy would be happy to have more people in his corner, she was certain... But what did this woman know for her to fear the Head of State enough to fear having a child under his rule?

Leo sighed “You tell him what you told me the first time you needed my help.”

The two friends caught each other's eyes and choroused “Something that doesn't exist cannot be used against me.”

… that was morbid.

The brunette lifted her shot “You wanna join me?”

The ginger shook his head “I can't drink. I've got a blond kid in the ICU.”

The brunette froze at that, practically dropping the hand holding the shot with an audible clack “Tell me he didn't.”

Her friend sighed “Jim saw some guys hauling a kid to places unknown, so he followed. Especially since the kid was blond and had a long, red coat.”

Wait a second.

Mrs. Hughes looked more horrorstruck at the red-head's elaboration “Tell me Colonel Roy Mustang did not knowingly send his underage subordinate to Central City when kids are disappearing from the streets.”

Dr. Leo scratched his head “I mean, I hope not. Question is, who do we tell? And how? Man, this would be hard evidence for the fact that the drugs and the disappearing kids are linked, since he was forcibly dosed with 'Euphoria'...”

Alexia sat still for a moment, before idly asking “You wouldn't happen to have some fast-acting sedatives, would you?”

Leo shot her a glance “What do you need it for.”

What friendship, the Madame thought wryly. The man might have worded it as a question, but the tone was a statement.

“Well, with Maes being so swamped with work, it wouldn't be out there that he would collapse from exhaustion.”

Silence.

“Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Might as well. Jonas can carry him. I still have his file so I know how much to give him without doing any damage. But you do realize you need to sort this out with him afterwards?”

“Yeah, yeah.” the brunette agreed, knocking back her last drink and slapping money on the counter, hollering “Keep the change!” as she strode out, only somewhat wobbly.

The doctor sighed and followed after her, giving the Madame a polite nod and nabbing Alexia's forgotten coat as he went.

Chris Mustang took a long drag from her cigarette. Now, how much to tell Roy?

Outside the establishment, the actually pretty sober married woman and the bespectacled doctor bumped fists as the male handed over the coat before splitting off. They had a Lieutenant Colonel to knock out and smuggle to a small clinic.

“How much do you know about your friend's spouse?”

“What are you talking about, Madame?”

“That's no mere civilian your friend married, Roy-boy.”

Chapter Text

Oakes Clinic.

That was the sight that greeted Maes when he woke up. It didn't help with the confusion at all.

What the fuck?

Glancing around, the Investigations Officer couldn't spot anything too out of the ordinary, except maybe the curtain of the patient bed beside him being drawn. He remembered coming to the clinic once, for a basic physical. Just in case he'd have to be treated without a paper trail that Central Hospital would generate. He remembered asking about the text on the ceiling over each bed.

“I've found it causes less confusion in patients who've been brought in unconscious. Usually you freak out when waking up in an unfamiliar place. Well, this way everyone knows exactly where they've woken up.”

That still didn't explain why he was here, though...

He could remember getting home, and-

Nothing.

“Eight hours. Man, guess you were exhausted.” a voice quipped from the side.

Turning his head, Maes came face-to-face with a familiar red-head “Leo, what...?” he groaned, sitting up. Looking down, he could see he was still wearing his uniform.

Suspicious...

The doctor tapped his clipboard audibly, a disapproving frown on his face “Well, I had an enlightening conversation with your wife last night about the fact that you seem to think she's an idiot.” the man drawled, eyebrow climbing up his face steadily.

What?

The ravenette shot a sharp glance to his wife's friend “I do not-” he denied, only for the man to cut him off.

“Then why did you not take her seriously when she tried to tell you about the strange coincidence of kids disappearing in the same area that 'Euphoria' dealers operate in?”

He hadn't- had he-

Shit, when was the last time he'd actually spoken to Alexia?

Shit, shit, shit.

“Shit.” the military man sighed, palming his face.

“Yeah. Well, obviously it's something you both need to talk about. But that's not why you're here.” the ginger said, waling over to the privacy curtain and yanking it to the side.

Maes stared in horror at the patient in the other bed. He recognized the figure, god did he recognize him.

Edward looked so small in a hospital pyjamas obviously meant for adults, an IV in his flesh arm and an oxygen mask on his face, which was also almost too big to be effective.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

If what Leo had just told him was anything to go on-

He knew Roy had sent Edward to investigate the 'Euphoria' drug cartel. But if said cartel was abducting kids-

They'd gotten Edward-

But how-

“Jim found the place they were taking the kids. They use them as guinea pigs for their drugs. Only problem, they dosed the kid with what a normal kid his size can take... but Edward has less blood than a kid his size, what with two limbs missing. Thankfully, he managed to get the kid out of there and into my care. I've already treated people who've OD'd on the stuff and I've managed to study 'Euphoria' enough to develop an antidote.”

The Lieutenant Colonel buried his face in his hand “All this time... we haven't managed to get anything, yet you-” he didn't know how to articulate exactly how frustrating it was that there was so much information right there for grabs and he hadn't been able to find it himself.

Leo could tell without him saying it, anyway “Not everyone will talk to the Military, you should know that.” he said in a dry voice “Which is why you should ask for help, Hughes. Just because Lex banned work from the dinner table doesn't mean you can't confide in her. You're in Investigations, you should know better than to take her outer shell at face value.”

Maes paused at that. He was right. Of course he was. He was friend's with Roy, he really should know better. He'd let himself fall for the illusion of a normal housewife his darling Alexia put on for the world to see. He did know better. He knew she had nightmares that made her wake up in a sweat. He knew she sometimes got a distant look in her eyes that spoke of pain. He new she was sneaky and intelligent, they often sparred verbally. She always seemed to know the word on the street and it had helped his work more than once. He knew she could speak in code just as well as Roy could. He knew she wanted kids just as much as he did, but...

“We're still young, love, there's no rush...”

But she was afraid of having them, for some reason.

She didn't speak of her own Hell. Had only alluded to it. He should perhaps have prodded her more, but-

But it wasn't like he spoke to her of Ishval, either...

They really were a pair, weren't they?

He sighed heavily before raising his head and looking Leo in the eye “Well, what do you got?”

The ginger smirked “I'm so glad you asked...”

Chapter Text

Edward was familiar with the smell of a hospital. It had been burned into his mind by the automail surgery and he'd been in the hospital a few times since he got his State Alchemist Certificate. He couldn't recall arriving, though. Then he remembered what had happened. Or, at least he remembered it vaguely.

He'd been kidnapped and dosed with the new drug that as circling around Central. From what he could tell from the casefile, helpfully provided by Mustang, the smug bastard, and compiled by the Investigation Division Hughes was part of, he figured that some sort of alchemical catalyst had been added to the substance. Which meant that any Alchemist high on the stuff messed up their insides while transmuting because they didn't take the catalyst into account, thus causing a rebound.

...something he realized he hadn't remembered while dosed, so it was a good thing he hadn't been able to so much as twitch.

Oh, and apparently they were kidnapping people to test their drugs on. He was strangling the Bastard Colonel for leaving that out of the briefing. Yes, he'd actually listened to the briefing, but he'd never let the Bastard know that.

When the blond finally opened his eyes, he wasn't assaulted by bright lights. That was a novelty. He then noticed there was text on the ceiling above his bed.

Oakes Clinic

… that was a new way of doing things.

Frikkin' genius, too. No added confusion for anyone waking up there, at least. All hospitals should do this.

That was about the time he realized there was a mask over his face, gently blowing stale air in his face. Glancing to the side showed him the machine the air was flowing from and caused him to spot the IV he was hooked to. He didn't feel nearly as bad as he thought he should, all things considered.

“Oh, you're awake. Good, that's real good. You're a fighter, aren't 'cha?” a voice came from the side, along with the sound of a curtain being drawn.

Huh, there was a privacy curtain around his bed. It had been blocking the lights. There was an orange-haired man with glasses standing where the curtain was drawn back. He looked like a doctor.

“Now, I'm not sure if the 'Euphoria' is completely out of your system yet, so just to be sure don't use alchemy for at least another 24 hours, kay?”

Edward's brain mulled that statement over for a second, realizing that the doctor must know the alchemical disturbance the drug caused. Either he was an alchemist, he was just that good, or he knew someone who'd told him.

The doctor drew the curtain further to let more light in his space before rolling up his sleeves and snapping on a pair of rubber cloves with transmutation circles printed on the back “Alright, let's see what we're dealing with...”

...didn't the man just forbid him from doing alchemy? The blond squinted at the man, looking extremely dubious.

Thankfully the guy noticed before he proceeded with whatever it was he was gonna do “Don't worry, it's just a basic body-scanning array- well, I say basic, but I think I'm the first to have thought of it... anyway, it doesn't actually change the shape of anything and just sends a signal through the body and then translates that knowledge into my brain using the electric signals and my knowledge of the human body. Since I'm not going past 'comprehension', there's no chance of a rebound. I am also very well-versed in medical alchemy, which requires knowing how the energy flows and being able to guide and control said flow. And also how the human body is supposed to work and look like. Long story short, I know what I'm doing.” the man deadpanned at the end of his short lecture.

Edward appreciated not being treated like a kid. He understood all of that, even though he'd never even thought about breaking down the comprehension-deconstruction-reconstruction chain of alchemy.

The man laid his hands on the teen's chest when there was no further protesting. The circles lit up faintly and the blond felt a wave of something pass through every cell of his body. He fought the urge to shiver and waited for the doctor to be done.

The man withdrew his hands after a minute, smiling “Alright, you no longer have heavy metal poisoning and your lungs are doing a lot better, there are still some foreign substances in your system and while I doubt using alchemy would cause a rebound at this stage, your system is still suffering from being injected with an alchemical catalyst, so I'd put it off unless you absolutely have to.”

This guy was really good at alchemy and his job...

The mask was removed since his lungs were fine, which let Ed breathe some less-stale air. The place still smelled like a hospital, but that couldn't be helped.

Still... “What happened?” the 13-year-old rasped.

The man grabbed the end of the bed and levered it so that he was sitting up in stead of lying down and handed him a glass of water with an array etched to the bottom. One alchemic reaction later the glass was full of ice-chips. He was then handed a spoon to accompany it.

“Jim, a friend of mine, saw the thugs that took you, so he followed them after calling reinforcements. He and Marcus burst in here in a mild panic. I removed what mercury I could and started the process of flushing your system of the drugs. Next we kidnapped Hughes-”

Wait what?

“-so he knows what happened and they're probably doing something about the drug ring. I have detailed notes on the composition of 'Euphoria', so you can take that back with you to East City, job done and all that.” the doctor said nonchalantly “Oh, and don't worry about Mustang being a bastard about it, Lex will take care of it once she's sober.”

Lex? Did he mean-?

“Call me Alexia. Or any variation of, really.”

“You know Mrs. Hughes?” the blond asked, sounding less like gravel shifting thanks to the ice chips.

The man beamed “Oh yeah, we've known each other for the last 13 years or so. Man, time sure does fly, huh?”

The way he said it made him sound old, but he couldn't be much older than Mustang, could he?

Back in East Command, Mustang sneezed.

“Do you mind if I put on some music? You're the only patient here at the moment and I don't like silence much.”

The blond alchemist shrugged and watched as the red-head turned on the gramophone. There was already a disc on it, the center having the design of a green snake going in the shape of an 8. He was pretty sure he'd seen the picture somewhere, then realized that it was that one Theater's symbol. The unpronouncable one. People were calling it “Jorm Theater” if he remembered correctly.

When the music started, Edward leaned further into his pillow, wondering how his assignment had turned into bed-rest so quickly.

Maes felt a tinge of dread as he opened the front door to his house again, and not just due to the fact he'd been knocked unconscious the last time. When nothing happened as he closed it behind him, some tension left him. Some, not all. Not even most of it. There was guitar music traveling down the hall. That was either good or bad. Depended entirely on the lyrics, really. He'd become quite adept at deciphering his wife's mood according to what she was singing. Of course, songs didn't always reflect her mood, but he'd become good at telling non-mood induced songs apart too.

“...down slowly...”

Well, that wasn't good. He didn't recognize the song at all, so he didn't have any time to really formulate a plan in how to approach Alexia.

“Cold skin, drag my feet on the tile
As I'm walking down the corridor”

Maes mirrored the lyrics as he walked down the hall towards the living room, trying to catch a glimpse of- oh boy. Bad. Really bad. She wasn't on the sofa. She was lying on her back on the plush carpet. Shit. Bad. Very bad indicator of mood.

“And I know we haven't talked in a while
So I'm looking for an open door”

Oh. Oh dear. Oh dear. She was really mirroring now, wasn't she? It was scary, the way the entire group had a talent for it, but Alexia seemed to live for it. The fact that she was mirroring their relationship... yeah, they had some fixing to do.

“Don't cut me down, throw me out, leave me here to waste
I once was a man with dignity and grace
Now I'm slipping through the cracks of your cold embrace
So please, please...”

Was... was this how he'd made her feel? Maes swallowed. Oh. Yeah, that-

That would explain Alexia turning to alcohol... he already knew of her sister's tendency to drink, so he really should have realized...

“Could you find a way to let me down slowly?
A little sympathy, I hope you can show me
If you wanna go, then I'll be so lonely
If you're leaving, baby let me down slowly
Let me down, down
Let me down, down
Let me down, let me down
Down, let me down, down
Let me down
If you wanna go, then I'll be so lonely
If you're leaving, baby let me down slowly”

Alexia stopped abruptly when Maes finally made his way over to her and laid his hand on the neck of the guitar. They stared at each other for a moment, Alexia sprawled on the rug and Maes kneeling by her head, trying to avoid her hair.

Finally, the Investigations Officer broke the silence “I'm home.” he said gently, knowing this was going to be a difficult discussion.

Alexia must've realized his mood, since her expression softened into a quiet acceptance “Welcome back.” she whispered, letting go of the guitar and letting him take it with him as he stood up and off her hair.

He went to put the instrument away, turning back to find Alexia at the dining table. It seemed they weren't at couch-stage yet.

The table was for eating and for serious business. The kitchen was for quiet discussion. The couch was for comfort while talking.

He could see why Alexia would want to speak without contact, with a table in between them. It forced both of them to hear the other out.

He truly had married a woman who thought much like him. He had forgotten. That underneath her soft outside laid a sharp mind.

He sat down with a sigh and they once again lapsed into a heavy silence. And yet again, Maes broke it first “I realized I haven't actually spoken to you in just about a week and a half... And I've been running myself ragged enough that I can't actually remember if you tried to talk to me about my case or not. In my bid to not burden you with this drug ring I neglected to realize that you wanted to, and could, help me. I fell into the trap you laid out for strangers and... I'm sorry. I should have known better.”

The sound of the clock ticking was loud in the space between them, but Maes waited patiently for Alexia to figure out exactly how to word things. She did that often, he'd found. It was something he could understand, wanting to make sure she wasn't misunderstood.

Taking a deep breath, the brunette finally spoke “I suppose I should have seen it coming... I became too comfortable knowing that you loved me that I forgot to let my walls down. At some point, I began to think you loved the facade I put on whenever I left the house. I'm not sure when, but at some point... I forgot to take the mask off. I isolated myself from you and I feel so stupid to have done that. When I told you to not bring your work to the dinner table I meant for it to be a safe space for you to not stress about it for just a moment... but you took that and started to shield me from all your work. And that's when I realized you saw me as weak.”

Maes winced, but didn't refute her. That was what had happened, after all.

The woman chuckled darkly “It was a shock. But it was a shock I needed to realize that I had stopped trusting you... just as you had stopped trusting me. I knew we had to fix it, but you were already spiraling and wouldn't listen to me. I didn't know what to do... so I started going out every night to drink the pain away. It's not like you were there to notice...”

Ouch. Ok, that was harsh... even if it was true.

“Leo found me last night, already drunk off my ass. If things had been normal, I would have gone to him for my contraceptives by now, since they would have been used up already, but...” she shrugged.

Maes understood what she meant. She hadn't needed those pills in a while now and she always took them religiously. They hadn't really talked about why she was so adamant against having children right now, but he hadn't pushed her either. It was her body, after all.

He sighed as he realized that was probably where the discussion had happened and that the plan had come from his inebriated wife's brain. She could be really scary, he realized now. “I'm sorry it got so bad that you were forced to conspire against me.”

The brunette smiled sadly “I'm sorry too. But I'm not sorry I did it.”

Maes snorted. Of course she wasn't. Because lives were and had been on the line. And his pigheaded self hadn't asked for help from the people most likely to know things because he had been thinking inside the box.

He wondered if he could ask for their, all of their, support on the matter of Roy's ambition...

Alexia looked away from him, twisting her fingers nervously “I... know you've been wondering... and I know that normally people don't wait quite this long after marrying to try for a baby and we both know it's not an issue about fertility... if... if you ask, then I'll explain...”

Ah. The pandora's box had been opened. This had been an issue ever since the subject had come up. He'd assumed it had been about her career, since she'd only just started at that first instance, but...

He was curious. He was worried. He wanted to know.

But not while there was an obstacle between them.

The bespectacled man stood up and made his way over to the other side of the table, taking the seat next to hers and grabbing her hands in his, causing her to turn and face him, now on the same side of the table “Tell me.”

The tension in her shoulders lessened and she exhaled deeply before speaking “You must have realized it by now. That the leadership of this country is... not what is needed. In Ishaval, if nothing else, you must have at least thought about it...”

“What it would be like if someone else was leading us.”

Maes' eyes widened. He'd had no idea his wife was anti-Bradley. He also hadn't expected her reason to not have children had something to do with the sentiment.

The 25-year-old smiled, not meeting his eyes “Never did I feel safer in Amestris than when Bradley wasn't in the country. That really should tell you something.”

It really did.

Alexia straightened and looked him in the eye “I know you feel the same, on some level. But being in the military means if there's another war like Ishval... I don't want to tell our child why daddy's not coming home.”

Ouch... fair enough, but-

“And being in the military while harboring negative feelings towards said military's leader... something that doesn't exist cannot be used against you.”

Maes was stunned to silence. He wasn't sure what to make of the statement. But no matter how much he wanted to call it paranoia it didn't change the fact that she was right.

Backing Roy in his bid for Führership meant going against Bradley. Bradley, who had the power to eliminate opponents if he so chose. If it ever came down to it, Alexia could disappear. Rather easily too, really, but a child-

How do you convince a child that they can't go outside? That they have to change their name? That they can't trust their parent's co-workers?

Damnit, Alexia was right and Maes absolutely hated it.

Either not realizing or not acknowledging his inner turmoil, his wife pressed on “I want a child with you, god knows I do, but not now. Not in the near future. Not while Bradley is in power. The moment someone better takes his post, I will gladly give you exactly what you want. That I can guarantee.”

Well, that's one incentive towards getting Roy that position, he supposed.

Chapter Text

The troupe were pretty happy with the way things had gone. Alexia had opened most of herself to Maes, which was good and bad, since there were still some things they couldn't tell the man, but then again, he couldn't complain about her keeping secrets from him, since he had never really talked about Ishval with her. So long as he didn't talk about it, he couldn't ask her to share what he assumed was her equivalent of Ishval.

He wasn't wrong about the assessment, but he wasn't right either.

One of Madame Christmas' women had come to Leo's clinic for a checkup, and they suspected this would be the trend in the future too. Thus, Leo had taken on the role of gossipy doctor. He didn't mind passing on info to the ladies and this time had been lucky since Jim had popped in trough one of the windows while he was giving the woman, Helen, advice on how to treat her cold. She'd probably been sent due to the fact that she had said cold.

Edward had still been in the clinic at that point too, though the curtain had been drawn until Jim had popped in.

“Hey kid! You're looking better!” the swordsman exclaimed, throwing the curtain open and causing all of them to jump at his sudden appearance.

“Where the fuck did you come from?!” Leo had screeched, mostly for show, because he knew exactly where he'd entered from.

“You left your window unlocked.” was the nonchalant explanation, thumb jerked in the direction of his office.

“Use the door!”

“You weren't complaining when we brought the kid in.”

“Edward was in critical condition and the front door is there,” Leo ranted, pointing to the opposite end of the building “as opposed to there,” he then lifted the other arm to point in the direction of his office, in the exact opposite direction of the front door “where you were coming from, so using the window was faster!”

“I don't see why you're complaining.”

“Stop contaminating my clinic!”

It had been mostly for show, but it had gotten the point across. Jim was a chaotic good person who could get into places normal people couldn't and Leo was a mother-hen and a gossip who would do anything for his friends.

Leo turned to Helen again with a smile “Sorry about that, Miss.”

The woman smiled too, discreetly eyeing Edward who looked much better “You get kids often?”

Leo shrugged “I treat whoever comes and if there's no paper-trail after? Well, fuck the military.”

Jim snorted from his seat by Edward “You do realize Hughes is military, right?”

Leo didn't even turn around “Yes but Alexia married him and in Alexia we trust.”

“Ok, point.”

“Also, no one can prove he wasn't here because he collapsed from exhaustion and my clinic is closer than Central Hospital. And if he just happened to arrest the Euphoria drug cartel afterwards, well then he's just that good at his job.”

“You do realize that the way you said that tells everyone that that's not what happened, right?”

“No one can prove anything!”

Edward chose that moment to pipe up “Wait, did you guys drug Hughes?” he asked, squinting at the two of them.

The pause before they both said “No!” told the other two everything they needed to know.

So, if Madame Christmas' girls showed up every once in a while for Leo to gossip with and to witness the theater troupe's shenanigans, then no one commented on it. It was a good thing, really, to be able to feed Mustang information without actually having to go out of their way and do it.

It also meant that Mustang didn't send Edward to Central on faulty info ever again, so the incident hadn't repeated itself. The man was apparently much more thorough in checking out exactly what he was sending Edward into nowadays. They'd see if it altered anything in the long run. At least there were less instances of the brothers being split up, so that was good. They were safer together than apart.

Rumour had it that Mustang had sent Ed on the drug bust due to the Alchemical reaction the red powder elicited, but finding out it was just cinnabar, a very unreliable, unstable and, in the grand scheme of things, useless Alchemical catalyst, had meant it was a bust on the “finding a way to get their bodies back” thing.

While he'd still been in the clinic, Ed had received more visitors than he could have imagined. Everyone from the main troupe came to see him at least once, not to mention Hughes and Armstrong.

And boy hadn't that first meeting been somewhat scarring.

What Ed didn't know, was that even his commanding officer had stopped by to check up on him. The blond had been sleeping at the time, so he hadn't noticed, which was just as well for the Flame Alchemist. He'd make sure to be seen entering Madame Christmas' bar so that there'd be no wrong ideas circulating anywhere.

The man had entered the medium-sized building in the late evening hours, the street-lamps in front were broken, thankfully, so even less of a chance of anyone seeing him enter. Silently, Mustang walked through to where his subordinate was and after peeking through the curtain pulled it aside to look at the 13-soon-to-be-14-year-old. He supposed the boy could have looked better and worse. Which was a relief, but it didn't tell him how bad it had been. Going by Alexia's disapproval, though...

He could have died.

Roy's fists clenched and he knew had he been wearing his ignition gloves he would have had enough friction to alchemise a flame. The snapping technique was just convenient and, nowadays, mostly for flair. Besides, the sound his alchemy made sounded like a snap so he'd just use that to his advantage. It was, after all, physically impossible to actually snap one's fingers while wearing gloves.

At the sound of a door opening, the 28-year-old stepped back and schooled his expression. He was calm. He was collected. He was-

-withering under the judgmental gaze of the red-haired doctor. He could practically feel the disapproval, but that was probably to be expected from one of Alexia's close friends.

The curly-haired man jerked his head towards the office he'd just exited and Mustang felt appalled at how docile he was acting, but realized that he owed his subordinate's life to the man, whether the man realized it or not. He probably thought very little of the Colonel at the moment, to be honest. It must've looked very bad from the doctor's perspective, really. But it wasn't like the man had the full picture. Still, he'd rather not perpetuate whatever image the man had formed of him.

He could be the idiot womanizer just fine. He couldn't be the man that sent children out to die. That was a line he refused to cross. Concerning reputation and true intent.

The man walked behind the desk. He didn't offer a seat, but the implication was hanging in the air. The ravenette would forever deny that he hesitated in taking the not-really offered seat, but he was on edge due to a number of reasons. The ginger doctor stepped to the edge of his L-shaped desk where a tray holding a jug of water and two glasses sat, tapping his fingernails against the metal, causing small ripples in the liquid.

After a beat or two of tense silence, the man spoke “There won't be any... permanent damage, I don't think. Partly due to my work and partly because Major Elric is still young and healthy enough for his body to help repair the damage. I'll still supply him with an emergency inhaler, just in case...”

Roy caught a train of thought from that and winced “It would be best if that didn't make it into his official file.” he almost commanded.

It wouldn't be good if the blond was discharged due to the incident... he needed to stay in the military until he'd managed to get his and his brother's bodies back.

The doctor tensed at that, but relaxed his body with a gusty sigh “I figured... obviously the kid has a reason to be in the goddamn military... but it doesn't change that he's a child soldier.” the red-head snarled, hitting the desk, before leaning against the smooth surface with both hands as the jug and glasses vibrated and clinked “And this is why the State Alchemist Exam should have an age-limit. They better have fixed that glaring hole by now.”

Roy chuckled sardonically “They did.” he assured the man.

Oh yes, they'd set an age-limit of 18 pretty much the day after Fullmetal had been appointed. It was something that had been taken for granted, that there was no way a minor could possibly manage to pass the exam. And then Edward Elric had set the new record for completing the written exam. And then there was the practical.

Suffice to say, there would never be another minor in the military after Edward Elric grew up.

The doctor snorted “Too little, too late.” he snarked, picking up the jug and setting it on a transmutation array, activating it to boil the water, then moving the jug onto a different array, which he used to rapidly cool the water before pouring Mustang a glass.

The Colonel blinked at the casual display of alchemy, impressed by the convenience but holding his tongue on asking why the man hadn't tried the exam himself. He'd already heard from Madame Christmas that Leo and Jim, at the very least, didn't trust the Military as far as 'Jonas' could throw them. Whoever Jonas was. The current impression was someone who could throw things pretty far.

That aside, it did raise a question. How good was the man at using his alchemy medically? After Dr. Marcoh's disappearance, the Military would stop at nothing to get someone of similar talent on their payroll, yet there weren't even rumours of someone like that in Central...

Either this man couldn't use medical alchemy, or he was hiding the fact that he could.

Roy could work with either one, really. With Leo's connection to Maes, it wouldn't be too out there for Roy and his men visiting the clinic when necessary.

An unknown variable would only serve him well in his plans.

And the man didn't even seem to dislike him too much anymore, so that was good. It would probably be best for his health if the man didn't have to treat Fullmetal again any time soon for something as serious as this.

And if Mustang paid for the emergency inhaler and its future replacements, well, no one needed to know.

Chapter Text

The days came and went and before long, they'd ran out of time. Well, not completely, but now they would see if things were still on track outside their own little bubble.

Time had come for Canon events.

They had established themselves rather firmly by now, in several ways. Their information network was vast and accurate. They felt a little bad about it, but it was needed. Said network...

Ishvalans. All of them. They were everywhere, in the slums as their true selves, in the middle of normal people in disguise. Alexia had no idea how it had even started, but... at some point after they had explained the State Alchemist Program's true purpose... some of their residents had started leaving. Which was fine.

But then they'd started calling the Theater's residential phone.

With updates.

Lisa had taken it upon herself to go and check up on the ones that kept calling and came back with the startling news of their newly established spy-network. They had divided up into two groups and used the skills they had developed from being part of the actors of Jörmungandr Theater.

They had even picked up enough to speak in code.

It had been dizzying to realize they had affected these people this much. It also proved Alexia's fear of causing ripples.

Not to mention... they still weren't sure if they were in the Brotherhood anime or in the original manga.

The 2003 anime had been eliminated pretty firmly from the start... not only due to the Rockbells' death, but also-

Qi. Chi. However it was supposed to be spelled, they had all learned to sense it. It had been... painstakingly slow, for some of them.

But they could feel the crawling underneath. Years of feeling it had dulled it, somewhat, the way you stopped distinguishing smells if they lingered around long enough. You got used to it. You could tune it out.

It was still there though, if you focused on it again, and it wouldn't go away.

It was convenient though. The pros outweighed the cons. Heavily.

They'd already noticed that the Homonculi felt different from other people, even Pride's shadows. Sure, it had been established in the series already, but- it was good to have confirmation. And it was relieving to know their training had brought them close to Ling, Lan Fan and Fu in their ability to sense qi. Mei, too, they supposed, but she was so young it wasn't something they wanted to think about.

It was also so, so convenient that qi sensing was a universal skill and not restricted to alchemists. Then they would have had problems.

In the end, whether they were in the anime or manga wasn't a big issue, but the details did get a little wonky. The anime had some plot-holes and inconsistencies that would just be a headache to deal with, really. So they were hoping, just a little, that they were in the manga. Partly due to the fact that they had most of the series digitally preserved on one laptop and two phones. Well, they'd put everything on the laptop so that everything would be in one place. Luckily, Marcus had screenshotted the entire manga timeline too. For fanfic purposes. It was strange, the things that could one day turn out important.

Those devices had been sent to Amestris with Al, Ed and Liz when they'd first gotten to this world and had realized the war was coming. Just so they would not lose their most important resources. Of course, it had taken a while before they had power again, thanks to Jonas, but it would have been very bad if the sand or fighting had destroyed them. All their modern devices were kept in the bunker underneath the theater.

But back to the present. They'd see soon enough whether MacDougal existed here or not, which would give them their definitive answer about the universe they had fallen into.

Sure, they could break into the archives where the personnel files were, but why risk it when they'd get their answer soon enough anyway. Either through events, one of their people, or from staking out the train station.

No, they didn't have a control problem, why do you ask?

The ice never came. Ishac, their for now only agent in Liore, called in with a report.

Manga it was.

Ishac, or Isak as he was known to the locals, had called to let them know that Father Cornello had been exposed as a fraud, but that things had gotten strange immediately after. Marcus had commandeered the phone and told him to lay low because it sounded like someone was going to bleed.

It wasn't a sophisticated code, but Ishac had understood what he'd meant. It sounded either nonsensical or just a euphemism for unrest... but Marcus couldn't just outright say that the Führer was going to bleed the town for the circle. They couldn't be certain that the phone lines weren't bugged. That was something that had been drilled into everyone that had stayed, no matter how briefly, under their roof. Talking in subtext was the other.

Sometimes Alexia wondered what would happen to their web of spies once it was all over. But those thoughts spiraled into dark thoughts since they were connected to what would happen afterward, period. But they hadn't planned that far. Couldn't plan that far. All they could do was plan up to the Promised Day and then... wing it, she guessed.

It was... not something she let herself dwell on much. Lest she start imagining having children. Because as soon as she turned to those thoughts-

“Why are they burying papa?”
“Papa can't go to work if you do that!”

No. It was better not to think about children right now... not now...

With what Marcus had told them, it wouldn't be too long until the brothers would be inspecting Youswell. Which would mean they should hear from Mikha soon enough. Honestly, why the man would stay there even with the care packages via train was beyond her. The blocks of emergency rations were rather unappetizing, but at least the man wouldn't starve. She was actually impressed the previous Warrior Monk hadn't just snapped and strangled Yoki already. Then again, there were kids there, so maybe the man's big brother instincts were what kept him there. It wasn't like his complexion stood out that much, what with the town being right next to the desert in-between Amestris and Xing, and he rarely even had to use contacts with how scorching it usually was. The coal dust helped mask his hair, too. So really, it wasn't difficult for the man to hide there. It was living there that was the real challenge.

He'd been doing well so far, at least. But still, they all worried.

~

Youswell. A hellhole if there ever was one. Well, perhaps that was harsh. And inaccurate. Ishval ablaze with war had been worse in a lot of ways. Mikha should know, he'd lost his immediate family to the fighting, as well as a kidney. He had no idea where any relatives he might still have could possibly be, what with everyone being so scattered. He didn't know what it said about the probability when he hadn't found relatives among the ones in the nest.

He was certain the owners had no idea their establishment was called that. No one was going to tell them either. He remembered Leo from the war, which was why he'd found the theater in the first place. Doc Oak was the only reason he was still alive today, so it was obvious that he would pay it back somehow. This was how he chose to go about it. Youswell was in the East of Amestris, with a corrupt official stationed there. After everything he'd heard about the kid and his superior, he was sure at some point Fullmetal would be sent there.

He knew Flame's reputation, but Mikha hadn't been in the man's area during the war, so he didn't hold nearly as much resentment as his burn-scarred brethren. Personally, all his resentment had gone straight to Crimson. Crimson... and Bradley.

Bradley held a special place in his soul for hatred. Disgust. Many other negative emotions.

Knowing that the man let a 12-year-old into the army so that he could be a human sacrifice... had magnified those emotions in a way he hadn't known was possible. Ishvala was testing him, he was certain. It took much self-control to not try and kill the man, but common sense stayed his hand.

That, and distance. Being as far away as he could while staying in the country helped his self-control immensely.

The only reason he didn't attack Yoki was the man's patheticness. When you knew of monsters, idiots like this one just didn't spark you anger the way they would otherwise.

Mikha, or Mike, as everyone in Youswell knew him as, didn't so much frequent Halling's inn as just went to spend money the snakes sent him so that he could survive a little better. It was nice to see that they worried about him. It hadn't taken long for everyone working at the Jorm to call themselves Snakes, with the owners becoming the Vipers. It was an easy way to address the two groups without going into specifics. Of course, all the Vipers had their own nicknames, which had made it easy to speak in a sort of code.

The problem with having a bit more money to spend was to not let anyone (Yoki) know that he had said money. Some of the guys knew 'Mike's' family sent him packages often enough, since he shared the emergency rations with those who needed them the most.

He'd heard from the Snakes that the kids had been in Liore, but he hadn't expected to see them in Youswell immediately after. Well, not exactly immediately, but he would have thought they'd head to East City to report or something. It was efficient, at least, and he had been curious about “Aunty Ed's kids” as was their code name. Miss Alexia was the one who interacted with them most, he'd heard, so it wasn't a huge leap to assign her sister as their call-word. Of course, it wasn't necessarily “Aunty Ed” in front of the “kids” any variation of her name was used. Personally, he used “Ed” just for the image of confusing anyone listening in. It always made his day. The gender-confusion wasn't the only thing he liked to perpetuate, either. Because no 30-year-old called a 31-year-old 'auntie'. Yeah, there was really no way to really connect the pieces without insider information.

Mikha came out of his musings to the sound of the door being slammed open. The no-longer elder sibling blinked as he took in what was happening.

He had his own animosity towards the military, but this was excessive in his opinion. At least they let the younger one back in, but-

“You do realize you just threw out a fifteen-year-old into the cold.” the Ishvalan deadpanned.

This got him everyone's attention “You mean you knew he was a Dog of the Military, Mike?” Halling demanded.

The veteran raised an eyebrow “My family lives in Central, Halling. I know all the best gossip. Of course I heard when a twelve-year-old became a State Alchemist.”

Halling looked taken-aback, as did a few of the others.

Mikha burned with a simmering anger at these Amestrians that would so easily turn on a child just because he was Military. Not realizing what it meant for there to even be a child in the Military. But most of all, he burned with the realization that if he hadn't stumbled into the nest he would be just like them. Ignorant. Self-centered. Stewing in his own hurt and grief and not acknowledging that the world kept spinning no matter what happened to him.

But he had.

He was a Snake now. And he was going to act like it.

He stood up, not even finishing his damn beer as someone called out “Where are you going?”

He snorted “I'm leaving before you kick me out for having a different opinion about who deserves our ire. I hate the Military too, but at least I'm not taking it out on a child that was so desperate the only way he saw forward was the Military.”

“Traitor!”

“I'm going! And I'm not coming back until y'all pull your heads outta your asses!”

Al watched as the miner left the building, wondering what he was going to do now that he'd alienated everyone. Not liking State Alchemists wasn't abnormal, so the man's own opinion had been a surprise, going against the majority. The man, Mike, reminded Al of Edward in that sense.

Ed looked up at the sound of footsteps, frowning slightly at the sight of the miner that had been sitting quietly in the corner of the inn. The guy had a red scarf around his head so his hair wasn't visible, and a pretty nasty scar from under his right eye and down below his shirt's collar.

“Come to kick me while I'm down?” the blond snarked, not really surprised if he was gonna do that.

The dark-skinned man rolled his eyes and dug around his pocked, chucking it at Ed once he'd found it “Trade.”

The alchemist caught the thing, a locket with intricate vine designs and a broken chain.

“The hinges've been jammed for years and the chain broke a while ago, I'd have to find a jeweler to fix it and that would mean going to a bigger city.”

Ed glanced at the man, who wasn't looking at him, before bringing his hands together. With a flash and some crackling, the locket was glistening as if it was new. At the effect, the guy looked back and, at the sight of the fixed trinket, brought out a square packet of something, handing it over in exchange for the locket.

Huh, so that's what he meant by trade.

Opening the packet revealed what could only be some sort of rations. He'd snuck into the Military food stores enough to recognize it. It would probably taste bland, but it would have enough nutrition so that he wouldn't starve.

The texture was sandy af, but the taste wasn't as bad as he'd feared.

“You don't seem like a guy that wears jewelry.” the blond mused as he chewed.

The guy huffed and sat down a few steps away from him, looking at the locket “It's... it was... my sister's.”

Ed's chewing came to a stop as he digested that tidbit.

“Mom gave it to her for her tenth birthday... she didn't make it past twelve.” the man sighed, opening the locket at caressing whatever was inside with his thumb “Everyone else is in Central, but I couldn't... stay there. So I decided to come here instead, where there's little to trigger things. I could've probably picked someplace better than this armpit of the East, but too late now.”

It was eerie how the guy still hadn't really made any faces. It was like he was stuck in a perpetual blank state. Maybe he was. Ed couldn't really tell in this light. Or, well, lack of.

The man sighed gustily “Ah, well, I'll probably have to leave now anyway.”

The blond tilted his head “How come?”

The dark-skinned man shot him a sardonic smile “These guys don't get why I don't hate a fifteen-year-old just 'cause he's military, so things are gonna get real uncomfortable real fast. Oh well, it was great while it lasted, I guess. I'll head out when you do, kid, since it'll be a few days before the train leaves again anyway.”

Ed raised an eyebrow as the miner stood up “Pretty sure you could leave beforehand if you really needed to.”

The man snorted “Nah.” before walking past him and ruffling his hair, much to Edward's ire “Us snakes gotta stick together.”

The Fullmetal Alchemist was left to wonder what the man had meant, but pushed it aside when Al appeared with coffee and a sandwich, since he couldn't eat it himself anyway.

Chapter Text

Mikha didn't go home after leaving the kid alone. He loitered around, out of sight, just in case. In case of what, he wasn't sure, but when he saw the kid saving Kayal from Yoki, he was intrigued. And amused.

The kid didn't even spill his coffee and just sipped it with such insubordination, though was it insubordination? Mikha had no interest in how ranks worked, he hadn't really tried to find out beyond the “all State Alchemists are automatically Majors” bit. Then again, with how the dumbass worm was acting, Major was maybe higher than First Lieutenant. It's not like he'd needed to know, at any point.

Watching from the shadows as Yoki tried to get into the kid's good graces and providing the kid with shelter, he figured it was time to go home. At least both boys had a place to sleep, now, so he didn't need to worry about that.

Someone would be up at this hour, he was sure.

~

Edwina was about to hit the liquor when the residential phone rang. Casting a mournful look at the vodka she abandoned her quest and instead made her way to the phone.

“Jörmungandr residential phone, Erics speaking.” she answered. No one really used their correct name when answering the phone anymore, their paranoia had reached that level pretty quickly. That, and she didn't feel like saying her entire last name, especially in a foreign language. It just sounded weird not saying it correctly, but saying it in Finnish would raise too many questions about their origins, so they refrained on all their accounts.

“Hey, Aunty Ed! I ran into your kids.” a familiar voice exclaimed. As much as you can exclaim without the audio going all scratchy. The phone-lines were really low quality.

The brunette paused, going through the timeline and grinning “Archie! No shit, what did those scamps get up to now?”

Archie. Arch Angel. Michael. Mike. Mikha. It was a rather long string for this particular code-name, but it wasn't completely out there either.

Mikha chuckled “Some of the locals were just a tiny bit racist, but it worked out pretty well, though the Worm did take the Snakelet with him, so I don't know about that...”

Ed couldn't contain her snort “Oh? I wouldn't worry too much, he has a way of screwing people over in fantastically elaborate ways. You might wanna grab some popcorn once he has reason for vengeance. You'll just love him confounding and confusing the idiot.”

“If you say so. Manager's kid got into some trouble, so it may be sooner rather than later, really.”

“You'd know best on that front. Our dear Professor is heading East in a few days, maybe you should come home for a change.”

“Sounds good. Straight there or did you want me to pick up something.”

“Nah, we're good, everyone misses you though.”

“Alright, night, Aunty Ed.”

“Night Archie.”

She set the phone back in its cradle before turning and leaning against the table. A perfectly normal conversation. That's what it had sounded like to anyone not in the know.

Manager's kid, Kayal. Worm, Yoki. Snakelet, Edward. Professor, Leo. The rest was more direct with a lot of unasked questions, like if Leo needed help with whatever he was doing in East City. The answer being no, and to get his butt over to Central without any detours. A very simple report and order, really.

Mustang would be impressed. Probably.

The eldest woman of the group hugged her middle at the phantom pain in her lower stomach, close to her back. It wasn't like she'd ever wanted kids, but having a piece of your gender-identity ripped away had been...

It was a good thing Leo was such a good doctor and hadn't lost more than some ability to produce pigment, rather than something essential. None of them had lost anything... truly... essential...

If this was the price she paid, then that was fine. So long as it was her paying the price.

Had they arrived at the Gate by anything other than an accident...

She was sure Alexia would be the one walking around without a womb. Because that was just how the white bastard operated.

She was sure no one realized what they were doing to her emotions, nicknaming the Elrics “Aunt Edwina's children”. She hadn't even interacted with them. Al had taken a few photos and Ed had come over at night when the kid was already asleep and his brother wasn't paying attention.

There just hadn't been a good reason to do so. She'd much rather interact with Mustang, and had after a few of the showings of Hamilton, but the Elrics? It hadn't really crossed her mind as necessary.

Shaking away her dark musings, the 31-year-old straightened up and made her way out of the establishment and towards Leo's clinic. She'd use her phantom pains as a reason to go visit while telling him that he should probably head to East City in the near future. Sooner rather than later, so that he didn't miss the small window when he could operate.

Literally.

~

Edward watched, grim as the building slowly stopped smoking. It wasn't like he could have stopped it, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth.

“I thought you weren't coming back?”

The State Alchemist turned his head slightly and cast his eyes toward Halling, who'd spoken. The statement was aimed at the dark-skinned man that had traded rations for the fixed locket. The man was digging around in the wreckage and finding a few items that were still salvageable. He looked like he'd had to do it before.

“The place ain't standing, I can do what I want.” the man called back, pulling out cutlery that were sooty and only somewhat mangled. He was wearing sunglasses, so Ed wasn't sure where he was looking, but his face at least was angled in his direction “Hey kid!” he called, waving the metal “Trade!”

The blond huffed, smiling slightly, before jogging over. Honestly, the rations weren't nearly good enough for him to do this, but what the hell.

It said a lot that no one tried to stop him.

This much, he could do, at least. He turned to look at the miner with a quirked brow “You don't look nearly as devastated as everyone else.”

The man, Mike, he was sure Al had said, snorted “No one's dead. And Yoki's men are apparently incapable of burning down a building correctly.”

“How do you correctly burn down a building?” Al piped up, as confused as everyone else who'd heard the man.

The guy probably rolled his eyes as he handed over a bag of cookies instead of rations, which begged the question where he'd gotten the cookies when they would have probably cost a fortune here “If you want to destroy an entire building and leave nothing standing, you light up all the sides, the middle, and the roof. Not just one wall. It's really no surprise so much stuff is still somewhat salvageable.”

Halling's wife seemed happy at what little he'd been able to fix. Then again, it was a lot more than just nothing.

Fixing stuff like this was easy.

Transmuting gold, however...

“-even if I give you money, it'll be taken away as taxes and then it's game over. I won't get anything either if I do anything like that. If it's so bad, why don't you just get out of town and get a different job.” the alchemist said as he shook off the brat's grip.

“Kid, you don't get it.” Halling answered as he led his son away “This town is our home and our coffin.”

Watching the kid walk away, Mikha wondered if this was the moment to bring out the popcorn.

Probably.

But first, another phone-call and distributing the rest of the care package, since he'd be leaving soon.

~

“Why? Why are you stopping me?!”

Mikha found himself sitting in a corner, as usual, out of everyone's mind as the drama unfolded in front of him. He'd come to drop off the rest of the stuff left from his care package and see whether the kid had done whatever over-the-top revenge that Aunty Ed had implied. He wasn't sure how the woman could be certain of the kid's reaction, but he trusted that she knew better than him.

Halling was, sensibly, against everyone attacking Yoki and possibly killing him, especially his son. The man was a good father, if nothing else. The door to the storage opened before the discussion could devolve much further, admitting the very smug-looking Fullmetal Alchemist.

Mikha took in his expression and took out the brown paper bag containing popcorn, figuring now was the time for it.

“Hiiii, everybody! I'm here to cheer up those gloomy faces of yours!” was the very chipper greeting from the blonde who was toting around an unfamiliar jewelry box.

The response to his abrupt entrance was not positive, but at least no one tried to attack, so, progress, he guessed.

“Why the hell did you come here?” Kayal spoke up before anyone else could.

“Now, now,, is that the way to talk to the manager of this place?” The kid asked rhetorically, still sounding way too smug about whatever he'd just pulled.

“Manager? What the hell are you-?” one of the guys got cut off by a slim stack of papers, probably just a couple pages really, in the kid's hand.

“As you can see, it's the deed for mining, management, sales... basically all businesses.”

“Wait, the signature- Edward Elric?!”

Oh. Oh. Oh, this kid was a riot!

“What?!”

“As you've realized, I am now the owner of this here coal mine!”

The kid had taken the entire coal mine from Yoki, somehow. That was... Mikha didn't have words for it but it was hilarious.

And apparently the jewelry box was just the deed's container. The Warrior Monk found it more and more difficult to hold off his laughter as the kid embellished the glorified papers, before finally getting to the point.

“...well, to the untrained eye, all of this lumped together... equals the price of one night and two meals for two at the boss's place. Do we have a deal?”

Mikha wheezed, dropping his popcorn as his poker-face failed spectacularly. Ishvala above and below, this kid-! He was a trickster fox incarnate!

Aunty Ed was going to be so proud-

The entire pit wasn't going to believe this!

“Where the hell did you get popcorn? … wait, why do you have popcorn??” Mikha couldn't have answered if he wanted to, still helplessly wheezing at the sheer nerve of what the kid had pulled.

And then Yoki arrived with lumps of useless rocks that had apparently been gold at some poi-

Oh.

Oh.

Mikha, who'd calmed down at least some, fell right off the barrel he'd been sitting on and laughed even harder.

The kid had transmuted rocks to gold and back to fuck with the Worm. And gotten away with it!

It was too bad he hadn't been able to pull himself together in time to beat up Yoki and his men, but he was recovered enough to celebrate.

Ed looked up, after straightening back up at the heavy hand on his head, rubbing his hair askew, into the face of Mike, who was grinning just as widely as everyone else.

“You're a vindictive little shit, aren't ya, kid?” the man laughed, handing him a bottle of apple juice, by the smell of it.

The blond grinned, unrepentant. He'd seen the guy laugh hysterically as soon as he'd revealed that he'd bought the mine. It had been great to see someone appreciate his scheming. Though how he'd been able to tell immediately what he'd done he didn't know.

The guy chuckled again “Never change, kid. It's always best to fight smarter, not harder.” he said, before shoving food in his and Al's hands “C'mon, eat, eat! You kids earned it and we've got a busy day tomorrow, the train for New Optain leaves pretty early so we've got to be there before that.”

Al tilted his head “Eh? You're coming with us? But-”

“Hell yes I'm coming with, I haven't seen my family in two years so it's high time I go visit. At least I know I'm coming back instead of having to leave permanently, so there's that.”

The rest of the night got a little blurry after that from the amount that Ed ate and also the alcohol that some of the idiots kept pouring on him, which might have made him a tiny bit drunk, who knows, but Ed woke up the next morning under a thick blanket, woven from a faded blue thread. Sitting upright and looking around he noted that a lot of people were still conked out on the floor. Not sure what to do with the blanket, he took it with him in search of his brother.

The soul trapped in armor was outside with Mike, who was already carrying both his own suitcase and what looked like Ed's suitcase, along with his jacket. The man grinned, holding up Ed's possessions “Trade?”

So the blanket was his. Weirdo. With a shake of his head, he traded the blanket for his stuff, putting his coat on while the miner pulled out an orange sash striped with black, though entirely black on the other side. The more colorful side was apparently the inner lining, strangely enough, as it was hidden against the folded up blanket as he tied it in place before putting it away in his own luggage.

“C'mon, kids, we're heading the same way up until East City and then I'm off to Central, we might as well go together.”

Honestly, this guy was kinda pushy but he had a point. Besides, he wasn't that bad of a company to have, he guessed. He and Al had gotten weirder glances from just the two of them, so adding this guy into the picture wasn't gonna do much, anyway.

Still weird.

But after what the guy had revealed about his own family, Ed couldn't really tell him no. It was obvious the guy had never really recovered from his sister's death and was taking care of any minors within sight. He'd heard enough from the other miners with kids.

Honestly, most people tended to stop treating him like a kid as soon as it turned out he was a Dog of the Military, or just competent. Mike was weird. At least he wasn't overbearing about it.

Next stop, New Optain. Then... south. Wait-

“If you're heading to Central, why are you going to East City? It's one heck of a detour.” Ed asked, going over the map in his head.

The dark-skinned man smiled over his shoulder “I gotta pick up something from there, can't go home empty-handed and there's this shop my cousin likes that I need to go to.”

Ed nodded as they walked. That checked.

Little did he know that he had been lied to. Snakes stuck together, after all. Even if two out of three were ignorant of their status.

Chapter Text

Mikha stared out the window of the Limited Express #04840 train from New Optain. After this, he'd take a day and then head to Central. It had been well over two years since he'd seen the rest of the Snakes. He only felt safe visiting now due to the fact that Yoki wasn't an issue anymore, so he had that to be grateful to the kid for. The entire incident told him a lot about the Snakelet, all of which he liked. The kid was the embodiment of a fox in the tales. Sly, sneaky, devious and always scheming. He'd need to be, to survive the Military. Flame had to be shielding the kid somewhat, for him to not have burned out yet and be able to roam almost freely around the country.

But only inside the country. Whether the kid had ever even thought about leaving the country in his travels he didn't know, but he did know that he had never been sent outside the borders. Mostly due to the unrest on almost all the boarders, he was sure, but also...

Yeah. Because of that.

The Vipers had said the time was getting nearer, which meant they would soon be recalling as many people back as they could. Not yet, but... the time wasn't as far away as they'd like, he knew.

Not to mention that Xing's Emperor was starting to get old, or sick, or just paranoid, from what Cricket, or rather, Jim, had told everyone. And even that was dubious information since it wasn't really advertised outside the court or the man's children. They didn't have many Snakes in Xing, mostly due to the language being a hurdle, even with the Vipers trying to teach it. Some people were better at languages than others, so those kin had been sent.

At least they didn't need to hide. Not really. Xing was a little xenophobic, but the prejudice they faced in Amestris wasn't present in Xing.

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough, but...

With the current leaders taken out of the equation... there was a chance of getting the Holy Land back. At least according to the Vipers. According to Alexia, who was married to an Ishval Civil War veteran.

And in Alexia we trust, as the saying went.

Glancing to his left, he noticed the little State Alchemist had nodded off. The kid could certainly sleep as easily as he breathed. Mikha hadn't ever been able to fall asleep on a vibrating train like the kid could. Glancing forward it was obvious the little brother had the same problem as him. When they'd been told of the kid's weird way of dealing with agoraphobia, he hadn't believed it. Well, he believed it now. Oh well, whatever got the kid out of the house without a panic attack, he guessed.

Edward finally slid sideways to rest against Mikha's arm and would probably have taken the entire bench if the man wasn't sitting there, but he couldn't exactly sit opposite to him with his brother's bulk taking up over half the opposite seat. Oh well, he'd just not mention this happening, the kid seemed touchy about stuff like that. He'd have sat on a different bench entirely if the car wasn't so full. They'd had no problem on the RMPT train out of Youswell.

And people wondered why he'd called it the Armpit. At least the kids got it once he'd pointed at the name.

The helmet of the armor moved, indicating that the kid was looking at something that had changed. Turning his own head, Mikha bit back a curse at the sight of a gun.

Well, shit. He really didn't need this right now. Youswell hadn't been a problem since Yoki's men had used swords rather than guns, but that also meant he hadn't built up a tolerance. The Ishvalan took in deeper breaths than normal as he tried to combat the sudden flashbacks of gunfire, explosions and flying sand. So much so that he didn't notice the trainwreck about to happen until the Snakelet was suddenly gone from his side and the idiot holding the gun was flat on the floor.

By the time another idiot was holding the kid at gunpoint, he was ready. As Alphonse moved the man's hand so that he wasn't pointing the gun at anyone anymore, Mikha elbowed him in the throat, taking the gun from the man's slack hand.

One last hit from the kid and the guy was out cold.

“So, who are these guys anyway?” the kid finally asked, obviously having heard nothing and only acted on instinct.

Mikha palmed his face, same as the little Snakelet “I swear to god, kid. It's a train-jacking, a train-jacking. And for these guys to take over a train and the Military to actually give a fuck, there's probably a high-ish ranking officer on board whose life they're trying to use as trade.” the Warrior Monk drawled.

The short blond let out an “Ah.” before securing the two gunmen so that they couldn't get up and attack anyone.

After a brief interrogation, they had the number of hostiles and their approximate positions “They probably have men in every car, so I'll go above to the front of the train and you guys take the ones down here? Oh, wait, maybe just Al...” Ed muttered, walking to the front and opening a window to climb out of, which was promptly closed by Mikha.

“Hell no, let's just take out the guys in the next car, and then you can use the damn ladder, punk.”

The look he received from the blond was so unamused, but at least the kid didn't argue with him.

Honestly, the recklessness of this kid.

Edward grumbled as he used the ladder between the carts to climb up after they'd taken care of the two guys in the car in front of them. He could take care of himself, damnit! Even if Mike had been right and this was the better option, what with the wind pressure, but still! At least he didn't get blown away by the wind, that would have been embarrassing. He'd also long since come to realize that while his automail leg was often noisy, such as on top of a metal train, it also gave him great protection, such as now when it stopped a bullet. Said bullet made a great distraction for him to take out one of the guys in the engine room while the two workers beat the other up with their shovels. It was glorious.

Of course, nothing could ever go smoothly, since when he climbed back on top of the train there was some asshole just waiting there to shoot him. He thought he saw the guy's lips move, but with the wind in his ears, it was impossible to hear him.

He could still seethe, though “That... is... dangerous, you asshole!” the blond screamed as he transmuted a cannon out of the coal and fired at the gang-member. Unfortunately the guy fell back into the train so he'd still be a problem.

“Hey!! Be careful with the tender! That's the life of the train!” one of the drivers roared at him over the wind.

“Ah! Sorry!” Wait- tender? A tender was made up of coal and-

Water. Ed smirked with glee as a plan formed.

~

Mikha waited with the Snakelet at the end of the first car, some transmuted ribbon tied to the end of the metal basket so that the people getting flushed out, literally, wouldn't fall off the train. At least that's what he figured from the pantomiming the Gold Snakelet had been doing from on top of the coal while he peeked over the car. It sounded like something the kid would do. Mikha didn't personally know how trains worked, but if there was steam, then there was water, and if the kid knew where the water was, well.

Oh, the door was leaking. The Silver Snakelet opened the door, letting the unfortunate bunch crash into the safety net and soaking both of them while at it. The Ishvalan smirked as he cracked his knuckles, the Snakelet making his own ominous pounding sounds until the three looked up with dread all over their faces.

“Wel~come~” was the ominously cheerful greeting the kid gave them.

These two were a riot.

~

The kids hadn't needed his help to beat the gun-automail maniac, though he had helped tie the guy up while the Gold Snakelet checked on the higher-up and what sounded like the higher-up's family.

Now they'd just have to drag all the captured terrorists into one car and wait for the train to arrive at its destination. Fun. And left mostly to him on his own insistence, since the shorty had had to fight against wind constantly while climbing the train and fighting, while the other was 14 so he wasn't gonna make him do it. The kid could take the closest ones while Mikha trudged back to drag the other four. The ones in the engine room could be left there, so long as the weapons were taken away.

And no, taking away didn't mean just throwing said weapons out the window, someone would find them eventually and then where would they be? Edward wasn't really impressed with his paranoia, but tough luck, since it was logical enough to not be discarded immediately, so ha!

He needed adults to talk to, he was regressing to juvenile behavior the longer he was around this kid.

Which wasn't really a bad thing, but it wasn't what was needed at the moment. Maybe after everything was done he could indulge.

~

The military was already on the scene when the train rolled into East City Station, which was good, but also made Mikha uncomfortable. At least he didn't need to haul the criminals out of the train, but he tried to be as far away from the soldiers as possible without leaving the kids alone or seeming suspicious.

“Hi, Fullmetal.”

The Ishvalan turned his head, glad he'd decided on contacts rather than just his sunglasses and made sure all his hair was hidden by his scarf, because the man who'd spoken...

Roy Mustang. Flame Alchemist.

He had never caught so much as a glimpse of the man in Ishval, but he'd seen his handiwork.

It wasn't pretty. But it had been better than the gore Crimson had left in his wake.

So while he did not have the automatic disdainful reaction those who'd been in Flame's area would have had... he wasn't exactly happy to see him, either.

But at least the man cared for his subordinates.

So it was safe to leave the Snakelets in his care. They'd be fine.

No matter how much the Gold Snakelet seemed to dislike the man, at least the kid trusted the man enough to turn his back on him.

And that said a lot.

Mikha still had to pretend not to care that he wasn't facing the man when he turned to leave after waving goodbye to the Snakelets. He had to find a phone. Maybe he'd use the other code-name for the brothers, since he was in such a crowded place. Sure, “Aunty Ed's kids” was kinda ambiguous, but with how well known the kid was in East City, it was probably better to go with the even more ambiguous name. “The Agau twins.”

Agau. Ag & Au. Gold and silver. It was very obscure unless you knew the Snakelets' basic color-scheme.

~

Ed was distracted from the Bastard at the sight of Mike leaving. At least the guy waved, but it was understandable why he wouldn't want to be around soldiers right now. He was a little disappointed, but waved back before focusing on Mustang once again.

Who had, of course, noticed and analyzed the damn interaction like the cockroach he was.

(The fact that Edward didn't call him a snake even in his mind had nothing to do with the feeling of a warm hand in his hair and a voice saying “Us snakes gotta stick together.”)

((Because if Mike was a snake, then Mustang had to be something else))

“Made a friend?” the smug bastard asked, obviously fishing.

Ha. Finally, something the man hadn't already known.

The blonde sighed, stretching “Miner from Youswell, figured he'd visit family now that everyone isn't in danger of starving under that incompetent First Lieutenant.”

Mustang huffed in amusement, but didn't comment on that fact, at least. He probably also figured why the man didn't stick around or approach anyone in-uniform.

Little known to Ed, Roy had inquired partly due to the cold stare he'd received from the man, but the blond's explanation made him dismiss it. He'd have no idea how wrong he was until much, much later.

Ed only rolled his eyes a little at the showing off the Colonel did when the guy with the cheap automail cut himself free and tried, and failed, to attack the Bastard. He was grudgingly impressed by the control the man showed, since the terrorist was only singed and not hurt that bad and, most importantly, not dead.

Burning things was easy, stupid easy. Not burning stuff while still using fire, well...

So yeah. Impressive.

Not that he'd ever tell the Bastard.

His mind wandered as he realized that it would be really easy for the Bastard to burn down a house until nothing remained, but shook the thought away as he followed Mustang out of the train station and towards East HQ.

He grinned as he realized that the Colonel now owed him.

Oh, this was gonna be good.

Chapter Text

It was a gloomy day, no matter how sunny the weather was. Of course, no one really understood what was going on at the moment. No one but a select few knew that at that moment, a man was spiraling down a dark road. One he would not, could not, be moved away from.

No one but a select few knew just what Shou Tucker had done... and would do. But they would soon find out.

Soon, it would be known exactly what lengths someone could go... to get an utterly pointless title.

Because in the end, it hadn't been worth it. But the broken man who had sacrificed all that was good in his life just didn't understand, and wouldn't understand, even when he was looking his death in the eye.

~

Ed would never tell anyone, but he enjoyed Nina and her dog's company. The girl was adorable and Alexander was fun to run from and after. It also made the little girl laugh, so that was a bonus.

The house, and Tucker, if he was being honest, gave him the creeps. Not only because of what Mustang had said about the talking chimera, but-

There were some uncomfortable details about a father that was obsessed with his work.

He barely remembered anything about his father, but what he could-

Well, it shaped his interactions with Nina, he knew. At least he'd had Al and Winry. Nina had a dog.

It really wasn't the same. It was a wonder the kid knew how to talk at all if Tucker really didn't spend that much time with her.

She was also kinda tiny... was she getting enough food?

He might have helped himself to Tucker's kitchen while they were there so that he could make sure the kid was fed. He blamed Mrs. Hughes' mother-henning for the reflex. Really. It might also have had something to do with Dr. Leo's inquiries about whether he was getting enough nutrients or not and the pamphlet about what nutrients a growing child needed and how to substitute common foods due to allergy or other hindrance.

Al couldn't harp about the moo-juice now that Edward was taking the proper supplements, so ha!

Evil white liquid fat water.

Anyway. The man's lab was also kind of... iffy, and no kid should really grow up seeing that sorta thing all the time. Then again, Ed wasn't really the epitome of responsible child-rearing, so who was he to judge.

(He wasn't a monster. And that was enough to judge.)

Nina was a happy child, despite everything, so there wasn't really any reason to step in in any other capacity.

Or, so he'd thought.

“I wasn't in charge at the time so I didn't see the actual thing.”

Mustang was meticulous. Mustang was good with information. At least, most of the time. Mustang rarely made mistakes when it came to investigation.

Looking at the bespectacled man crouching in the middle of his lab, next to a transmutation circle with a shadowed blob in the middle, in his very, very quiet house, Edward felt dread more than awe.

“Watch this,” the man said, before turning back to his creation “this person is Ed-ward.”

The chimera tilted it's white head, the brown hair cascading from the top of it swaying with the motion “Ed-ward?”

“...it only said one thing.”

The blond alchemist took a step inside, awe still being squished by dread as he played what he knew inside his head on a loop.

“That's right, good job.” Tucker petted the thing's head before standing up, looking extremely relieved.

“Ed-ward. Ed-ward.” the white and brown creature kept saying as Tucker kept speaking.

Mustang rarely made mistakes. But when he did, it was because there was more to the situation than he could have ever fathomed.

A white ceiling with the text 'Oake's Clinic' printed above him.

“Big... bro... ther...”

The younger State Alchemist swallowed with difficulty as things clicked in a way that he hated, but knew was true.

“Hey, Mr. Tucker? When did you get your license again?” the blond asked, mouth tasting of ash as he knelt in front of them.

The bespectacled man hummed from behind him “Two years ago, I believe.”

Deep breath “And when did your wife leave?”

“...Also two years ago.”

Edward brought a hand up to the child's cheek “One last question... where are Alexander and Nina?”

He heard Al gasp in the background, having realized it too. Just what Tucker had combined to get his two talking chimeras.

“... I hate smart kids like you.”

That was answer enough.

“'I want to die.'”

Shou Tucker didn't die at that moment, but it was a near thing.

Calling Mustang's office, Ed barely got the words out about what had happened and afterwards decided to sit outside East HQ, in the rain. And if he's vomited outside Tucker's house, well... no one could prove anything.

If some of the droplets cascading down his face had a little bit of salt in them, well then no one could actually tell.

He had never felt more insignificant than he did right then.

He'd always known, on some level, that there were people like this out there. But he hadn't been prepared to be faced with that fact like this. The Bastard was right, up to a point. But...

things like this were never going to be minor. Not to him.

It was always going to hit this bad.

Mustang might be able to go with his day like this was normal, but Ed refused.

Maybe a change in location was in order. He was tired.

~

Military Police were in charge of guarding Shou Tucker and his daughter until the man could be taken away. One of these MP's had been posted in Central and had been treated at a certain clinic. This particular MP recognized the red-haired doctor that strolled past the Tucker house and had a great idea.

This was how Nina Tucker was taken to the opposite side of the house, away from the MPs guarding the house and her deadbeat father. Doctor Leo Oak then proceeded to seal the room off so that no light or sound could travel in or out of the small space.

He felt only marginally bad about what was going to happen outside his work-space. He had been going to get access no matter what, but his previous patient had made it that much easier to do what he wanted.

“Play? Can... we... play?” Ninalexander warbled, causing Leo to swallow the bile trying to escape.

The man smiled, painfully, but he smiled “We're gonna play as soon as I make it stop hurting, ok Nina? I'm a doctor, and if you're a good girl, you'll get a lollipop after the check-up, how does that sound?”

The wagging tail was almost as bad as the warbling, but he managed to keep it together.

Taking a deep breath, Leo reached through the neck of his sweater and brought out a locket. It wasn't the locket Jonas had made, but a different one. It was a cheap piece of metal created for one purpose and one purpose only.

To hide the glow of a philosopher's stone.

They'd lived in Central for five or so years, now. They'd been in Amestris as a whole for longer. They'd had many, many opportunities to acquire one. They were in the very ground all over the round country, it really wasn't that hard when you knew they were there. And they were in pain, every single soul that had been fused into these red crystals.

Using them up was a mercy. They would have ended up in the Gate one way or another.

Using them for the sake of someone else was better than the alternates.

Who was he kidding, there was no real answer here, but they hadn't figured out Dr. Marcoh's stone-destroying array, so this was the best option available, currently.

None of them had really thought about fixing the things Truth had taken from them, but that one time when Tucker had been brought up-

He hadn't been able to get rid of the thought.

And no one had tried to stop him, either.

So he was doing it. He was using the souls of fellow human beings... to save one little girl.

It either was or wasn't twisted, but frankly, right now... he didn't care.

So while a mass of angry qi made its way through the mansion, in Leo's little corner there was a wash of red as two signatures slowly became three.

To make sure no additional patrols would take to the streets unplanned, the good doctor took one of the chimeras still in the lab and modified it... before setting the scene.

One figure left the way he came, while a few minutes later, three went through the back. Two walking, one being carried.

The Military need not know what else had transpired under this roof.

Chapter Text

It was pouring down, as if the heavens were weeping. Setting the tarp back down to cover the horrific sight, Maes sighed. He'd been sent to take back a prisoner. Not a corpse. This was one hell of a coincidence, looking at what had been done to the man and the abomination he'd made of his daughter.

If he himself had kids, he'd probably be even more disgusted, though he wasn't sure it was possible with the level he was already at. He was suddenly more understanding of his wife's decision of waiting.

But really, he'd expected better of Roy.

Perhaps he'd been more affected than he'd like to pretend, if he was making mistakes like this.

“... are you telling me to put a corpse on trial? For crying out loud, we didn't come here from Central to do an autopsy.” he lectured at his comrade, only partly for show.

“Yes, I know we made a mistake, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. Just take a look in any case.” the Colonel said, rubbing his forehead in exasperation and stress.

Maes knew all of Roy's tells.

“Well, looking at this...” the Lieutenant Colonel trailed off, glancing towards the covered corpse “no doubt...”

Major Armstrong nodded “It's 'him'.”

~

“Scar?” the Flame Alchemist asked, incredulous.

“Witness reports say the murderer has a large x-shaped scar across his face, hence the name.” Hughes explained “As for motive, murder weapon-” he sighed “We're working with noting. Everything is unknown except his victim pool.”

“Which is?” Mustang asked.

“State alchemists, all of them.” Major Armstrong reported dutifully.

“He's already taken out ten, five of them in Central. This would be... number eleven.” Hughes waved his hand, indicating the slaughter.

Roy nodded “Yes, that rumour has spread over here. To think it only one person, though...”

Maes fiddled with his glasses, before imparting some extra information “Don't tell anyone this, but just five days ago, old man Grand was killed.”

“Brigadier General Grand, the Iron Blood Alchemist?! The Military Hand-to-Hand Combat Specialist?!” the State Alchemist exclaimed, and with good reason.

For Grand to have been taken out- well. It certainly painted a grim picture. As if the carnage beside them didn't already.

The Lieutenant Colonel sighed “Well, if he's after well-known State Alchemists, then you and Tucker would be the only ones-”

“Shit.”

Maes felt a cold shiver work its way down his spine at the word. His feeling of dread only grew as Roy turned away from him and asked for someone to make sure the Elrics were still at the barracks.

No.

No way.

“What do you mean the Elrics are in town?”

Alexia was going to make him sleep on the couch if anything happened to those boys. And knowing their luck?

They couldn't find them soon enough.

“Bring out the cars! All those who can head out to the vicinity of the main road!”

~

Leo wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in the safe house, watching over his patient. Jim was supposed to be watching over things, with Marcus as backup.

But he was just too anxious. The sound of screams wouldn't leave him alone and all he could see was blond hair, dyed red where it shouldn't be.

He had never really recovered. He'd just managed to avoid reminders, specific as they were, for six or so years now. The exact date was a blur, to be honest, but years, that he could keep track of.

The rain beating against his umbrella did little to take his mind off the topic it had strayed to as his feet took him deeper into hostile territory. He'd walked past more than one MP on his way towards the destination he shouldn't have at the moment.

Edwina wasn't there to hold him back.

No one was there to hold him back.

He wasn't thinking straight.

This last one he would admit once he was having his breakdown, but right then? All he could see was yellow stained in red. All he could smell was copper. All he could hear were explosions- wait.

He looked up just in time to see the Elrics run into an alleyway further down the road, to his left. There were a few people around, though most of them made themselves scarce as Scar blew up the protective wall Alphonse had alchemized.

Leo stood frozen as events overlapped in a way they hadn't in over five years. Only this time it wasn't just what he'd seen back then. The manga, anime, and the events he had lived through all flitted across his vision, along with his nightmares from the night before as he shook, his hand spasming around the umbrella's handle.

Watching events transpire a mere dozen or so steps away from you were far worse than on a screen. The sound of Scar's comprehension entering Edward's automail and then cutting the three-step chain off at destruction, causing the appendage to fall apart explosively and not even at the seams was somehow both louder and quieter with the rain hitting his umbrella obscuring it.

The kid's balance was shot to hell. He wouldn't be able to run away even if he wanted to. Especially in this weather. The blond was risking hypothermia as it was already.

“I'll give you a moment to pray to god.”

“There's not a god that I want to pray to.”

Leo's vision was blurring. He couldn't breathe.

A tattooed arm being raised. Blond hair. A blade swinging through the air, blood splattering-

Blood splattering on his face.

He hadn't even noticed moving.

Scar leaped away, cradling his arm as Leo found himself standing between Edward and the Ishvalan.

The doctor breathed heavily, partly stuck in his head as he held the newly transmuted rapier, rain finally hitting him and at the same time washing away the blood on his face, droplets clinging to the inside of his glasses. He'd forgot to treat the surface to be hydrophobic, he'd have to rectify that.

“Hy...pocrite...” he hissed out, glaring at the man.

It had been something that had bothered him ever since he'd finished the series. A little before that, but it had bothered him as soon as he'd had enough knowledge.

Not only was he going to murder a child. Not only was he going to murder a big brother trying to protect his little brother, but the man couldn't even do basic math.

Scar narrowed his eyes “I will eliminate you too, for interfering with Justice.”

Huh. Maybe the murderer didn't recognize him.

The red-haired man's mouth twisted in a dark smile “Justice? You call this Justice?” he asked, chuckling, a tad unhinged. Shaking his head, the doctor stood up a tad bit straighter “This isn't justice. Heck, it's not even vengeance. Or even revenge. No. What you're doing is just indiscriminate murder. It has been since day one!”

Leo didn't wait for the man to reply, instead lunging forward and swinging, too fast for the Warrior Monk to react any other way than dodging.

He wasn't done lecturing, however “Edward Elric is fifteen years old.” the man hissed, teeth gritted as he landed another hit, ducking away from the human deconstruction so that it only grazed his brown trench coat as he spun, striking at the man's knee.

This was a feint, however, and Leo managed to thrust his blade through the man's shoulder, continuing “He was nine when your brother died. He was nine when you were brought into the field hospital. He was nine when you murdered the people who saved your life!”

Finally, the man realized who he was looking at, which was all Leo needed. He nailed the man once again as he continued “You killed two people for nothing! You killed my friends! Don't you dare call this justice!” the red-head screamed, readying the next blow.

“Leo no!”

The rapier was hit out of his hand as familiar arms grabbed him underneath his own, dragging him away as Jim kicked the Ishvalan away.

“Let me go! He needs to die!”

“Doct'rs save lives! They don' take 'em!”

Edward watched, horrified as the usually calm doctor with a small hysterics streak went completely hysterical. The black-haired guy that had gotten him out of trouble during the drug bust leaped back at the sound of a gunshot, which also made the Doc slump in the other guy's hold. Turning his head, Ed spotted the Colonel and a whole bunch of soldiers in a line a few meters away.

Those cars made a lot of noise how had he not heard them?

“That's far enough!”

Well, Mustang looked pissed.

Ed would never admit to feeling relieved at the sight of the Bastard, but right now- “Colonel!” he called out, clutching his port-

“Edward Elric is fifteen years old”

He was allowed to be a fifteen-year-old right now, damnit!

The window guy, Jim, Ed thought his name was, retreated to where Ed was kneeling on the ground in front of the alley where the brown-haired guy had dragged Doc and where Al was still on the ground, in pieces. The ravenette then took off his leather jacket and hurriedly draped in on Ed's shoulders before dragging him to the alley, further away from the white-haired serial-killer.

The ravenette was also holding Doc Leo's sword and was keeping a firm eye on the serial killer who, from what he could hear Mustang saying, had been behind the death at the Tucker house.

Only, apparently Mustang was pissed enough that he'd forgotten what weather it was.

Jim cursed, digging in his pocket, then digging in the pocket of his jacket which Ed was still wearing. If the situation wasn't so serious, it would have been funny. Heck, it still kind of was.

Hawkeye managed to defuse (heh) the situation by tripping her superior and instead shooting at the dark-skinned man.

“What was that for!!?” the Bastard yelled, now even wetter than before.

“You're useless in the rain. Please stay back, Colonel.” was the matter-of-fact statement from the blond woman.

This was also the moment when Jim found what he was searching for, chucking it at Mustang's head with surprising power and aim, since he actually hit him in the head and caused whatever it was to clink on the ground “Ow!”

The civilian ravenette shook his fist at the man “If you're gonna pull stuff like that then carry a flint! Or a blowtorch sparker!”

Mustang picked up the device, squeezing it and blinking at the sparks it made.

Of course, by that time Major Armstrong had made an appearance, so the Useless Bastard couldn't use the thing anyway.

Looking at the disintegration thing the murderer was doing, ignoring Jim's muttered “Your religion suuuucks...” when the white-haired man said something about divine intervention at the fact that so many State Alchemists were present, realizing something about what he was doing.

“Since I'm not going past 'comprehension', there's no chance of a rebound”

Ed sat forward minimally as he realized exactly what was happening “Major! He's breaking down the comprehension-deconstruction-reconstruction at the second step! He doesn't get rebounds at attacking the wrong material! His arm probably has an array on it!”

A round of comprehension on everyone's faces told Ed that he'd realized it first, which made him feel just a bit smug. He was more useful than the Colonel, and he was missing a limb.

Ha.

Jim looked at him, head tilted “So, instead of scribbles-touch-light-show it's just scribbles and touch?”

The looks that got him made him defensive “Hey, I leave alchemy to those two, I'm the normal one!”

There's nothing normal about you, is what Ed thinks but doesn't say.

Major Armstrong took off his shirt. For.... some... reason. Honestly, Ed was just glad no one seemed to understand what the hell the man was doing except-

Ah. He was the distraction, the youngest State Alchemist thought as he saw the soldiers and MPs surround them.

But with how the fight was going and what he'd already seen... he wasn't sure it would work.

That sentiment was only cemented further when Scar dodged Hawkeye's sniping.

No one dodges Hawkeye's sniping.

“Did you get him!?”

“He's fast.”

Yeah, made him wonder how Doc Leo had managed to survive the guy, and wound him. Then again, from what he'd said, the two had history. Personal history. That might have been it.

What Hawkeye had managed to do was hit the man's sunglasses, and who the hell wears sunglasses in weather like.. this...

“Red eyes and brown skin!” Armstrong began, sounding viscerally shocked by the sight.

Mustang also looked horrified by the reveal “An Ishvalan!?”

Ed had only faint memories of people that looked like Scar. Resembool had been hit by a few terrorists, the plague and many people had trekked through to escape the fighting. He had mixed feelings about them, but he'd realized pretty soon that people's looks didn't really matter much in the long run.

But that also meant he was reminded of their clothing.

Faded blues, greens, tans and browns on most of them. The colors varied, but something they all shared-

A sash. Striped. Orange and black.

Edward had a sinking feeling as he looked at the contrast between the scar tissue and the man's skin. It was the same as-

Same as-

“Us snakes gotta stick together.”

What did it mean?

Mike waving from further away, not coming near Mustang and keeping away from all soldiers, before walking away.

What did it-

“If you want to destroy an entire building and leave nothing standing, you light up all the sides, the middle, and the roof. Not just one wall. It's really no surprise so much stuff is still somewhat salvageable.”

Ed needed to focus, but he kept seeing Mike's face on top of Scar's. The effect didn't really go away until the serial-killer destroyed the ground and escaped into the sewers, but the damage had been done.

Mike was-

Why had-

Nothing made sense.

“Uh, Leo, man, where's the canvas for your umbrella?”

Jim's inquiry made Edward look at the man, who was looking at the rapier in confusion.

Wait, that thing was an umbrella? How...

“It's whatever.” was Leo's dull reply.

Jim glanced at him “Are you ok now?”

“No... you shouldn't have stopped me.”

The guy who'd thrown his jacket over Al's broken body reacted kinda violently “Like hell. Leo, yer a doctor. Doctors don't take lives... not like this.”

Ed held his port under the heavy jacket, swallowing at the look on the red-haired man's face. He couldn't see his eyes, but he could see enough.

The brown-haired man laid his hands on the doctor's shoulders, forcing the man to look at him. “W'en we woke up from tha' shit, you mad' sure no one bled out. You treat'd Wina when no one els' could figur' out what th' hell was wrong. You realiz'd she was bleedin' internally. You reconnect'd Jonas' nerv's in 'is eye so that 'e could see again ev'n if 'is night-vis'n is shot to hell. You fix'd ma arms when anyone els' woulda amputated an' you made sure nothin' got infected, even in tha' kind a heat.”

That was when Ed noticed that the middle two fingers on the man's left hand were metal. The man didn't seem to notice the soldiers around them, focused on the doctor who was looking a bit better.

“You ain't supposed ta kill. Yer supposed ta help.” the guy sighed “It's not yer nature. No matter how much yer hurtin'.”

Oak just leaned forward, resting his forehead on the man's shoulder. That had been enough, apparently.

~

Marcus let Leo fall apart silently against his shoulder. The situation was salvageable if they did things right. It could have been a lot worse, too. Jim and he had lost the Elrics and Scar in the chaos and slippery streets and had caught up just at the right time to stop Leo from making a mistake. Too many things hinged on Scar's arc and the Ishvalan needed to be alive. They should have known, really, that Leo was compromised. He was sure he knew on some level that killing the man was a terrible idea, but...

The Rockbell's deaths had hit him hard. Hell, he knew the man was traumatized, but none of them had realized just how deeply rooted his issues were.

At least it would be out of his system now... hopefully. Next problem, what to tell and who was gonna interrogate them. If they were lucky-

The designated cook of the entire theater glanced to the side at the movement in his peripheral. Mustang was trying to return Jim's spark-maker, flint, striker, whatever the hell it was called, which was actually Jonas' old one before he'd made a better version, but it was good for getting a spark, at least, and Jim liked the sound, which was why he'd taken it. It wasn't like he used it for anything.

The ravenette rolled his eyes so hard it was practically audible in his tone of voice “Keep it. Apparently, you're useless when moisture is involved. Why you don't already own one is beyond me, Colonel Mustang.”

The man huffed but pocketed the device. Maybe it would save his life, or maybe Havoc's lighter would be the one to shine once again. It pained him to think about that happening, but it was necessary. Cruel, but necessary.

They'd have to figure out if there was any way, any way of softening that blow...

Maybe...

Hmm, something to consider at a later date.

~

Roy rubbed his head in irritation, eyeing the scene. Not only did Hughes and Armstrong now knew about Alphonse's body, but three, three civilians had also seen it. They were taking it surprisingly well actually, then again, one of them was almost catatonic and the other two were focused on said catatonic- wait.

Shit those were all familiar faces.

And the catatonic one was Doctor Oak.

Who apparently knew how to fight and had managed to wound Scar with a sword made out of an umbrella.

This was a mess...

But it also begged the question...

Just what was the man's connection with an Ishvalan serial-killer?

He couldn't let just anyone question them, who knew what would happen to anyone involved, and-

Well, they were Alexia's friends and colleagues, and he owed Fullmetal's life to the Doctor... perhaps twice over.

Shit, this was going to be a nightmare to handle.

Chapter Text

They were a big enough group that no one looked twice at the three strangers, especially when there was a crate with an armor in it to wonder at. Not that they met many people while making their way to the office. Mustang knew all the ins and outs of the building, it seemed. Though, by the looks of it, Ed wasn't too surprised by the route either, nor was Falman. But Falman was Falman. His perfect recall of buildings was a big part of why he was such an important character.

Marcus chewed on a toothpick, having quit smoking due to the rather lackluster medical care that wasn't alchemy based that was the norm. He didn't want to get lung cancer here. Leo could most likely heal him from it, but he wasn't taking chances of it popping up at the worst moment, and knowing their luck, he totally would get lung cancer during Mustang's revolution. That would be bad. Their current situation was bad enough.

They had miscalculated. Badly. Thankfully it was salvageable, but Leo should never had been allowed to self-diagnose. Honestly, in hindsight, this had been a long time coming. Thankfully it had come up now and not... later.

And he just realized he couldn't ask about Nina without alerting everyone not in the know to foul play.

Leo probably called a babysitter... probably...

Shit.

Fuery had gotten towels from somewhere, Marcus didn't even pretend to know where anything was in the East building, they'd been concentrating on the Central portion and had mapped out pretty much everything by now, even if patrols were haphazard enough that no one went solo-sneaking. Honestly, it was safest to go when Pride was occupied with something else or just not in any mood to sweep the city.

Shaking away the thoughts about the creepy crawlies in the night, Marcus tugged Leo's hairband off and started to rub the ginger's hair violently, only partly in punishment. It thankfully also jolted the doctor into motion and made him do it himself. Small mercies.

The almost somber silence was finally broken by the youngest member of the military “What the hell was that?”

What a loaded question.

The two standing members of their little group shared a glance while Leo still sat in someone's chair while drying his hair, ignoring the world around him as best he could. Marc sighed “Kid, 'ow much d'you know 'bout Ishval?” the cook asked, looking worn.

The kid looked at him from under his own towel, slipping it off his head “Not nearly enough, apparently.”

Marcus could feel Mustang, Hughes, Hawkeye and Armstrong's chi sharpen as soon as he'd spoken, so he knew he had to choose his words with care “Yeah, braggarts get shut up pretty fast if they say th' wrong thing near us civilians. Then ther' are th' ones that di'int see any action or enlisted afterward... th'n there's the dead ones... the ones who left... and...” the brunette cast his glance towards the four veterans in the room “th' ones with a conscience...”

Marcus shook his head, as if oblivious to the wight of his words “Point is, no one talks 'bout th' war... for many reasons, but mostly... 'cause fer some peopl', th' fight was nev'r over.”

Jim sighed, picking up “But see, the worst part wasn't the racism or the catalyst, it was that a lot of people got stuck in the middle when the war started... the borders around Ishval closed pretty abruptly and even civilians who had missed the glaring warning signs were left stranded in what would soon become hell on earth.”

Marcus could see the dawning comprehension on Hughes' face and felt only slightly bad at the memories he was digging up, but it was necessary. “Lexie and Liz were in Centr'l, thank god, but th' rest of us? Eight years stuck in a warzone, unabl' to trust anyone but us. We hid from ev'ryone... 'cept wh'n Leo foun' som' colleagues to hold a field hospital op'n, at which point we w'rn't hidin' that much from the Ishvalan peopl' in gener'l. It was th' military tha' would shoot first by then.”

Jim rubbed his face “Everything was... well, not fine, per se, but not completely hellish, for a while... 'til Leo came to camp covered in blood. None-a it was his.”

“They saved his life... and he killed them.”

Everyone turned to the no longer catatonic doctor, who'd finally stopped rubbing his hair and let the towel drop to his shoulders.

“They dragged him in from Crimson's area... he was the only survivor. They found him underneath the cooling corpse of a man who looked a lot like him. Yu and Rara stabilized him, but anesthesia was running low enough that they couldn't use it willy-nilly... he woke up...” the ginger inhaled shakily, hunching his shoulders.

“He woke up and murdered them for having blue eyes.”

Jim scratched his head as he sighed, keeping an eye on the soldiers and their reactions “Blue eyes became triggering for Ishvalans, kinda like red eyes became triggering for Amestrians, only difference is that while blue eyes may be the majority it isn't the be-all-end-all like red eyes is. Leo looked nothing like 'em, so he survived that, but...”

Marcus cast a baleful look at his comrade “Yeah, ya don' get ta self-diagnose anymore, dumbass.”

“I don't trust the psychologists, leave me alone.”

Marcus grimaced “Yeah, all th' qualified ones 're at the v'ry least Military-adjac'nt which means they c'n't be trusted...” he glanced around at the soldiers around them “No offense. Hughes don't count, he's fam'ly. An' even then, we don't tell ya shit unless it's necessary.”

Hughes looked tired as he waved the notion off “Yeah, yeah.”

No matter how composed they'd all looked in the manga, it was obvious talking about Ishval was still triggering. They still looked composed, but the chi didn't lie. All the veterans were unsettled.

The cook continued after a moment of silence “As fer 'what the hell' that whole debacle was...” he trailed off, now looking at Edward “What's-his-face got dragged from th' area wher' Solf J. Kimblee was station'd. Th' Crims'n Alchemist. 'e blows people up. Real bloody. Real traumatizin'. Plus 'e was in Ishval and probably saw a lot of 'is friends and family get slaughter'd. 'is mind's gotta be all sorta warped 'cause a that, so 'e's killin' ev'ryone who was part of it but 'e's also killin' ev'ryone with th' same job. 'e's basically a murderous idiot that can't do rese'rch or basic math. 'e thinks 'e's right, but e's not. But try tellin' that to a f'natic. 'es probbaly also attackin' th' alchemists 'cause ther' 're jus' too many soldiers to go that route.”

Hughes looked like he wanted to disagree with how he'd put it, but couldn't and instead put his head in his hand and groaned.

“Ya can't argue, it happn'd six year ago, so basic math says th' kid was feckin nine at th' time. Who th' hell kills someone for shit they arn't ev'n remotely the right age to h've participated in?”

Mustang was apparently also exasperated by the wording “It's not that. It's the fact you make him sound less dangerous than he actually is.”

Roy wasn't sure how to feel at the moment. On one hand, he'd just found out a lot more than he'd wanted about Dr. Oak and his reasons for not becoming a State Alchemist even though he was so talented. This... was as good of a reason as any. Better, even. In fact, this might put all of them firmly in his camp were he to approach them about his plans. They seemed to have some inclination to his own morals which, to be fair, weren't too hard to figure out with their own background. Like recognizes like, and all that. But belittling a cold-blooded killer like that was perhaps a little...

“It doesn't really matter.”

Fullmetal had a haunted expression on his face, flesh arm clutching his empty automail port, still hidden by the red-brown leather jacket that didn't belong to him and was too big for him.

“The guy's a monster. I'm not an idiot. He killed an MP that had come looking for us, right in front of us. I know exactly how dangerous he is. We ran as far as we were able for a reason, damnit.”

Roy wanted to make a comment about running away like a child, but this was not the time to antagonize the blond. After all, it had already been established that while Scar was stuck on killing those responsible for Ishval, it was absurd that he was trying to kill a person who had barely been born when the war had first started.

Roy could also do basic math and count just how old either Elric had been when the war started, thirteen years ago.

The surly brunette's eyes strayed to the blond as he tugged his sleeve over his hand before rubbing the kid's head. The man was missing fingers on both hands, so it was understandable that he didn't want Edward's hair to catch in his automail's joints.

The black-haired acrobat sighed “The man's an idiot, but he's a dangerous idiot. Those are honestly the worst ones because you can't reason with them. He's irritating because while he's so wrong it actually hurts to think about, he's also a victim of a genocide that... honestly was so unnecessary. A lot of people are still like that, on both sides, because for some people...” the man cast his eyes around the room “the war was never over.”

Mustang breathed in. He wondered if this was how they'd written Hamilton. It put many things into perspective. He also realized they'd had to self-censor much. It wasn't safe to be against the military, especially in Central.

He also realized with a start that he could have them as allies now. They were very obviously against the war and there were many things that hadn't been said in their explanation.

He almost didn't notice the note that was slipped from the doctor to the ravenette and then onto his desk. Mustang slipped the note into an internal pocket for him to read later.

Obviously, there was more to be said that they daren't say in an environment that might be bugged.

They were paranoid for civilians, but it could now be explained away. He needed to see exactly where on the spectrum they were in accordance with pro-military. He knew they were somewhat against it, now to get details.

The Flame Alchemist sighed “Well, there's no need to keep you here for any longer, I'll just put you down as random passersby that got stuck in the middle, less paperwork that way.”

All three civilians smirked at him, before glancing at Alphonse. Ah. Yes, that.

“And I hope you realize that speaking of this would be a bad idea.”

The brunette raised a hand “Look, Colonel. We don' wanna know. I's not our business. An' 'Lexia's explanation werks jus' fine to explain the whole thing. I don' do that kinda alchemy, I deal with metal, mostly. Leo's the medic'l expert so it don't really concern 'im either, an' this idiot,” he jerked his thumb to indicate the remaining third of their group “don't know shit about any processes ever. So we're good.”

The fact that Jim didn't protest spoke volumes, really.

Roy was just glad to have this entire incident minimized as much as it was by simply cutting out the three civilians involved. And to maybe have made some allies, too.

As Havoc left to show said civilians out of the base, they started to discuss what they should all do next.

Namely, what the Elrics should do next, seeing as they were a little half-formed at the moment.

Chapter Text

Leo didn't say anything on their way to the house. Once there, the red-haired doctor knocked on the door according to the drumbeat of Melissa's opening. It was a common enough code among them. The door opened not soon afterward to show an older Isvalan man who could pass off for an elderly southerner due to the fact that you couldn't exactly see his eyes. Nathanael had many grandchildren, even after the war, and was used to taking care of them for a few hours or days depending on the situation.

“Ah, Doctor Levi, welcome back.”

Leo pretended he didn't hear the sigh of relief from behind him.

Levi was a name he'd been gifted by his Ishvalan patients. He was sure, had they lived through the war, that Yuriy and Sarah would also have received names.

“United” wasn't a bad name, considering...

Names were sacred, gifted to people by Ishvala, through the receiver's elders. A child didn't always receive their name from their parent, whether due to said parents' death or... other unsavory reasons.

There would always be someone older to name the child if a parent was unfit for any reason. In the olden days, this was not so, but their people did change as the situation called. And the war had definitely called.

Leo never introduced himself by his Ishvalan name. Because not all of the survivors would see it favorably. He wouldn't like it either if some foreigner claimed they had the rights to something of his own culture. Actually, it had already happened with people trying to spread rumors and take credit for the songs and plays their troupe had brought with them. In this case, it was very obvious to the seven of them that the persons were lying out of greed. Proving the issue was another thing entirely. Mostly Thomas Jefferson's way of dealing with it worked. Aka, not dignifying schoolyard taunts with a response.

There were always exceptions.

Leo smiled at Nathanael “Thank you, Uncle. How has she been?” he asked, stepping inside.

Marcus and Jim followed suit, nodding in greeting.

Once the door was shut, the Ishvalan man spoke again “She has slept the entire time you have been away. Her dog has not left her side, guarding her all the while. Though I suspect the faulty leg is part of the reason he stays still.

Leo nodded “Thank you for watching her.” the unsaid watching over her was surprisingly loud between them.

The old man only smiled “But of course. This is a very small repayment for all that you and yours have done for us.”

Leo was glad the man saw it that way because sometimes the doctor felt very inadequate.

Marcus clapped a hand on his shoulder as he walked past him and disappeared into the kitchen, Jim wandering into a different part of the house. Leo sighed. He was in trouble now, but at least they weren't angry.

Disappointed, probably, but not angry.

Worst part was, Leo only regretted what had happened a little. Now that he was calm he certainly realized that killing Scar was a Bad Idea. But at the time-

He just wanted to punish the man. He wanted to kill the man he was currently, not wanting to think about the man he would become in the near future.

Heck, now that he replayed the incident, he might have actually sped up the process. Who knew.

Ripples, man.

Their inability to change things without derailing this entire train was only part of what made them truly hate their continued existence in this world.

The doctor opened a door he didn't remember walking to, but obviously had, and peered inside at the sleeping child, smiling at the dog as it lifted its head to look at him, before dismissing him as a threat.

This made all the suffering worth it, though.

He hadn't been able to separate them perfectly, Nina's teeth were sharper than they should be, she was colourblind and Alexander had lost function in one front paw. But they were separate, and they were alive.

Now he just had to alchemically alter their hair colours so that no one suspected anything when Lisa suddenly gained a niece.

A daughter would raise too many questions and he wasn't sure if Liz was even ready to be an actual mom like that. They would see.

~

Honestly, slipping away to Central was both easier and harder than Roy had expected it to be. Making it seem like it was one of his normal visits was also slightly difficult, since the Jörmungandr theater wasn't showing Hamilton currently, or for a while, even. Roy had actually never been to a normal concert, but he made it work. Thankfully he had some unused vacation days he could splurge, and it wasn't even that out of character for him. Eyeing the posters, he wondered if perhaps they were trying to tweak his nose, calling this week's shows “Pyromania”. Oh well, he would find out soon enough.

Buying a ticket wasn't normally something to take note of, but Roy had noticed the seller's expression at the hand gesture of showing the back of his hand with the ring finger folded inwards that he'd been told to use, and the fact that his ticket was taken from the other side of the box they were usually kept in. He did wonder what it said about him that he knew that the tickets were never moved. Truly, it was not out of character for him to be here. At all.

Looking at the piece of paper, he noticed quickly why it was kept separate from the real tickets. Or perhaps the normal tickets. He couldn't be completely sure. It might look like the average ticket, but the text on it was completely different.

Box 5. Wait for escort.

Well, it would seem the entire staff was in on whatever was happening.

He wondered if Maes was aware...

Probably not.

And wasn't that worrying.

Though he had to admit, they seemed to have this down to a science.

~

Adar, 20 years old, was the youngest of three and had lots of cousins. Or, at least he had been. Now, Adar was an only child but had many, many siblings under the same roof. He'd always been passive, so the war had been hard on him, just as it had been on everyone else. His mother had been carrying his first younger sibling when it had all started. It hadn't taken more than three years for Adar to be completely alone.

Adam Woods, 20 years old, was a big brother, but had decided to move away from the hustle and bustle of the city and was selling wood-carvings and had gotten a job at the train station, helping load and unload things. Some of those things were his carvings, which were being sold at one of his siblings' stores in one of the bigger cities. The kids liked the figurines he made and let them paint.

This was the man the people of Resembool had grown to know for a year.

Everyone knew that Adam often received mail from his family and no one looked twice when he received a package. This was the way Adar liked it, since no one needed to know that some of those packages contained hair-dye and coloured contact lenses plus the washing solution for said lenses. Thankfully it wasn't odd for him to wear a headscarf or sunglasses around here should he run out of either too soon. The young man often went to gossip to the Rockbells, since of course, his family would tell him all about the exploits of that kid who became a State Alchemist. He was a welcome guest in the clinic if only because the kid didn't send letters himself. Looked like the Vipers had been right about that. Then again, what weren't they right about?

He thought he'd been prepared when he'd gotten the call, but as he walked in the direction of the Rockbells, his feet stopped moving at the sight of the looming man accompanying the worn duo. Adar couldn't breathe. His heartbeat was suddenly so loud that it drowned out the birds, the wind, the faint sound of talking. His body shook as he suddenly felt cold, cold, cold.

This was why he'd been pointed in the direction of Resembool. A lot of his countrymen had issues such as these, which meant they took to either hiding permanently in the Theater or moving to a rural spot with next to no Military presence.

Adar thought he'd been getting better.

Obviously, he hadn't. He just hadn't noticed, because there was nothing to trigger him.

But apparently-

Crackle- whoosh- splurt!

Adar had survived because his brother had shielded him with his body. Even in death. He'd been lying under his brother's cooling corpse for who knows how long before he'd dared crawl out from underneath him and others of his kin. He'd spent that entire time staring at the wall that had been made to trap them.

He remembered the man who had created it.

He wasn't-

He wasn't fine.

Adar spun around and shakily went back towards his house. Hopefully, if he stayed away from the Rockbells he wouldn't even catch a glimpse of the man. As he walked, he was unaware that he had been spotted.

~

Ed looked at the retreating back of a tan guy he didn't recognize, a sinking feeling in his gut. He'd seen the guy standing a bit away, staring at Major Armstrong like he'd seen a ghost.

Or a devil.

He'd seen the way the guy had looked and suddenly couldn't help but see something that he wasn't supposed to. Too many things were... familiar.

Mike waving from further away, not coming near Mustang and keeping away from all soldiers, before walking away.
“Everyone else is in Central, but I couldn't... stay there. So I decided to come here instead, where there's little to trigger things. I could've probably picked someplace better than this armpit of the East, but too late now.”

Scar taking hold of his automail arm, a crackle of electricity, then the automail bursting into pieces.
Scrambling to get up off the ground and failing because his balance was completely off, lying on the ground, realizing he was about to die-
“I'll give you a moment to pray to god.”

Ed needed to focus, but he kept seeing Mike's face on top of Scar's.

The scarf was a good way to hide your hair. It was the same style Mike had used. He'd seen coloured contacts at the theater the few times he'd been backstage, so he knew you could hide your eye-colour that way, which was probably how Mike was doing it. How this guy was doing it.
Ed wondered if there were more Ishvalans hiding in plain sight.

“Us snakes gotta stick together.”

No, there definitely were. Lots of them. And they all knew each other.

But why would Mike-?

Maybe he could talk to this guy. Get answers.

Or at least let 'em know about Scar. It would hurt them too if there was a manhunt for a Scarred Ishvalan State Alchemist Murderer.

And Ed liked Mike, damnit!

Chapter Text

Roy... might just start coming to the Jörmungandr Theater for more than just Hamilton. Especially once he inevitably got reassigned to Central.

And it was inevitable, they could only shove him into obscurity for so long before they decided they needed to keep a better eye on him. Especially since he had Fullmetal on his team, and the recent murders. And once he was stationed in Central, well...

He might just have a secondary information network in his hands by then.

He'd just have to see what they wanted first. He already knew Alexia was firmly against Bradley, and with this knowledge in mind, even Hamilton got a different meaning. Or perhaps he was projecting his opinions onto the character that was King George. Bradley was much smarter than the character, but it was an obscure way of mocking him, if that was what it was.

But no matter, what he was currently focused on was the music. Every seat had had a pamphlet with a list of the songs to be played that evening, possibly so that people could buy the records that had the songs on them should they wish to do so.

Roy just might. It would go straight beside the three Hamilton soundtracks. Of course, he had three, he listened to them often enough that they would inevitably break and then he would have no soundtrack.

The first song of the evening had been... unsurprisingly... “Pyromania”.

He could appreciate the humor, really, he could, but he also hated himself for liking the song. Though, it would seem they didn't have quite enough songs about fire to be able to use only those. Though many lyrics had fire in them somewhere, the titles themselves did not. Although he couldn't say he was surprised by the many songs with Hell in the title or lyrics. It fit, he supposed. As did the explosion ones.

They even had some about war. Just, in general, not any actual wars. Possibly because they didn't want to trigger anyone with anything that had actually happened, but still wanted to appear patriotic somehow. It was no wonder no one had noticed their anti-military stance. They must've taken inspiration from actual battles and soldiers, but then changed the names and possibly dates too. It was obviously set in the imagined world they had based “Hamilton” in. They probably fudged up a lot of details so that you couldn't immediately draw parallels to any real people.

But some of the songs felt like they were aimed at him specifically. He knew it was stupid to think like that, but-

“The Colonel's Journal” had no true place in the sequence unless it was meant for him!

Although, perhaps it was just because “The fight was never over” was part of the song's lyrics. He remembered both of Doctor Oak's companions saying the phrase. Or, close enough, at least. It had stuck with him, alright?

“Nothing is true.”

The Flame Alchemist flinched, cursing himself for not noticing someone entering the box, having been too deep in thought. Turning around, he was met with the visage of the miner from Youswell. The man's face was unreadable, but his mere presence sent Mustang spiraling.

Just what the hell kind of operation was this so-called theater running!?

He didn't let his perturbed thoughts show on his face though, and instead finished the identification-phrase “Everything is permitted.”

The man nodded, before jerking his head diagonally to the back-left “C'mon. No one's in the halls now, so no one will notice you going backstage, and it's not weird to leave this place after most people have left. You seem to follow that trend, anyway.”

Well, he wasn't wrong. Roy liked to wait until most people had left, then leave once the halls weren't packed with people.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know why these people knew that. Honestly, that tidbit may have just come from Maes, it wasn't incriminating.

This man's presence, however...

The Colonel rose from his seat and followed his escort through the halls, through a door that said “Staff Only” and was locked besides. Made sense to lock it, especially if they were running some sort of operation, whatever it may be.

Honestly, now that he really thought this through, he should maybe have brought backup just in case this got ugly.

But then again, bringing backup might have just made things ugly.

He was finally left in a recording room. It made sense that they had their own, and it also meant that the room was soundproof. All visible recording devices had also been removed. This meeting was going to be serious, he could already tell. He'd assumed, of course, but this-

Well, it told him a lot.

The ravenette sat down on one of the couches to wait, his back to the door. It gave him the chills, but it was best to appear casual at the moment. He shouldn't act like he had any power here.

Besides, he doubted he was in any real danger here. If they had wanted to kill him, they could have done so very long ago, what with Alexia being married to his best friend.

And wasn't that morbid? But he wanted to trust these people... and he wanted them to trust him in return.

Needs must.

He just hoped he was right.

He looked behind him at the sound of the door opening and came face-to-face with Edwina, along with Doctor Oak's two friends. Alexia's sister was the leader, huh. He wasn't as surprised as he thought he'd be.

The woman eyed him as she stepped past the couch, toward the second one “What is our creed?”

The second identification-phrase. They were thorough, if nothing else.

“Safety and peace, brother.” Roy didn't deviate from the written word, no matter how much he wanted to. He did not wish to see what their reaction to that would be.

The brunette nodded as she practically fell into the middle of the rather plush piece of furniture, Marcus taking a spot against the back wall and Jim sitting on the woman's left, on the armrest. To Roy's right.

It seemed they weren't trying to crowd him, but kept themselves within his sight.

This was good.

It told him much.

As had the identification-phrases, if not the hand gesture. He wasn't sure what the hand gesture had meant.

It was a subtle but easily identifiable gesture, though, so kudos to them.

The woman in charge wasn't looking him in the eye, but rather at his tie. Hands clasped, faintly biting her lower lip, elbows on her knees. It was obvious she didn't actually want to have this discussion, whatever it may be.

“... Ishval...” she began, trailing off before taking a deep breath “There aren't really words to describe it. The guys told you already, that we saw things from their side, rather than yours, but... we learned to hide well enough that we did catch sight of the soldiers, too.”

She grew quiet once more, almost hesitant, before she looked him in the eye, a familiar fire in her expression even as he paled at her next words.

“There weren't many eyes like yours. At least, not on Amestris' side of things.”

She had- they had-

Then why-?

“Despair. Disgust. Self-loathing.” she paused, searching his face for something, before continuing “No, there weren't many eyes like yours. But we made note of the ones we saw. We made note... of you.”

That was-

Not what he'd expected.

The ravenette beside her picked up from there “I went to Xing around that time to learn this neat trick they're specialized in. They call in Chi-sensing. It's basically honing that sixth sense you get in battle, but way, way better. I used it to avoid soldiers, mostly, while delivering medicine and stuff to Leo and his friends. Then just Leo. I've gotten better at it over the years, so now I can sense emotions.”

“Which brings us to this conversation.” Edwina explained, straightening to lean against the back of the couch.

“No matter how composed you might have looked on the outside, I could feel that you hadn't changed. You may be able to hide it now, but your eyes are the same. You and yours are good, and Hughes-”

“For my sister to marry a soldier, they'd have to be special. That he is your friend... says a lot for both of you.” the woman continued, her eyes once again fixed somewhere below his eyes, seemingly lost in thought.

Marcus shifted forward, clasping her right shoulder, to which she responded by lifting her left hand to lay on top of his as he chose to speak next “We d'cided... a whil' ago now, 's soon 's we d'cided ta stick togeth'r... tha' things w'rn't ok. An aft'r Ishval? We d'cided to do somethin' 'bout it.”

Edwina huffed as she let a smile form on her face “No one pays attention to performers, nor the people who work in an establishment such as this. There is a reason “actor” and “prostitute” used to be synonyms back in the day. Which...” she trailed off, once again unsure of how to formulate things “It wasn't like we set out to do it, but gradually we formed a network. Coming up with codes is easy when you work in a place like this, and those who cannot stomach living here go to places there are fewer people. Less soldiers. So, we're very spread out... so...”

She looked him in the eye once more “You can take the high road while we take the low. We can help each other in ways you might not expect. We have many places where you can hide yourself or other people, we have many ways of making sure people are who they say they are or can be trusted. And, should you ever be trapped by those above you, we can help you from the outside, where no one looks. No one high up cares about us, only the Ishval veterans who feel like you do keep coming back for the real things. And-” she cut off, glancing at the ravenette to her left “after Leo's little episode, we found some of our people who could help. So, seeing as the Military's Psychologists aren't trustworthy... should you or yours need a therapist,” she said, looking at him in a way that told him that she thought he needed said therapist even if he denied it “we've got you covered.”

Roy clenched his hands together as his mind whirred around what he'd been told and what had been implied “What exactly are you hoping to achieve?”

He needed to know.

Edwina straightened her posture once again, leaning against the back of the couch, Marcus had moved his hand away once she didn't need the support anymore “We have some people in the military, not something we encouraged but, well, it happened. Your ambition isn't exactly a secret. I told you already, we know what kind of person you are. And if you were to succeed... it could only mean good things. For everyone.”

That didn't- “You know what I did-” he snapped.

“And we know how you feel about what you did!” Edwina snapped right back.

Roy glanced at Jim, whose brows were furrowed even as he was looking away. Of course. The man could feel everything Roy kept behind his public masks. It would be impossible to hide from him. But-

“Feeling guilty does not absolve me.”

“Perhaps not. But it's a start. The only thing you can do is redeem yourself through your actions. It is a debt you will be paying for the rest of your life. Death would not absolve you either. Dying is easy, young man, living is harder.”

This woman.

Roy chuckled “A partnership, then?”

Edwina grinned, stretching her hand over to him “A partnership, Roy Mustang.” she said as they shook hands.