Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been 912 days since the Fullmetal Alchemist went missing. 

The case had gone cold around day 478, however that didn’t stop Roy Mustang and his team from continuing their search. They tried to keep the ongoing investigation quiet, but everyone knew why they weren’t getting as much done as they used to. Everyone knew why Maes Hughes visited Eastern Command at least once a week. Everyone knew better than to question the additional constant presence of a young boy clad in armor. 

Some voiced their displeasure with the matter, making scathing remarks about how the team was “wasting time and resources on a lost cause.” A few offered support and assistance in finding the boy. The rest just watched Roy’s frayed team search with pity. 

The Fuhrer was aware of their continued investigation, and surprisingly approved. In his words, “The Fullmetal Alchemist is a valuable asset. It would be wasteful not to search for him.” Roy had barely kept himself from snapping back that Edward was a child , not an “asset,” not some tool for the military to use and dispose of. Riza had luckily made a hasty excuse for them to leave the conversation before Roy could light the man up. 

Day 912 started off like every other day before it, with Roy walking into his office sporting designer eyebags and downing a cup of coffee. It was scalding, but he ignored how it burned his tongue, determined not to waste any time today. He had some paperwork to finish before he could follow up on their current “lead” if it could even be called that. It was almost guaranteed to be another dead end, but they had to look into it regardless. 

Roy had been informed that Alphonse was staying with the Hughes family in Central for the moment. Maes was their best bet at finding any sort of leads, and was better at comforting the boy then any of the rest of them were. Roy had watched Al bounce back and forth from different homes throughout the two and a half years, unable to stay in one place while his brother was missing. He’d stayed at the Rockbell’s, the Curtis’s, and even Roy’s place for a short time. Everyone was trying to support Al as best as they could, but how could you comfort a boy who truly had nothing? No family, no home, no body. All the boy had left was the sliver of hope that his older brother was out there somewhere, because if he was dead, he would’ve taken Alphonse with him. 

It was a relief to know that as long as the blood seal on his brother’s armor continued to function, that meant Edward was still alive. A small relief, however, because Roy knew better than most that there were many things worse than death. 

When the phone rang around noon, he was expecting Maes’ tired, apologetic tone as he reported that there were no new leads. However, today was different. 

“Hey Roy, I hate to bother you with this but I need your help.”

As Roy headed up to Maes’ office, he found himself irritated. He’d been dragged all the way up to Central to track down some serial killer targeting the military. This was an important issue of course, but it was more time he wouldn’t be able to spend searching for Ed. He didn’t understand why they’d needed him specifically; surely they had enough men in Central for one murderer? 

“They’re an alchemist,” Maes explained. 

“You don’t have a single alchemist stationed here who could deal with this? What about Major Armstrong?” 

“He’s on an assignment in Dublith, and you were the closest one available,” he shrugged apologetically. “I tried to get them to assign someone else but some of the higher ups are unhappy with your ‘recent lack of productivity.’”

Roy scowled, irritated but not surprised. He wasn’t exactly popular within the military; not even the approval of the Fuhrer could change that. If anything, it likely tanked his popularity even further.

“I’m sure they’d be just as productive if they lost one of their men,” he grumbled.

Maes’ expression twisted. 

“We’re gonna find him, Roy,” he said gently.

“I know,” Roy replied, because they had to , there was no other alternative, “but what kind of state do you think we’ll find him in?”

To that, Maes had no answer. 

A small team accompanied Roy and Maes to the location of a man that the killer, who had been dubbed “The Phantom” was thought likely to strike next. He thought the name was pretty over the top, but he supposed it was accurate enough considering no one had ever seen more than a glimpse of this mysterious murderer. They had small teams with each of The Phantom’s potential next targets, Roy’s group being with the man considered most likely to be next on the chopping block due to the killer’s current killing pattern. 

Roy was hoping they found this person quickly so he could get this over with and get back to Eastern Command. He was getting impatient waiting around the corner for The Phantom to arrive.

“How do we know they’re even gonna show?” Roy whispered to Maes, who was leaning next to him against the side of the brick building.

“We don’t know for sure, but I have a feeling they will.” 

Roy gritted his teeth, fighting to keep himself from snapping at his friend. It wasn’t Maes’ fault he’d been dragged all the way to Central to hide in the shadows, hoping a killer would arrive. 

“Does the officer know he’s essentially being used as bait?” 

Maes frowned. “Yes. We have no intention of letting him get hurt, but he knows the risks. With you and our snipers, I’m sure we can apprehend The Phantom before they do too much damage.” 

“How will we know if it’s them? No one has even seen what this person looks like.”

“Trust me, you’ll know.”

As always, Maes was right. When a figure clad in black appeared so silently in front of their soldier that it sent a chill through his body, Roy knew it was their guy. He shot a ring of fire around The Phantom’s feet before they could get any closer, and stepped into the light.

“Put your hands up or we will open fire!” he shouted.

The figure’s shoulders moved as if they were sighing in exasperation. They placed their hands in the air, one gloved, the other steel, and turned. 

Nothing could have ever prepared Roy for the moment he saw the killer’s face. There was a black mask covering his mouth and nose, but his golden eyes were unmistakable. He froze on the spot, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. There was a moment that he doubted, thinking that maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, until he took in the gleaming metal arm, and the long, dirty hair with hints of golden-blonde peeking underneath the grime. His heart stuttered in his chest, unable to believe what he was seeing. 

“Ed?” He whispered the nickname like a prayer, pleading to every deity imaginable that the sunken eyed killer before him wasn’t the boy he’d lost, but knowing the truth. 

The boy’s reply somehow managed to cut deeper than anything else.

“Who the hell is Ed?”  

Chapter Text

Subject E14 had been hoping to get his assignment done in a timely manner today, but things didn’t typically work out as he planned.

He had been attempting to carry out a rather routine assasination mission when he’d been accosted by none other than the Flame Alchemist, Roy Mustang. He hadn’t been particularly perturbed by this; he was another target after all. If he did his job well, he could kill two birds with one stone. Or in this case, two soldiers with one metal arm. E14 hadn’t been ordered to kill the Flame Alchemist today, but if he managed to take him and his original target out, he was sure his handler would be pleased. However the Colonel was known for being a skilled alchemist and brutal fighter, so he wouldn’t go down easily. But E14 had never failed a mission before, and he wasn’t about to start now. If Mustang was going to hinder him from killing his target, he’d have to be eliminated.

E14 had been thinking this and coming up with a plan of action as he slowly turned around, but his plotting was halted by the man’s expression when their eyes met. All the color drained from the Flame Alchemist’s face, and his jaw had gone lax. Before he could begin to speculate what evoked this reaction, the man had quietly muttered-

“Ed?”

The assassin furrowed his brow, wondering if the Colonel was attempting to pull some kind of trick on him.

“Who the hell is Ed?” he asked gruffly, tensing in preparation for an attack.

The Flame Alchemist looked crestfallen at his reply, leaving E14 even more confused. This had to be a ploy to catch him off guard. It didn't matter though; E14 never let his guard down. It seemed there was a chance that Mustang had, however, since the flames encircling him had vanished. E14 took the opportunity to clap his hands, forming his right arm into a blade. The sound of bullets reached his ears as he lunged forward; it seemed the Colonel hadn’t been lying about the whole “we will open fire” thing.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” he bellowed, and the bullets ceased.

The younger alchemist heard rapid footsteps, and when he whipped his head around, his initial target was gone. He gritted his teeth, this annoying bastard was ruining his mission. He’d have to deal with the man quickly and pursue the soldier afterward. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long; his handler wasn’t known for his patience. However, as long as he completed his original mission in a somewhat timely manner, he was confident he would avoid punishment.

“Edward, it’s me, it’s Mustang,” the Colonel said with his hands up in a placating manner, as if he was talking to a wild animal.

E14 closed the gap between them, his blade clanging on the concrete. The man had dodged at the last second, causing him to miss. The assassin raised his hands to clap, when Mustang grabbed his forearms.

“Ed, talk to me, what’s going on?” the Colonel pleaded.

He struggled to wrestle himself from the man’s iron grip, instead deciding to sweep his legs out from under him with a swift kick, landing him on top of the Flame Alchemist.

“I’m. not. Edward.” he answered through gritted teeth, “I don’t know who that is.”

Mustang rolled over so that E14 was the one on the ground, pinned down by his arms.

“It’s you,” he cried, “I don’t know what happened to you, but you have to snap out of it.”

E14 was getting the feeling that this wasn’t some charade; the alchemist truly believed him to be someone named Edward. Regardless of what was happening, he was sick of it. A metal leg to the stomach loosened the Colonel’s grip, allowing E14 to scamper back onto his feet. Without a second thought, he plunged his blade into Mustang's gut, causing him to cry out. E14 had been aiming for the chest, but clearly today wasn’t his day. At least he’d gotten the blade in somewhere.

Mustang stumbled as E14 unceremoniously yanked it out, wiping the blood on his pant leg. Considering the alchemist had just been stabbed, he wasn’t expecting the man to tackle him to the ground so swiftly. E14’s head slammed into the concrete, causing stars to burst in his vision. As a blurry face looked down at him with a mix of fear and desperation, something strange happened. The same face flashed in his mind, but in this image he was smiling. E14 shook himself, focusing back on the person in front of him, disturbed by what he had seen. Had it been his imagination or a memory?

It couldn’t be the latter. He was sure he’d never met the Colonel until today. Why would he have a memory of the man smiling? The assassin tried to convince himself of this, but a seed of doubt had been planted in his mind. E14 had no past, no family, and no memories to speak of. He’d never seen anything like that before, and as much as he hated to admit it, it had shaken him.

He tried to continue fighting Mustang, but he had been thrown off kilter. The man was almost completely on the defensive, but E14 still wasn’t winning. He had this strange, powerful feeling that he knew Mustang, which didn’t make any sense. None of this did, not the picture in his head, the weird things the man was saying, or the way he was clearly doing his best not to hurt E14. He tried to shove these thoughts down and focus. At this point it was clear his best course of action would be to flee the scene. He would melt into the shadows and recuperate, then go after his target again. E14 would definitely be punished for taking so long, but not nearly as much as he would be for failing his objective. With this thought in mind, he wriggled out of the Colonel’s grip and ran.

With a yell and a snap, a wall of flames erupted in his path, cornering him. The assassin groaned in frustration.

“If you’re not Ed, who are you?” Mustang asked in a measured tone, clutching his bleeding side.

“None of your business old man,” E14 snapped, neck pricking as he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to talk back, that his handler wouldn’t approve.

The Colonel didn’t seem to approve either, if his grimace was any indicator. Though the expression also could’ve been due to his stab wound.

“Listen, I’m not going to hurt you-”

“You literally body slammed me like one minute ago,” E14 pointed out, causing both of them to wince. He was usually better at controlling his tongue, but his head was pounding and he was unusually frazzled.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry, but you did stab me,” he replied. “If you don't hurt me I won’t hurt you, agreed?”

E14 shifted his weight uneasily. This seemed like an obvious trap, but if Mustang wanted to kill or even just badly injure him, he could’ve done so numerous times already. The lack of flames engulfing E14’s body seemed to indicate the Colonel wanted him alive, and uninjured, but what for? To ask him about this Edward character he resembled? Well the joke was on him, E14 had never heard of the guy.

But that seed of doubt was sprouting, worming its way through his brain. Edward could be his name, for all E14 knew. His knowledge of himself was limited to what his handler had told him, and he didn’t trust that guy as far as he could throw him.

“What will you do if I agree?” he asked slowly, eyeing the blood dripping down the man’s side.

“I’ll bring you back to Central with me.”

“And if I don’t?”

The man’s eyes darkened. “I’ll bring you back to Central by force.”

E14 clenched and unclenched his fists. No matter what he did, escape was unlikely, and on the off chance he made it back to base empty handed, there’d be hell to pay. He stared deep into the Colonel’s gray eyes, trying to decide if what he had in store for E14 could be worse than his handler’s wrath.

After a moment of deliberation, he opened his mouth to agree to the terms when he felt a pinch in his neck. He yanked the now emptied dart out, looking back at Mustang with betrayal.

“Bastard,” he muttered as his vision began to fade.

Before E14 fell, he just managed to catch the shock in Mustang’s eyes.

Chapter Text

Roy was too slow to catch Fullmetal as he crumpled on the ground. He whipped his head up to the windows where their snipers were.

“Who the hell just tranqued him?! I had it handled!” he roared. 

There was no reply as he marched toward the unconscious boy, scooping him gently off the ground. Well, attempted to; Ed was heavier than he appeared due to the metal limbs, and Roy had momentarily forgotten about his stab wound. He careened sideways at a particularly painful twinge when Maes appeared behind him suddenly, keeping him upright. Maes hoisted Ed onto his shoulder like a sack of flour, grabbing Roy’s forearm.

“I’ve got him, let’s go.”

He followed his friend to the car, watching numbly as he buckled the limp blonde into the back seat. It wasn’t until the door was closed that the full weight of all that had happened hit him. He doubled over, black spots dancing across his vision as his thoughts devolved into chaos. 

“Roy--”

“He’s--somethings wrong with him, he doesn’t remember,” Roy muttered in disbelief, “he doesn’t even know who he is .”

Maes placed a bracing hand on his shoulder, “I heard.” 

“Someone did something to him, made him into a killer,” he gasped, gripping his knees hard enough to bruise. “This is all my fault, if I hadn’t-- oh god Maes--”

A wave of dizziness crashed over Roy, nearly sending him to his knees. Maes was the only thing keeping him standing, his kind face swimming in Roy’s vision.

“Roy, you have to breathe,” he instructed, an edge of fear in his voice.

He tried, but it was like a boulder was sitting on his chest. He was barely able to keep the nausea threatening to swallow him at bay. Edward’s cold, dead eyes flashed in his mind as he struggled to breathe.

“ Roy! ” Maes yelled, “you need to calm down, we have to get out of here now. ” 

The urgency in his voice snapped Roy out of his stupor. He couldn’t break down, not when Edward needed him. He slowed his breathing as best as he could and let Mae’s help him into the passenger seat. 

“There should be a towel near your feet,” the man said as climbed into the driver’s side, “press that against your wound.”

Roy did as he was told, suppressing a groan as he did. “Where are we going?”

“Dr. Knox’s,” his friend replied, eyes trained determinately on the road ahead.

He furrowed his brow, brain muddied with pain and stress, “Why not Central hospital?” 

“We can’t exactly bring a wanted murderer into a military hospital,” Maes explained, “unless we want to risk him getting sent straight to the firing squad.”

Roy blanched at the thought, “Right. You really think they’d execute him without any trial?”

Maes worried his lip, the lines creasing his forehead making him look suddenly much older than he was.

“I think there’s a strong chance. Either that or they’d torture him for information about who sent him. He’s killed a lot of our men, Roy.”

Fury rose up inside the alchemist’s chest, “That wasn’t him , someone’s making him do that-- Ed would never--”

“I know, Roy,” Maes interrupted, sparing a concerned glance his way, “I know. But they won’t care, you know that. The Phantom is believed to be an assassin for Drachma, and if that’s confirmed--”

“He’ll be a traitor to the state,” Roy realized, dread coiling in his stomach.

Maes only grimaced, gripping the steering wheel hard enough to whiten his knuckles. Roy had known that things likely wouldn’t get easier after they found Fullmetal, but he never expected anything like this . The idea that Ed, stubborn, altruistic Ed had been turned into a cold blooded killer was inconceivable. Fullmetal may have always been a brat and a thorn in his side, but the boy had a moral compass of steel, he would risk his own life before considering taking someone else's. 

Roy knew one thing for sure, Edward would never kill another person willingly, amnesia or no. That fact alone made this situation all that more complicated and dark. 

Before he knew it, he was being half guided half carried to Dr. Knox’s door. The man arrived after the second knock and sighed heavily, eyeing the blood dripping onto his front steps with disdain.

“I’m gonna have to start charging you guys.”

By the time they finished explaining the situation, Roy’s wound had been stitched up and Edward was still out cold. They had removed the boy’s mask, as it didn’t look very comfortable.

“So you brought a serial killer into my house,” Knox remarked, seeming more annoyed than surprised.

“Technically speaking, yes,” Maes answered.

The doctor glared at them for a moment, looking unhappily between the two of them and the boy. Roy wondered for a startling moment if he would kick them out. However he just sighed again and made his way over to where Ed was laying on the couch and began examining him.

“If this kid tries to kill one of you under my roof, I’m not saving you,” he stated bluntly as he scanned the boy’s body.

“Understood,” Roy replied.

Knox attempted to move Fullmetal’s hair to check for a head wound, but he began to stir as soon as the doctor’s fingers touched his head. The three men stiffened, silently preparing for if he became violent upon waking. But the boy just jerked his head away from Knox’s hand.

“Stop,” he whined, “don’ hurt me.”

Roy’s insides turned to ice as he took in the image of the barely lucid boy cowering from the doctor. 

“He’s not going to hurt you,” Maes said gently, inching his way over to the couch.

Edward flinched at the second voice, enlarged pupils darting around the room. 

“Please don’t,” he slurred, “m’ sorry.” 

It took every ounce of his willpower to keep a level head, to keep himself from spiraling at the implications of Ed’s pleading apologies. While Roy continued to stay frozen and useless on the bed, Maes shooed Knox away, approaching the boy slowly.

“I promise I’m not going to hurt you, I just need to check to make sure your head is okay. Can I touch you?” 

Ed’s glassy eyes narrowed, but after a moment he nodded.

His friend gently lifted Edward’s head off of the couch, feeling it for any sign of bleeding. 

“Alright it seems okay, you’ve got a big knot back there but no bleeding, which is good. Means you probably don’t have a concussion,” Maes explained.

Ed just stared at him blankly. “Who’re you?”

Maes blinked, momentarily put off by the question. He quickly regained his composure and smiled softly.

“Silly me, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, but you can just call me Hughes. Or Maes if you’d prefer.” 

The blonde hummed, still giving him a suspicious look. He seemed a bit more lucid now, but not entirely with it. He’d always been more affected by medication due to his missing limbs. 

“What’re you gonna do to me?” 

The question gave the three men pause. Roy figured it was logical to ask given Fullmetal’s knowledge of the situation. All the boy knew was that he’d been drugged and taken to an undisclosed location by random men from the same military he’d been targeting, which was probably a frightening situation to be in. 

“Nothing,” Roy answered, “I told you if you don’t hurt us, we won’t hurt you.”

“Then why’d you drug me?” he retorted.

“That wasn’t us,” Maes jumped in, “that was a different officer.”

“I yelled at them if it helps,” Roy added. 

“Not really,” Ed pushed himself to a sitting position. He blinked hard, looking dizzy.

“I’m still confused about what you want with me.”

Roy bit back a sigh, struggling to figure out how to explain the situation in a way that wouldn’t freak him out. He ultimately decided that maybe it would be better to start by getting Ed’s story.

“What is the first thing you can remember?"