Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Perhaps dreams aren’t such great things after all.”

    -ElderBug, Hollow Knight (2017)

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   The streets of the East always drew Ed.

   It didn’t matter what he did to prevent it. He could feel himself walking a familiar path towards Eastern Command the moment he set foot on the sidewalk. He could picture his brother next to him, lecturing him already to be nice and to not stir up anything. He could feel the need to grumble about yet another report, and/or having to explain to his Commanding Officer why he had wreaked another building or statue of historical value.

   He would suppress it and suppress it, but to no avail.

   The heartache that came with indulging in his ongoing misery would prevail regardless of any token of positivity thrown his way.

   A long, drawn out sigh—which was so common place with Edward at this point that it was welcomed—escaped his lips as Edward gazed at the Military building, a beacon of light in the darkness of the East at 3 am. He took a moment to observe it a little longer, his far away gaze lost in wishful thoughts, before taking a left to head where he had long since made his home.

   Edward had liked to believe he’d long since grown used to what his life was. He had long since gotten used to lying through his teeth, through holding his tongue. He had long since grown accustomed to familiar faces just out of reach, to the depression that grew stronger with every passing word, with every small memory.

   He considered if it was worth it, so many times. It had been months since he had returned, and at least half a year since his disappearance before Edward had returned to a world that no longer remembered him. He remembered dreaming of coming back, of seeing everyone again. Finding that transmutation on the floor was pure coincidence, he knew. Being able to activate it was pure luck as well, he was sure.

   For whatever reason, Truth brought him back. Be it necessity, be it fate, be it simply to torture him further, Edward Elric was back in Amestris. He remembered the deity vividly, as it echoed through his steps in the dark streets.

   “You may go back, but at a cost. You will remember them, but they won’t remember you.” Truth stated, as if he was simply listing a price at the market place.

   “What do you mean?! Why would I every make that deal, du stichelst?!” Edward exclaimed, struggling against the hands that  held him in place as the Truth chuckled. (Roughly Translates: you prick)

   “You said you wanted to go home. It’s clear you don’t respond to physical pain, and keep coming back here, so let’s experiment with psychological warfare, hmm? It’s either go back and be drafted, or go home and try and get them to remember you. Would you kill, Edward Elric, just because you can’t bare the thought of everyone you loved leaving you?” Truth said, leaning forward with a vicious grin.

   Edward knew he couldn’t kill anyone else. Not after Greed. Not after all the other innocents he dragged into his mess. In his world or otherwise, he simply couldn’t kill anyone. There were two different Hell’s to choose, and he went for the one he knew.

   In the end, that’s all there was to it.

   So here he was. Older, Depressed, tired beyond belief, and wallowing in his misery as the world moved farther and farther away from his by the day, but with mostly clean hands. Equivalent Exchange was a dick.

   He wasn’t even paying attention to where he was going until he knocked into an imposing figure. He fell hard, his smaller stature getting the better of him as he hit concrete. He shook his head, clearing dark spots as he muttered, “Truth’s ass, that hurt..”

   “Oh, I apologize for running into you sir! I’m afraid I didn’t see you.” A familiar, booming voice said as he was literally lifted off the ground and set back on his feet. Armstrong hadn’t changed much in the passing years, maintaining the same large figure and righteous atmosphere. He was in uniform, clearly in a rush for some crime scene. It had a few new stripes and stars, indicating he was a Colonel now. Must’ve been a few promotions since the Fuhrer died, Ed presumed. Not that he was keeping track.

   (‘Mustang is Brigadier General, who the hell made that choice? Lazy Colonel can only slack off more.’ Ed thought after searching for what happened to everyone.)

   “You seem familiar. Have we met?” Armstrong mused, leaning down to peer into Ed’s face. Ed felt a spark of hope shine, for just a moment, before remembering the toll he paid as the man straightened up and stated, “I apologize again but I really must be going. You stay out of trouble, young man!”

   With that, he ran off, turning the corner. He remained oblivious to the hand stretched out towards him half heartedly, Ed caught himself a few moments after he left, withdrawing his hand. He couldn’t believe himself, he was seeking comfort from ARMSTRONG, of all people!

   “God, I really am far gone...” The 17 year old muttered, shoving his hand back in his pocket roughly and forcing himself to stride the opposite way, aware of the growing rift slowly cutting him off from the little hope he had left.

——————————————————————

    A little ways away, Alex could barely focus on the crime scene in front of him.

   He felt as if something significant just happened, something was fixed, something proven. He felt as if he needed to tell everyone, needed to talk about it, needed to report it, to show it to the world. The persistence of the feeling just wouldn’t go away, he couldn’t think.

   Something about the boy he ran into, with golden hair and eyes that shone with a sort of wisdom that eyes like that shouldn’t have been able to hold, especially on that young of a face.

   Something about the look in his eyes, the flash of hope only to be doused by a sort of despair.

   Alex knew it was completely irrational, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that boy had some sort of significance, to him and to many around him.

   He’d have to keep an eye out for him.

Chapter Text

“All these memories, they will fade away like tears in the rain”.

   -Hollow Knight (2017)

———————————————————————

   Brigadier General Roy Mustang.

   Quite the title, he must say. He worked his ass off for it, what with the catching a corrupt Fuhrer and helping start the country on the road to democracy. For the most part, the man is proud of himself.

   But then there’s the stranger bits. The Flame Alchemist considered himself a very perceptive and self aware man, so he had no idea how it had escaped his mind the details of how he found out the Fuhrer was harboring ill-will to everyone in the country.

   Portions of his memory have been lost, likely due to time, but Mustang couldn’t help but feel a constant sense of forgetting someone. He couldn’t put his finger on it, it was as if he’d forgotten an old friend. He knew it was a someone he was forgetting, as that’s the only real way the gaps made sense, but nothing about the person ever came to mind. Not even a face.

   Attached to that, he remembered what he suspected was a name, or phrase. Though he couldn’t imagine anyone with a name like “Fullmetal.” He suspected it was a code name of sorts, perhaps military. When he searched through the records though, no name matching that came up. He had gone to a doctor to test for amnesia, but they found nothing unusual. He asked his team if they were familiar with the name, to which they all replied negative. He wracked his brain, trying to find more, but nothing, not a single kernel of information resurfaced.

   Mustang knew he was hyper-fixating on this, but he couldn’t get the damn conundrum out of his head. All he knew was, without this “Fullmetal,” many dots are left unconnected. Too many for the man’s liking.

   Mustang sighed for the umpteenth time. He had turned the mystery over in his brain again and again, he doubted he’d find anything new or noteworthy in his clearly limited information span. Besides, he had paperwork to file on the new serial killer, because apparently there was a new one every week. He was awaiting Armstrong’s report, as the new Colonel had been sent to deal with the field reports and things of that sort. As if on que, the large man fumbled in, greeting his teammates and saluting to Mustang accordingly.

   “At ease.” Mustang commanded exhaustedly. “I’m too tired for formalities today.”

   Hawkeye sent him a pointed look at that comment. Whatever. Armstrong and him knew eachother fairly well, it didn’t matter. Armstrong gave his report, but with a few noteworthy differences. He lacked his usual gusto, seeming distracted and his report was sloppier then normal. Mustang, preparing himself for some over-dramatic serenade or something of that nature, said, “You seem distracted, Armstrong. What’s on your mind?”

   “With all due respect, it isn’t of much importance to military matters, sir.” Armstrong said uncertainly.

   “Tell me as a friend then. Distracted minds often lead to lack of mental perception, as I’m sure you are aware.” Mustang said, smoothly covering up his worry for his friend. Armstrong and him might not be all that buddy-buddy, but he was worried about him. Hopefully the man would see past his bluntness.

   “It’s just, on the way to the crime scene, I bumped into someone who seemed familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it, unfortunately. It’s strange, but I swear I know him, I just don’t know how exactly.” Armstrong said, sighing and looking rather tired himself. “It’s as though he’s someone of importance, but I’m not sure how.”

   Mustang’s eyes narrowed at this. Could this person be related to his current mystery? Armstrong did participate in taking down the old Fuhrer, so it did at least seem possible. Mustang didn’t believe in coincidence anyways.

   “Did you get a name?” He inquired, tilting his head slightly to the side.

   “No sir. He was a young man though, a little shorter than average. Long blonde hair, amber eyes, a very unusual intelligence in his eyes for his age. Very strange characteristics.” Armstrong replied.

   “We’ll keep an eye out. You’re usually right when it comes to these things. Anyhoo, we will be moving back to the East for a period of time, at Fuhrer Grumann’s request. The serial killer supposedly has had the most activity there, and they are in need of manpower. So, we’re on the chopping block. You are to accompany us. Be ready by 6:30.” Mustang said, dismissing Armstrong accordingly. The man saluted and left.

   “Does this have to do with your distractedness as of late, Brigadier?” Hawkeye said, eyeing the man as he returned to half-heartedly doing his paperwork.

   “If you are referring to our mystery person, yes. Can’t let anything get past you, huh?” Mustang replied, a small smile gracing his lips.

   “It would be unwise to attempt to get anything past me, as you are well aware sir.” Hawkeye replied, professionally as always.

   Mustang groaned. ‘Why can’t that women loosen up?!’

   Almost as if hearing his thoughts, the suspicious click of safety being taken off a gun. He masked a gulp, returning to his paperwork with diligence as to avoid the wrath of Riza Hawkeye.

——————————————————————

   Ed’s apartment wasn’t very furnished.

   In all honesty, Ed was more concerned about having a roof over his head then anything else, and a bed to sleep in. The room, for the most part, lacked anything truly personal, mainly due to Ed’s minimalistic tendencies, and the fact that he can fit most anything into his dark leather suitcase, due to traveling most of his life. Ed rarely spent that much time there, and today was no exception. He had woken up, gotten dressed, and headed out for some food. He poured over newspapers to find odd jobs, then would busy himself with that or wondering around the city.

   It was funny, really, how little he spent in the city itself before everything really went south. He had grown fond of many small businesses, and the interactions he had with them were really the only connections he had left. They were kind, but they weren’t what he really needed. What he needed was out of reach to him, for the most part, without damaging his pride and his public outlook. Ed hadn’t so much as considered returning to Resembool and finding Al and Winry and Pinako. He hadn’t found the right way to phrase his current predicament without sounding literally insane.

   He’d find a way, he knew, but he needed to find the right words. And Edward could never seem to find the right words in any situation, despite being a prodigy. Al was always better at that. God he missed him.

   Ed shook off that thought. ‘Not now. Can’t have a mental breakdown in the middle of the street.”

   The day passed on as normal, as Ed finished the odd jobs, greeted some people he knew and held up short and uneventful conversations, and before he knew it, it was 7:00 pm. The sun was setting, and he found himself walking his usual route home.

   “Another day, another dollar.” He muttered sarcastically to himself. Existence was boring. Equivalent Exchange was still a dick. What is he even doing. All these things encircled his mind. It wasn’t until a sharp flash of alchemy caught his eye and a scruffy thief running with a purse in hand darted past him.

   “Just as I thought Truth was going soft.” Ed said, smirking as he began to chase the man down, running though the streets and causing “slight” property damage.

   As Ed was running, he failed to realize the military car racing towards him.

   And that’s when things got really interesting.

Chapter Text

“Precept Four: 'Forget Your Past'. The past is painful, and thinking about your past can only bring you misery. Think about something else instead, such as the future, or some food.”

   -Zote the Mighty, Hollow Knight (2017)

——————————————————————

   Mustang is barely able to swerve out of the way of the kid.

   His visual perception was clearly failing him today, as he didn’t see the damn kid coming while driving. It hadn’t been very busy in the streets of the East, so that was a part of it, but he still couldn’t help but groan internally at his mistake.

   What was it he was lecturing Armstrong about again? “Distracted minds often lead to lack of mental perception,” his own words. Way to go, Mustang.

   Had it not been for the situation at hand, he likely would’ve thought further on that, except for the fact that maybe his swerve hadn’t been as clean as he’d hoped.

   He jumped out of the car, Hawkeye, Armstrong, and the rest of the team hot on his heels towards the kid. The small kid had been knocked over completely, cradling his leg in a strange manner, holding his foot yet not seeming hurt at all.

   “Are you hurt?” Hawkeye demanded, kneeling down to the kid in question. The teens eyes seemed to flash in recognition, but Mustang was sure he must’ve been mistaken, as they had never met before, and the fact that the weird look disappeared as quickly as it came, wiping the kids face blank.

   “Nah, you caught my leg though.” The kid said seemingly nonchalantly, confusing the team to give extremely confused and concerned looks.

   The blonde kid in question sighed in irritation and lifted his pant leg to reveal Automail, which caused them to sigh in relief. Mustang, glad to see the kid was ok but not about to spare him the lecture, said sternly, “Alright where are your parents. It’s clear they either haven’t taught you to look both ways before crossing the street. Either that, or you were just being stupid.”

   Hawkeye gave Mustang a pointed look, which he ignored completely, fully aware the Lieutenant would scold him later for his apathy towards the kids feelings and situation. What he said did manage to elicit a reaction from the teen in question, who promptly shot up and said, “I’m not stupid, bastard, I was in a bit of a hurry. And good luck finding my parents, one’s dead and the other is who knows where, so why don’t you shove off.”

   “Look kid, you could’ve gotten hurt. What exactly happened?” Breda said, taking over for Mustang as Hawkeye attempted to calm the irrational rage that was currently overtaking the man.

   “I was chasing some thief or whatever when your car barreled into me. What of it? He got away now, so there’s no point in having this conversation anyways.” The blonde grumbled, putting his hands on his hips.

   “You said your parents are gone? How are you getting by? You look like you’re 14, 15 maybe—“

   “I’M 17 JACKASS!”

   “Jeez, temper- Well anyways kid, what’s your name?” Havoc said, attempting to make some semblance of peace in the conversation.

   “Edward Elric. What’s it to you, who are you?” The kid said, his eyes darting away for half a second after his question. Mustang, who was calmer and watching the conversation, noted the general avoidance of eye contact with suspicion.

   “Jean Havoc. Me and the team is under Brigadier General Roy Mustang, who’s right behind me.”

   “Oh, Flame Alchemist, huh? Who the hell made his Brigadier General when he can’t seem to drive for shit?” Edward said, returning Mustangs seething glare with one of his own. This was going to become a feral cat fight if the insults kept flying, that was clear.

   “I’d watch your tone. You’re talking to a Military Official, you know.” Mustang said with underlying irritation at having to play nice.

   “Pshhh, please. You look like the white bread of military men, don’t go lecturing me. Anyways, I’ve got shit to do, so try not to plough into any more people on your way to some stuffy Military gala, will ya?” Edward said, walking away before any of the team could stop him.

   It had taken a second for any of his men to truly process what happened, none of them knowing exactly what to do from there. Mustang found himself with more questions than answers, mainly about why Edward Elric was strangely familiar, and why the bickering and belittling came so easily to him, as if he had known him all along. Moreover, the strange title Fullmetal fit every aspect of the kid when he considered it, despite not being made entirely out of metal. The more he considered it, the more that the limited dots began to connect.

   It was almost entirely impossible, and purely hypothetical in the mind of Roy Mustang, but he might’ve found who he’d been searching for.

   “Should we go after him?” Furey asked, glancing back at his commanding officer.

   “...No.” Mustang decided, regaining his authoritative tone. “Leave him for now. We’ve got his name, that’s all that matters for the moment. I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

   The men slowly piled back into the car, uncertain curiosity plaguing most of its occupants. Mustang gripped the steering wheel, starting the engine, unaware of the very teen he was curious about having a depressive episode in a nearby alleyway.

Chapter Text

“ Precept Twenty-Eight: 'Don't Peer Into the Darkness'. If you peer into the darkness and can't see anything for too long, your mind will start to linger over old memories. Memories are to be avoided, as per Precept Four.”

            -Zote the Mighty, Hollow Knight (2017)

——————————————————————

   Ed didn’t know what made him crack.

   The fact that it fully solidified that Truth was right, maybe. The feeling of knowing the only person he could really fall back on didn’t even know his name. Maybe it was just everything colliding into one giant mess of emotions and longing. In all honesty, Ed suspected something like that would happen at some point. He didn’t break down often, he never had time.

   Now he had all the time in the world.

   He collapsed in the alleyway, numbly aware his automail was damaged and he needed to get someone to fix it. That didn’t matter at that moment though. What mattered then was everything, and nothing. The fact that he was really, truly dead to the world, and the fact he couldn’t seem to fix it.

   Ed was a fighter. He couldn’t remake all those memories, bring back all that time. His skill set didn’t revolve around building relationships. If anything, it was the pure opposite of that.

   He didn’t cry. He refused to, he didn’t need or want to. But he did just sit there, a mix of a sigh and a sob causing him to shutter. He must’ve looked pathetic. Like a lost kid, abandoned by everyone. It was ironic, really. In all the time he had been back, he realized his fear, his one true fear. Abandonment, even from an early age, was imminent, apparently.

   He didn’t know how long he sat there.

   He found himself walking back to his apartment who knows how long later, his numb stupor dissolving slightly. The walk passed by quicker then he could blink, his head spinning with the jumble of thoughts. He didn’t find it in him to dwell on it though. He didn’t have the energy.

   That night wasn’t met with much sleep.

——————

   Mustang got home late.

   His home had been located in the East, even after his transfer to Central Command after being promoted. It was a bit of a ways, but he didn’t mind much. The sights of the East were favorable compared to Central, and he was closer to Madame Christmas there.

   It did give him time to contemplate things a little deeper though.

   He had come to realize that he was missing not one, but two people from his memory. The kid, who he had taken to referring to as “Fullmetal,” was only part of it. There was someone more, he couldn’t be more sure of it now. But that only really brought more questions. How did a kid, who looked like he was 14, become part of a military coup? And how did this other person fit in? Questions upon questions only kept coming.

   He decided that the only one who could really answer was the kid himself. So he did some sleuthing.

   More and more pieces of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit had become a part of it. He winced at the reminder of his best friends death in his mind, all too aware that this would probably be easier if he was still around. His death never quite made sense to Roy either. He knew at least that Hughes had discovered the Fuhrer’s ploy, but the circumstances of why he even figured it out were a mystery. Moreover, the mysterious case of Nina Tucker. Who discovered what her father was doing? Another hole, another supposed dead end.

   The more he thought about it, the more the kid made sense in all of it. If he was part of the military (which god he hopes not,) then he would’ve gone on a lot of missions. Maybe he sent him to investigate Tucker, or had been referred to him for some reason. There had to be a reason for him being sent to Tucker, but he was left scratching his head on that one.

   He had deduced the kids general area, that is assuming that when he ran him over (partially ran him over, he wondered numbly how the kid was faring,) he was near home, and decided that before work, he would patrol around to see if he could find the kid in some nearby shops or something.

   He only hoped that he wouldn’t sound crazy when he explained his predicament.

————————————————

   Today’s meaningless and time consuming job: Fixing a sign.

   Yeah, Edward wondered if his younger self could see him, how badly he would react. At least he could use his full alchemy to patch up his leg, albeit shabbily. He really should’ve been paying more attention to Winry when she was babbling on about the inner mechanics. At least it still worked. He was deliberately using circles though, making his work a bit more on the shabbier side, of only to be unnoticed by the military. He wasn’t ready, not to try and get everyone back.

   He wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

   Regardless, this sign wasn’t going to fix itself. Drawing the circle with cheap chalk, Ed let out a breath of air, clearing his mind of anything that wouldn’t be of use in that moment. It was nice, in all honesty, to just practice a bit. To take more time in his work. He never really dwelled much on it in his military time, mainly because in the heat of battle, details didn’t really matter, so long as it was functional. But now, he could enjoy the process more, he let himself sink into the wonders of alchemy he had grown to love as a kid...

   “An alchemist, huh? Makes sense then, why your leg is repaired.” A familiar baritone voice snapped him out of his stupor.

   Edwards eyes popped open. Things just got interesting.

Chapter Text

“Funny then, that such darkness gives me hope. Within it, I see the chance of change.

A difficult journey you would face, but a choice it can create.”

                                 -Hornet, Hollow Knight (2017)

——————————————————————

    Edward nearly fell over at the sight of Mustang.

    What in the world was Mustang, a guy who supposedly had no idea of his existence until less than 24 hours, not only be in front of him now, but actively seek out his existence? It made no sense!

    He must’ve been quiet for too long, because Mustang said, “Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble,” yet, Edward added in his mind, “I just needed to be sure you were all right. God knows the paperwork I would have to deal with if I hurt a civilian, a kid no less.”

   The response came before Ed could stop himself, “Can’t handle a bit of paperwork? And I’m not a kid so watch it.”

   Mustang only smirked. “You’ve got spunk.” He held out his hand out as Ed slid down the ladder, noting the slight height difference between them. You’d think he’d have finally got to Mustangs height by now.

   He hesitantly took Mustangs hand. “Edward Elric.” He figured hiding his real name was pointless, since Mustang already didn’t remember him. Mustang’s handshake was as firm as ever, so Ed was sure to match that strength.

    “Brigadier General Roy Mustang. You likely know me as the flame alchemist.” Mustang said, withdrawing his hand.

   “Flame, huh? Always did wonder how that worked.” That wasn’t a lie. Ed was interested in decoding Mustangs notes, for a little anyways. It was a strict look from Hawkeye and the sound of safety going off that deterred him from actually doing it though.

   “That’ll have to remain a mystery to you. However, I am interested in your alchemical abilities-“

    “Woah woah woah, are you trying to recruit me?” He interrupted, holding his hands up in front of his chest. “Cause that’ll be a hard no, thanks.”

   “No no, that’s not the point.” Mustang said. “If I wanted to recruit a kid-“ Ed nearly interrupted with that, “-I’d need to see something really impressive to even consider. No, I’d like to ask you something. Care for a cup of coffee?” Mustang gestured towards the cafe he was fixing the sign for.

   Edward’s gaze hardened. Should he trust Mustang? He had been helpful to him, but that was before. Now, to him, he was some random civilian. Ed hated to admit it, but he had absolutely no clue what Mustang wanted from him.

   But when was he going to get another chance like this? A link to his past was standing right in front of him. If he could get even one person to remember, to understand, to know about everything, this was the opportunity. He’d never get another chance.

   (Somewhere, Truth grinned. Finally, things were starting to get resolved.)

    Ed decided to take a risk.

   “Sure, I’ll talk.”

   (Truth began to laugh)

——————

   Alphonse Elric lived a simple life. He could preform alchemy to help Winry and Granny Pinako. He was practically family.

   If you forgot that he had no blood relation to them and the fact that both of his parents were dead.

   If you were to ask anyone in the town of Resembool, they’d say Al appeared out of nowhere after 2 or 3 years of traveling… somewhere. He grew up in the town, left without a trace, then found himself back with no memory of the years prior.

   Many concluded it was amnesia. Some speculated Alphonse was hiding something. Some whispered that whatever happened in those years could’ve been so horrible, so traumatizing, that he blocked it out.

   Many looked at him with pity. He only had Winry and Pinako to turn to.

   Alphonse knew he was an enigma to everyone in town. He knew that they stared. He payed no mind. He was busy enough trying to answer his own questions, let alone their questions.

   Who burned down the old family home? Why could he transmute without a circle? Why did it feel like he was missing something, some important piece of his life, or even someone?

   Alphonse shrugged off those questions, just like he always did. He’d been dwelling on it for so long, he doubted he’d find the answers now.

   But that quiet sadness that always haunted him never left.

   Alphonse kept busy anyways. What’s there to do but continue forward? He couldn’t just sit around. He needed to keep moving. At first, he thought his resolve stemmed solely from wanting to survive to the next day, but as the days passed him by, he couldn’t help but feel that wasn’t the case.

   Just who was he waiting for?

Chapter Text

"Precept Fifty-One: 'Nothing is Harmless'. Given the chance, everything in this world will hurt you. Friends, foes, monsters, uneven paths. Be suspicious of them all. ”

                         -Zote, Hollow Knight (2017)

——————————————————————

   The cafe Mustang had led him in was thankfully quiet. The sage greens and dark brown flooring contributed to the overall plant aesthetic of the place, soft piano music playing in the background as murmured chatter from the few patrons blended with the sounds of coffee brewing and the register clicking. He didn’t take it as a place Mustang would hang around. Seemed like the staff knew him though, as they greeted him warmly and led them to a booth without prompt. He settled opposite of the table to Mustang, finding himself fidgeting as Mustang ordered for them.

   He had thought about how to convince someone from his past that he knew them without sounding crazy. The more he thought about it, the worse it sounded. He didn’t want to drive anyone away, not this time. He didn’t like the thought of someone he knew thinking he was a creep. But he definitely didn’t want to loose this chance, not when he had a link to his old life. God knows he hasn’t had a real conversation with anyone since coming back.

   He wondered if it was best to just start over. Pretend Mustang was just as much of a stranger to him as he was to the Co- General. Maybe, with time, he could slowly get back to the point they were at. Maybe they could even be friends again. (Was that what they were? Friends? He figured that would be the closest term at this point.)

  He shook off that thought. There was no way that would work. Mustang had a reason to keep him around before, a reason to know him. Now he wasn’t tethered to Ed, so he was free to completely forget about him. He had to find a way to stick around without looking suspicious - or, god forbid with his pride - clingy. He didn’t wanna look like some dumb 17 year old. Plus, he didn’t exactly make the best first impression.

    Mustang turned to him, leaning his arms on the dark stained table.

   “You look tense.” He observed, his dark eyes piercing, but not giving away any clear emotion. Ed startled, snapping out of his thoughts. Mustang smirked slightly, “Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble. If you were, you’d already be on your way to the police station, being questioned.”

   Ed let out a slightly nervous laugh at that, saying, “I figured that much. So… why did you want to talk?”

    “Well, I mainly came to make sure you didn’t sustain any long term damage from being hit, but clearly you’re still on your feet. If there’s any remaining damage, I’m willing to cover it.” He said, leaning back as two cups of coffee were placed in front of them. The steam rising off the cup was satisfyingly warm, definitely looking better than the terrible coffee his thrifted coffee machine at home could make.

   “Nah, it’s fine. There are some pretty good mechanics around here that can always check me out. My main mechanic is out at the moment-” a lie of course, Winry didn’t even know him “-but i’m getting by. It was more my fault than yours anyways.”

   “I see. Well if that changes, let me know. Now, down to the matter at hand.” Mustang took a sip of coffee, the clink of ceramic hitting the table after he set it down seeming so… real. Ed never thought he’d ever see Mustang again, let alone at ease and sitting in front of him having coffee.

   “I came to ask you something. A favor, really.” Mustang said, refocusing on Ed. “Two things. And don’t worry, you’ll be given payment in return.”

   “… okay. Why me?” Ed asked, leaning forward and resting his chin on his knuckles.

   “Multiple reasons. I know you’re taking odd jobs here and there anyways, so I figured you were somewhat available. Your alchemy knowledge may come in handy for this as well. You seem to be able to charge into situations easily without doubting yourself, and I’m gathering you’re quick on your feet, based on your reflexes.” Mustang said, matching his stance. “Am I wrong?”

    “Damn. You’re observant.” Ed replied.

    “I have to be. There are two persons of interest that I’d like help finding. Neither of them are related, and the first one is top priority.” Ed nodded. It was just like getting a mission brief. He had to admit, it was nice having a chance to go out in the field again. “The first one is a criminal known in this area. We suspect they’re using alchemy of some sort on their victims, and I’d like you to keep a lookout for any suspicious activity in the area.”

   “Why are you telling this to a citizen, huh? Shouldn’t you be patrolling out here with your military buddies?” Ed questioned.

   “Simply put, it’s been difficult for us to draw them out, especially in full uniform. Having someone unsuspecting who knows the people around this area and with good knowledge of alchemy could give us the upper hand. Not only that-“ Mustang smirked, “-It could get me a nice promotion.”

    “I see. Working your way up the ladder, huh?” Ed smirked himself, raising an eyebrow.

    “You could say that. The second person is more of a personal matter to me… tell me, does the word Fullmetal mean anything to you?”

   Time seemed to freeze.

   Ed sat shocked. Was he… remembering? Or did he just know the name? He hadn’t heard Fullmetal in a long time. Especially from him.

   And god, it hurt. It really did.

   Because he didn’t remember. And Ed only had one chance to try and get him to remember.

   Goddamnit, Ed was tired of pretending. Mustang was the closest thing to a parent he’d had for a while. He kept him straight when he screwed up, he kept him out of trouble with the higher ups, hell, he even saved his life a few times.

   Now was his chance. Now could be the only chance.

    “Elric?”

    He snapped out of it.

   “Are you okay?”

   He wanted to, but…

   “Yeah! Yeah, sorry it’s just- uh no, I haven’t, but I can keep an eye out for you though?”

   … he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

   Mustang sat back with a sigh. “Okay. Thank you for that. That person may be able to answer some questions for me.”

   God, why didn’t he say it? The opportunity was right in front of him! And he threw it away!

   “You’ll get 300 cenz pay if you can locate any information about either of those people. 300 cenz each, to be clear. If you see anything, here’s my number.” Mustang said, unaware of his inner panic, passing a note with a number scrawled on the paper. “I thank you again for this. It’s important to me that both of these get done.”

   “Yeah, no problem. I was looking for something to do anyways…” Ed managed to choke out, ignoring his impulses to tell Mustang everything.

   Because whether he liked it or not, when Mustang remembered, he’d probably want nothing to do with him anyways. He caused so much trouble, he got his brothers body back already anyways, and he wasn’t useful to Mustang at this point. Telling him and looking down right crazy wasn’t worth it.

   The conversation stagnated as Mustang paid the bill, the man standing up and stretching before grabbing his coat. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he said, holding out his hand.

   Ed took it, making sure to keep his grip firm to match Mustang. The man nodded his head, and exited the cafe. Ed slumped down with a sigh.

   He still had time. He still had a link. He’d tell Mustang just… not now. It wasn’t the right time.

    (Somewhere, Truth frowned. Seems this won’t be so easy after all.)

Chapter Text

“Precept Eight: 'Travel Alone'. You can rely on nobody, and nobody will always be loyal. Therefore, nobody should be your constant companion.”

                                      Hollow Knight, 2017

—————————————————————————

   Ed’s morning’s had routine.

   That’s one of the reasons he hadn’t gone completely insane yet. He needed something to keep him grounded, if all else felt like it was falling apart. No matter what he faced from the day ahead, the world would keep moving, and so would he. So he did his best to keep things simple.

   Starting off: waking up. Ed’s eyes opened blearily that morning as he sat up, choosing not to dwell on any particular inner demons today. He rubbed his eyes, then swung his feet on the cold wooden floor. As much as he would like carpet, his dingy apartment didn’t come with one, and he didn’t have much motivation to change it. He thought by now he’d be with his family and friends again, after all. No reason to put any resources or personal touches on this place. Wishful thinking.

   He padded towards the bathroom, adjusting his plain black shirt as he opened the door, and looked at himself in the mirror.

   This particular day was different for many reasons. The first one was the spark of hope he’d seen in his eyes, reflecting back at him. He hadn’t seen that in a long time. Not since Germany. No, not since before Germany. There wasn’t any real contentment there, not without Alphonse, even if there were small things to make him smile. Now he had a chance. And he’s one step closer to taking it.

   After washing up, he made his way towards the coffee maker, getting it started and sitting down, waiting quietly. He supposed one benefit to this lifestyle was it was a lot slower. Gave him a lot less headaches, and injuries for that matter. Definitely wasn’t worth the existential dread though. He’d take most anything over that at that point. Getting really tired of being melodramatic all the time. At least this morning was a bit better than most.

   However, the second thing that was different this morning came quick, in the form of a knock on the door.

   Ed tensed up. He hadn’t made any friends close enough to come over. As for enemies, well, he didn’t think he’d pissed anyone off lately, but he wasn’t really good at keeping track of that. Who could that be? He hesitantly got up, mentally preparing for the worst as he took a deep breath, then swung open the door to reveal…

   … a large envelope on his doorstep.

   He keenly picked up the sound of footsteps running off. Most likely Breda. Damn that Mustang. How did he already find out where he lived? Nosey bastard. Can’t be normal about anything.

   He picked up the envelope and tossed it on the small coffee table, grabbing his cup of coffee and sitting down, leaning forward and brushing his hands against the manilla folder.

   Ed didn’t think of himself as sentimental, especially not towards the military, but he felt a sudden wave of nostalgia. Here he was, a mission from the bastard Colonel, ready to go off on another wild chase before going off to search for the stone. He felt his breath catch as he sat, frozen for that half a second, taking it all in.

   He may not be home, but goddamnit he had a chance. Determination welled up in him. He finally had a chance.

   With that in mind, he got to reading.

—————————————————————————

[CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT - ANY RANK LOWER THAN MAJOR MAY NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE BE GIVEN THIS DOCUMENT]

NAME: unknown, dubbed the “Heeds Snatcher.”

LOCATION OF INCIDENTS: East City, Amesteris. Most likely around the area of Heeds County, particularly in Caneytown.

MOTIVES: unknown; mainly targets local alchemists, 9 missing so far, 5 found dead. All alchemists. All victims found strangled, some with missing limbs. Human Transmutation may be involved.

MISSING PERSON(S): Lydia Jekyll, Verrie Cass, Herold James, Petunia Myers, Rue Bell, Taylor Peterson, Anita Diken, Mortimer Brown, Alphie Catlin-David, Mohamed Aljezeer

FOUND DEAD: Elizabeth Claire-King, George Downie, Mia Johg, Homer Piatza

—————————————————————————

   Ed put the document down, a small shake in his hands. The idea of human transmutation being involved with a serial killer case… god, even after all that he’d been through, he still shuddered at it. And even worse, if they’d been involving innocent people…

   Ed put everything back in the folder and stood up, a new determination flowing through him.

   It was time to investigate. He swung his dark brown coat over his shoulders and pulled open the door.

—————————————————————————

   Alphonse’s room looked so bare without anything really in it.

   Everything he deemed necessary he’d taken, but even with the few wall decorations, and small things here and there, it was still unbearably empty.

   Not that it ever felt full anyways. Not without whoever he was waiting for.

   “Do you really have to leave?” Winry asked, leaning in the doorway. Alphonse paused from his packing, casting a glance over at her. She was fiddling with her necklace, but trying to look serious. Alphonse sighed. She was worried.

   “I know you don’t like it, but I can’t stay here forever.” Alphonse said with a reassuring smile, hoping it would placate her. It clearly didn’t, as she only looked more nervous. “Look Win, I’m not the same amnesiac kid that you found wandering around. I can’t just sit around Resembool waiting.”

   “Well why can’t I go with you? The city is big, at least I’ve been there once, as far as we remember.” Winry protested, coming to join him as he sat on the bed with a sigh.

   “Winry, I know it’s hard to understand but…” Alphonse trailed off, trying to find the best way to explain. Winry gave him a piercing look, as if trying to decide exactly what he was thinking.

   “Y’know, I’ve never done anything on my own.” Al started off. “Not since losing my memory and whoever I’m waiting for.”

   “We’re waiting for. I feel it too.” Winry said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

   “I know. It’s just… I want to do something with my life. And I think if I do, I may get closer to finding them. They’re clearly not here after all. Not to mention, I want to take care of people, and you all too. I want to give back for all you guys have done for me.” Alphonse explained, fiddling with his flannel shirt buttons.

   “This seems so sudden though. I mean, how much of this have you thought through? You brought it up only 3 days ago.” Winry said, casting him a worried look.

   “I already have a place. It’s pretty close to the city too. Heed’s County, I think it’s around.” Al said. “The rent’s pretty cheap too. Guess I got lucky.”

   “That doesn’t make me feel any better. What if the place isn’t in good condition? Not to mention you don’t have a job.” Winry said, giving him another pointed look.

   “The condition can always be delt with later if it’s that bad, I’m not really picky. I’m gonna be doing some odd jobs around town until I find something stable too. Trust me, I’ve thought it all out. I’ve been studying bio-alchemy and medicine for a while, I may even go and see if any collages offer it. I know what I’m doing. I just have to do it.” Alphonse responded.

   “Why didn’t you say anything sooner though? You clearly have been thinking about this for months. Why keep it a secret Alphonse?” Winry accused, hopping off of the bed and standing in front of him, hands on her hips.

   Alphonse laughed nervously, “So that’s what’s really bothering you, huh?” He leaned on his elbows, his eyes softening. “I didn’t want to worry you, if I’m honest. I know how anxious you get about this stuff. But I’ll be okay Winry, really! I’m sorry I kept it a secret from you.”

   Winry huffed, going to sit with him again. “I don’t forgive you yet. But at least let me help a little next time. You two always have me worried.”

   “You two?” Alphonse asked in confusion.

   “Hm? Oh uh… I actually don’t know why I said that. Feels like I’ve said it all the time, you know?” Winry said, a confused look coming on her face.

   “It’s does… maybe whoever it is also causes you a major headache.” Alphonse joked, punching her lightly on the shoulder.

   “Oh I know that for sure. That’s why I have to find them too.” Winry said matter-of-factly, standing up again. “Speaking of, don’t think this is goodbye. I’m going to visit you at the end of the week and after that too. You’re gonna be visiting us too, you hear me? No more disappearing on us.”

   Alphonse grinned, standing and taking her hand. “I would never do that, of course you can visit. You take care of Granny the best you can, okay? You’ve got customers to take care of in Rush Valley, so go worry about them. I’ll be fine.”

   Winry smiled, holding out her other hand with her pinky up. “Pinky promise?”

   Alphonse linked their pinky’s. “Pinky promise. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?”