Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CENTRAL CITY
WANTED BULLETIN — URGENT
Issued 14th March 1917

NAME: Roy MUSTANG

DESCRIPTION:
Age: 17 years
Date of Birth: March 25, 1899
Appearance: Black hair, medium frame
Height: 172 cm

WANTED for 1st Degree Murder, Arson, and Kidnapping.

Subject should be considered Armed and Dangerous. DO NOT approach.

LAST KNOWN ADDRESS: 73 Military Rd and 45 Johnston St.

If you have any information on the whereabouts of this subject, or any information that may lead to his arrest, please contact your local police station or military office.

Chapter Text

Everyone in the neighbourhood knew better than to go near the house at the end of Fueller Street.

The yard was severely overgrown; its walls were covered in ivy so thick you'd think the house was trying to hide in plain sight; and then, of course, there were the lights: flashes of bright light that occasionally permeated from the top right window in the late hours of the night.

It wouldn't be an over exaggeration to say the house looked abandoned; better yet, it looked out of place. If not for its residents, the house may have been demolished.

There was an older man with long unkept hair who would leave for days on end and never return; a boyish-looking girl, assumed to be the man's daughter, who was rarely ever spotted leaving the house; and more recently, a dark-haired boy who seemed unrelated to either of them. The boy was often seen carrying books and groceries into the house, leading many to believe he was a newly hired servant or a caretaker of some kind. After all, it was hard to imagine why anyone would choose to have anything to do with such a strange house, willingly.

Even before the fire, everyone knew better than to go near that house or its inhabitants. The fact that it burned down did nothing but solidify their harsh judgements.

Indeed, it was a house — not a home. Because a home would imply that a family resided within it, and to say that, one would have to seriously reconsider their definition of “family”.

***

6:45 pm — Avery’s office.

“What do you mean you can’t get in?” The General asked, leaning back in his chair. The two soldiers in front of his desk looked at each other before turning their gaze back towards their superior. Dorochet spoke up first.

“I mean, he locked himself in, sir.”

“Then break down the door,” Avery responded without a change in expression. “You’re telling me this like it's a problem. Have the two of you never broken down a door before?"

“We can’t,” Roa chimed in. “We’ve tried. The doors won’t budge. It’s like we’re hitting a cement wall.”

‘Ugh, of course.’ Avery suddenly remembered who they were dealing with and groaned.

“That middle-aged prick… He must’ve used alchemy to reinforce the door.” Avery spun in his chair away from his subordinates. From his window, he could see the buildings outside Central Headquarters had begun to bathe in a bright, lush orange.

He sighed. It would seem his patience was beginning to disappear as quickly as the sun.

Without turning around, he asked, “How long has it been?”

“About six hours, sir.”

The General gnawed at one of his fingernails. He hasn't even left for the bathroom? Was he pissing in a can or something? Avery quickly shook his head in an attempt to get out of his own thoughts. If they couldn’t break the door down manually, then the only thing left was to blow down the doors.

Blow them down. Bombs. Bingo.

Avery got up from his seat and began talking as he made his way across the room. “Roa, you’re with me. Dorochet, I want you to go down to the dorms and then meet us in front of Hawkeye’s office.”

“Huh? What do you want from the dorms?” Dorochet asked, slightly irritated that he was the one being forced to go down. Avery grabbed his coat off the rack by the door and tugged his arm through one of the sleeves.

“None of the explosives we have are small enough to destroy those doors without taking out part of the building with it. We’ll need a specialist if we want to get Hawkeye out in one piece.”

***

7:04 pm — Outside Hawkeye’s office.

The four of them stood outside Hawkeye's office waiting to make sure any remaining military workers had left the floor. The smallest figure among them, a young man with dark slicked-back hair, approached the double doors causing both Roa and Dorochet to take another step back towards the back wall. The boy stared at the doors in front of him, running his hand along the wood. Not the most ideal material but good enough.

The boy suddenly began to raise his right hand causing Dorochet to jump back, hitting his back against the wall. Anticipating the blast, the man shut his eyes tight, only to be met with silence and the sound of snickering.

Dorochet peeked open an eye to see the boy was just yawning. His face quickly burned up as he noticed his superior snickering at his expense.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Dorochet whispered eyeing the boy in front of them. Everyone at HQ was well aware of this kid’s track record, and the reason he was enrolled as a cadet in the first place; neither of which spoke to a possession of care or safety.

“Relax, pup. It’ll be fine,” Avery said lightly patting Dorochet on the head — something he’d often do to the annoy the smaller man. “He’ll be able to do this more precisely than any bomb we—”

*BOOM!!*

A few coughs and the sound of falling rubble ruminated through the air.

As the dust began to clear,  Avery could see Dorochet had latched onto Roa’s arm; a familiar but funny sight no less. The smaller man was often spooked quite easily, much like a dog, which made sense. It made sense on the level that Dorochet was literally part dog — a human-made chimera to be exact. His partner, a much taller and broader man than he, was part cow, or ox as he preferred to call it; although he didn't take part in any “cow activities,” much to the General's disappointment.

Avery began to snicker to himself as the image of a dog clinging to a cow swirled around in his head. The General was, as his assistant lieutenant once put it, “a childish buffoon” on most days, and this day was no different. “You have the humour of a twelve year old boy,” she had said to him. Avery recalled quipping back “at least he wasn't the size of one,” unlike their hot-blooded Major.

The bruise in his left cheek still ached from that day, and it had started to ache again bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.

A large hole now presented itself where two doors had once stood.

“Alright, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Avery beamed. He quickly glanced around only to find that the boy responsible had already left and was halfway down the hall. Avery tried to call out a word of thanks to him but the boy simply ignored it. He was too tired to deal with thanks.

The three that remained stepped through the large hole leading into Hawkeye’s office, narrowly avoiding any of the rubble surrounding the entrance.

Avery could hardly contain his excitement. He had been waiting for this day for weeks, if not months. But that feeling of triumph suddenly gave way when the office fully came into focus.

This couldn’t be right. There was…

“Nothing. There’s no one here.”

The three of them stood there frozen in shock as the room they entered held nothing but a desk and some empty shelving. Anticipating their superior’s rage, the two soldiers held their tongue as Avery made his way further in towards Hawkeye’s desk. A few stray papers lay scattered across the floor as well as a couple military handbooks; clearly things he had left behind that held no value to him.

The General let out a long, drawn out groan. He had played his game so patiently — so patiently. It was out of his nature to be like this. And yet, here he was being punished for not being greedy enough. What a joke.

As the silence between them continued, Dorochet began to check the corners of the room to see if there were any signs of an escape. Perhaps a trapdoor through the floor, or even a false wall that led outside the room. Anything would be better than nothing.

But nothing is all they found. At most, there were some transmutation marks around the entrance, which only worked to confirm the General’s theory about him tampering with the door. Beyond that, nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that Hawkeye was nowhere to be found. All hope for Avery’s search seemed lost until he stepped behind Hawkeye’s desk.

Crack…!

“Oh?”

Avery looked down to see the corner of a small picture frame trapped beneath his foot. Did he leave something behind after all? He leaned over and picked up the frame. It was a small wooden frame about the size of his palm; the edges of it looked burnt. Inside was a photograph of a woman with long blonde hair holding a child of nearly identical likeness in her arms.

Strange. Hawkeye never spoke about his family, but surely he had one.

Oh.

Now, that could work.

“I’m sorry, boss,” Dorochet finally broke the silence. “He must’ve snuck out when we weren’t looking. I don’t know how we would’ve missed it but clearly we did. I’m sorry. We failed you.” Dorochet wanted kick himself for saying it but he knew acknowledging their mistake would probably fare better than saying nothing at all. This would probably cost him about a month’s worth of unpaid overtime; his back ached at the thought.

Roa came up beside him and added, “We’ll accept any punishment for this oversight.”

What… did he just say? Dorochet quickly jabbed his partner in the side earning him a confused glare from the larger man. He was mentally preparing himself for overtime — not any punishment. Leaving such an idea in the hands of their trigger happy commander was akin to giving a child a cleaver, never mind a knife.

The last time Avery got “creative” with their sentencing, the man had requested that the two of them go pick up his gear from up north in a maid uniform — handpicked by him. Where he had procured the damn thing was a mystery neither of them cared to suss out, but his reasoning was as follows: “Your assignment is basically the equivalent of going to pick up my laundry for me, right? So why don’t you dress the part while you go do it.”

Their punishment was in response to a mix-up of some files that led to Avery going to court with inaccurate case files, resulting in a long ajournment; a massively severe screw-up for the Head of Central Investigations. Dorochet knew they were lucky to get away with their lives, but…

It didn’t help that the uniform wouldn’t fit over Roa’s gigantic shoulders.

Thus, what resulted from their little excursion, was a photo of the smaller Lieutenant walking into Fort Briggs asking to pick up Brigadier General Avery’s special carbon gloves — in a maid’s skirt and white stockings — alone, next to his giant male friend.

It was suicide, Dorochet thought. And his partner had just offered it to him on a silver platter.

As if to feed on those very fears, the General let out a hearty laugh causing all the colour to drain from Dorochet’s face.

“Come on, boys,” Avery hummed, taking a seat on Hawkeye’s desk. “You’re not giving up on me already, are you?”

The two men stared back at him blankly.

“You want us to search for him? Like, right now?” Dorochet quickly felt a gust of fatigue pass through him like a premonition for things to come. “He could be anywhere in Central by now. Never mind that, he could be anywhere in Amestris with his talents!”

“Oh, I don’t think we need to worry about that.” Avery shoved the cracked picture frame into Roa’s hands as he walked out of the room.

“There’s still one thing he needs before he can skip town.”

***

Walking down the sunlit road, a young boy happily took in the afternoon air with a couple of heavy books in his hand.

Roy Mustang, sixteen; the boy was just returning from the local bookstore after picking up a special order for his master who was currently away on business in Central. His master was often away for reasons related to research or general inquiry from the military, but such was the life of a renowned state alchemist. Home was hardly a place for a brilliant mind like his.

A pleasant tune hummed in Roy's mind. All morning it had rained, making his venture into town a bit regrettable. However, now, the rain had subsided, leaving only the clearest sky and a warm sun for him to bask under.

Today was bound to be a better day than yesterday.

Yesterday.

A long, winded sigh left the boy’s lips. As quickly as the thought of sunshine had entered his mind, so too did the memories of yesterday’s... unpleasantries.

No matter how many times he replayed it over in his head, he couldn’t find anything to explain the events of last night. What Roy thought was a harmless comment turned out to be the catalyst for the biggest argument he’s ever had since he left home — and with his closest friend at that. He wasn’t even aware that the girl could argue. Forget shouting, she rarely spoke louder than a mouse! Everything about it was so out of the ordinary. He hoped today would be a return to some normalcy.

After walking for another few minutes, Roy had finally reached his destination: the last house at the end of the street. He pushed open the rickety fence gate and made his way to the front door.

As he grasped the door handle, his mind immediately went ‘Keys’. He always forgot to take out his keys before approaching the door. But before he could fully register the thought, his hand turned the handle on instinct and, surprisingly, the door opened.

Huh. I guess I forgot to lock the door, Roy thought to himself as he stepped inside.

Once in, Roy placed the books in his hands down and made a sound of relief as he stretched out the soreness in his arms from carrying them all this way. Usually he would have taken a bag with him, but he forgot that too this morning. Next, he took off his coat and hung it on the wall next to him.

All that was left was to check if his roommate/friend was tempered enough to come down and eat lunch with him. She had skipped breakfast this morning, and knowing her, she was probably still starving in bed, waiting for him to return.

“Riza, I’m back!”

There was silence. ‘Crap. Is she still mad?’

Roy bit his lip before he calling out again, “Riza?”

Nothing.

She was still mad.

Strangely enough, this was more normal than anything that happened yesterday. Whenever the two of them would get into little tiffs every now and then, Riza would always be the one to wait for Roy to apologize first. Even if she had been the one to start it, as rare as it was, she’d wait until the boy came knocking before speaking to him again. She was stubborn that way, much like her father. It was probably the only trait shared between them.

However, something else had caught Roy’s eye as a bit… unusual.

Before taking off his shoes, Roy noticed a trail of footprints had been trudged in all around his feet. Muddy prints, from a boot. Clearly not from him.

Then, there was the paper. Sheets of paper scattered all across the floor; some crushed, some muddied. And these footprints… they led all around the kitchen and living room, before making their way up the stairs.

It felt like a rock had just fallen into the pits of Roy’s stomach. He glanced over to his left to see the kitchen: it was a mess. More papers were strewn about; books that weren’t there when he left were spread all over the counters and tabletops; the small mug Roy had left on the table was now smashed on the floor, leaving water to spread over the tiles.

And the living room: it was completely torn apart. The couch cushions were thrown across the room; the coffee table had been flipped; the lamp, knocked over on its side. To say it looked like someone had rummaged through the place would be an understatement. The lump in Roy’s throat grew heavier by the second.

Someone had come into the house.

Crash!

… Someone was still in the house.

In trying not to make any sound, Roy carefully took off his shoes before slowly crawling up the stairs. More sounds emanated from the second floor; sounds of things hitting the ground or being torn apart. Was it a robber? A thief? There wasn’t anything of high value in the house that Roy could think of. Unless the robber was a skilled alchemist, he doubted there would be anything worth taking.

When Roy reached the top, he followed the footprints with his eyes and found them leading into his Master’s study. None led to Riza’s room. Thank goodness.

He debated going to check on Riza first but curiosity got the best of him. The sounds of frustrated murmuring and paper tearing grew louder as Roy shuffled along the wall towards the open door. His hands were getting sweatier by the second. He didn’t have any weapons on him so perhaps he ought to just take a look and then go get Riza. But as he slowly peeked his head in, all the tension building in his body deflated like a balloon.

“Oh, Master Hawkeye, it’s just you.” Roy let out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t realize you’d come back yet. Hah… It was so quiet, for a second there I thought—”

Berthold’s head snapped up at the sound of his apprentice’s voice. “Boy… is that you?” The man had his back turned, keeping him from seeing who had just called out to him.

“Yes, it’s me, sir.” Roy said coming up next to him.

“Oh… Good… Where did you go?” Berthold’s question came out strangely accusatory.

“Oh, I just went to the bookstore. I went to go pick up that order you made a couple weeks ago. The books were a lot bigger than I imagined, so I had to go twice to get it all and…” Roy’s words began to trail off as he took in the state of his master’s appearance: his eyes were red, his hands were shaking, and his face looked more sunken in than usual. Then, it finally dawned on him.

He was the one who made the mess downstairs.

“Is… everything okay?”

Berthold’s gaze held onto Roy’s face with a look that spelt guilt and despair. He stared at him, as if the answer to his problems lay somewhere beneath the boy’s skin.

Everything was going wrong. Everything.

Snapping back to reality, Berthold quickly tore himself away to crumple the papers held in his right hand. He threw them into the waste bin next to his desk, only for them bounce off the other hundreds of balled up pieces of paper that were stuffed into the bin.

It was only then that Roy noticed the incredible disarray of the room. Papers were everywhere, crumpled or shredded; almost all the books had fallen off their shelves or were left in piles with their pages torn out; samples of dead creatures were strewn all across the floor; and worst of all, the large array that hung on a canvas above his master’s desk was cut and burned beyond recognition.

Something was wrong.

But before he could process that, his master suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him in place.

“Boy, I need you to listen to me. Very soon, a pair of men are going to arrive at the house. Those men are going to be here to arrest me. I need you to take the girl and leave before they get here. Do you understand what I’m asking you to do?” Berthold’s grip was so tight it felt like his nails were digging into Roy’s skin.

Roy blinked. “Wait… What? What do you mean? What men? The police?”

Berthold shook his head. “No, they won’t be police. I suspect they will most likely be military personnel. Boy, listen. I need you to take Riza and leave this house — now.”

Roy protested, “What? But master, you work for the military, don’t you? You’re a state alchemist! Why would they want to arrest you?”

Berthold’s eyes widened as if he just remembered something. Saying nothing, he turned to his desk and started frantically rummaging through its drawers.

“Master, please I don’t understand. Are you in some kind of trouble?” Roy’s pleas fell on deaf ears as Berthold’s eyes remained glued to the desk.

The older man pulled open another drawer.

No, not here.

It almost seemed like he had forgotten Roy was standing there at all.

Roy tried again, “Master. Master, what is it you’re looking for?”

The boy knew better than anyone what that look in his master’s eyes meant. He had only seen him get like this one other time when the man had misplaced something “very important to him” a few months ago. He nearly tore the entire house down looking for it, only for it to be tucked away under one of his bedroom magazines.

The man continued to rummage through his desk, his actions becoming more clumsy as he struggled to open another drawer. Roy knew the man wouldn’t turn around until he found what he was looking for, so he waited.

“Master Hawkeye, does… Riza know what’s happening?”

“YES, it’s here.” Berthold quickly pulled out a large leather-bound notebook from deep within the bottom drawer of his desk. Roy recognized it as the same thing he had lost before. Of course now, it was much thicker than it was back then.

Before he could protest, Berthold shoved the journal into Roy’s chest, grabbing the boy’s hand and wrapping it around the journal. He said, “This is all I want you to take with you. Everything else must go. Everything. Yes, everything…”

Berthold’s expression quickly melted into deep anguish. He couldn’t believe what he was saying. As the man slowly fell to his knees, a familiar tickle began to build in the back of his throat.

Not now…

Roy, beyond startled, kneeled down to remain level with his master. “What is it?” He asked, in reference to the journal. Berthold wanted to answer but the threat of another coughing fit was affecting his ability to speak up. He took a shaky breath in, trying to ignore the terrible burn that was creeping up in throat. His eyes began to water.

“Everything I have… Everything I’ve created… It all has to be destroyed.”

Roy sat there in disbelief. “D- destroyed? But why?” His heart sank at the thought of all his master’s work being for naught.

It was four years ago that he had come into his master’s care. Four years of watching him work, learning by his side. How could that all be for nothing?

“The military… they…” Then, as if on cue, the dam finally broke. Berthold lurched forward onto the ground coughing on the verge of gagging. His head and ribs throbbed from the intensity of the attack. He felt Roy’s small hand rub circles into his back; a comforting but ultimately useless gesture. If anything, his touch just made him feel guilty.

Up until about a month ago, he had been able to contain himself in front of the children. He did it less to the effect of a facade and more for his own personal boundaries. The last thing he needed was to see their concerned faces.

However, his condition had considerably worsened lately. He could rarely make it to the bathroom before succumbing to his coughs. The ache in his throat came more frequently and it always seemed to come when he spoke for too long or felt any kind of stress; in that way it acted much like asthma but it was a symptom for something far more deadly.

“Master! Master, are you alright?! Just stay right there, I’ll go get your medicine—” But as he got up to move, Roy felt a tug on his pant leg.

Bloody spit began to pool in Berthold’s mouth, dribbling from his chin. It was all he could do to grab the boy’s leg in an attempt to save him the time. The medicine would do nothing after all; he knew this. He had found out two months ago from his doctor that whatever was plaguing his body was in fact terminal. There was nothing that could be done about it; he was going to die to this disease.

He wondered if this was his wife’s final attempt to curse him; to go in the same way she did. Strange, it had been so long since he last thought of her.

“The military wants my research,” Berthold finally said. “I should’ve known it would eventually come to this, but… But you must understand, they cannot have it…!” Roy helped him move into a more comfortable upright position before going to sit across from him with a sad look on his face.

What a poor expression, Berthold thought to himself. Redness poked at the corner of Roy’s eyes; the boy was literally worrying himself to tears.

“You’ve finished your research?” Roy asked, curiosity getting the best of him. “Have your formulas on flame alchemy really been completed?”

Berthold nodded. He had finished them just a week ago. A glimmer of hope dawned on Roy’s face.

“Then, this is great news! Master, if the military are coming, then I’m sure they’ll be—”

“THEY CANNOT HAVE IT!!”

Berthold’s voice rang out, echoing throughout the entire house.

Roy fell back. His bottom lip was left quivering from the shock. He hadn’t been yelled at like that before. At least, not by him. Not since…

Realizing what he had just done, Berthold quickly stood up, turning away from his apprentice. He couldn’t bear to see that expression on this child’s face as well.

“I… I can’t…” Her small face appeared in his mind. “I can’t let them take her.”

Roy went quiet. His eyes remained glued to the floor as shame and fear consumed him thoughts. Seeing this, Berthold slowly kneeled down to hold the boy’s hands, gentler, kinder than he’d ever done before.

“There’s something you must understand, boy. Alchemists are strange creatures. They cannot help but seek the truth. It’s… like nourishment to them. Food. Or perhaps, oxygen. So long as they live, they must continue to seek it. Even if it comes at the expense of their own humanity. I am that creature, boy. I have long since come to terms with the fact that completing my research would mean surrendering any bits of humanity I had left. I couldn’t help it, don’t you see? It’s as if there is a beast inside me that will consume me whole should I stop seeking out the truth.” Berthold felt his hands shake.

“But now, its hunger has been sated. And I can’t help but fear for what I’ve created.”

Roy’s head slowly turned up to meet his master’s gaze. His eyes stared up at him through his messy black bangs.

Berthold placed a hand on the boy’s head. And to Roy’s surprise, he saw a smile creep onto his master’s face — the first he’s ever seen.

“I was so immersed in my research, I never thought to teach it to you. A pity, isn’t it? In truth, I feared what you would have done with it. But now… Now, I’m left with no choice.” Berthold once again pushed his journal into the boy’s hands. “You must leave this place. With her. Please.” Berthold ran his thumb across the leather as if to feel it one last time.

Roy swallowed thickly. “Leave… With Riza?”

Berthold’s mind froze. Yes, of course, that’s what he meant. “…Yes, with Riza. Please, boy. May I ask this of you?”

DING-DONG…

The sound of the front door bell echoed from the downstairs foyer.

Someone was here.

***

Roa and Dorochet stood outside the front door to Hawkeye’s estate. They had arrived about ten minutes ago but no one was answering. He figured the man would have his guard up, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating to deal with.

“Be nice. Don’t rough him up too much. I’d like to keep him happy and healthy if at all possible.” Those were their instructions. That, and to retrieve Hawkeye’s research materials — the latter being the main point of their mission.

Dorochet knocked on the door again. “Ugh, this is stupid. I knew we shouldn’t have waited.”

Avery had instructed the two of them to go home last night and not worry about the search until the morning. For some reason, the General had a strange intuition that Hawkeye would stall on leaving, but that seemed like a bag of horseshit to both of his subordinates.

Next, Dorochet tried peeking in through one of the lower windows. All the curtains were drawn shut.

Alright. Time for Plan B.

“Man, it’s too bad we can’t get inside…” Dorochet moaned, feigning disappointment. “If only there were someone who could break this door down for us… Unless…?” Dorochet slowly turned to Roa who quickly got the message and let out a long sigh.

One swift charge was all it took. However, once inside, the two soldiers were immediately met with an all too familiar sight.

“Well now, this should be interesting,” Roa noted.

The entire house was covered in white sheets. All the furniture was either covered or packed away in boxes. Any closets that remained had been emptied out. No shoes, no coats — no Hawkeye. The house was empty.

“Goddamn it!!” Dorochet kicked one of the couches, then recoiled from the pain. “There’s nobody fricken’ here!”

Roa took another quick jaunt through the living room. It was a pretty nice house — in fact, it was pristine. Not quite what he had imagined for such a raggedy state alchemist; although his salary certainly showed.

Roa decided to open up one of the boxes while his partner checked the kitchen: there were some unfolded clothes, a small lamp, and a few other household items inside. Strangely enough, none of the boxes had been taped down, and judging by the miscellaneous nature of what was inside them, it looked like they were packed in a hurry.

“Looks like they were planning to move.” Roa said.

“More like they’ve BEEN moved. Look.”

Dorochet dragged his finger across one of the sheets picking up a thin layer of dust.

“I don’t think anyone’s been here in months.”

***

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Avery’s voice sounded over the phone.

“What do you mean ‘that sounds about right?’” Dorochet tried his best to hide the annoyance in his voice. “Don’t tell me you knew this would happen.” The two men had managed to track down a nearby phone booth to report their negative findings back to HQ.

Avery responded dryly, “No, but I had a feeling it would. I mean, Hawkeye’s not an idiot, it’s not like he would just go home after fleeing the military.”

Dorochet felt his eye twitch. “Then… What was the point of us coming here… Sir.”

Seeing as his partner was on the verge of blowing up, Roa grabbed the phone out of his hands and put it to his ear. “What should we do now, sir? Do you have any idea as to where he might be?”

“You guys can come back to the office for now. I already sent our two little ‘birds’ to the other location.”

***

In a small town further east, two young soldiers were making their way down to the location of their second assignment: Berthold Hawkeye’s secret safe house. The General had just received word about a potential “secondary location,” and quickly tasked his two best juniors to go scope out the scene.

“Eugh… Are we there yet?”

“No, sir. But soon.”

The younger, albeit taller of the two, was a lanky, grey haired fellow otherwise known as Master Sergeant Falman, or “Fall Guy” as Avery would call him. He was, without a doubt, the most generous and obedient member of Avery’s unit. He took on everyone else’s paperwork when they were too tired to finish it, and he would often get food for everyone when it came to spending long hours in the office.

It was a joke amongst the senior staff that the young Sergeant’s aging hair colour was a result of the man’s aptness to worry. His overly-mature demeanour did nothing to sate these rumours; thus, leading many people to believe he was much older, despite him being only a year older than his fellow junior.

His partner, on the other hand, held a very different kind of reputation.

The shorter— err, or rather the blonde, was General Avery’s second-in-command, Major Elric: a hot-headed twenty-four year old with great skills in hand-to-hand combat and alchemic strategy. As a former state alchemist, his knowledge on alchemy was unparalleled, making him the absolute ace of their unit.

He was also, however, the loudest complainer in their unit, which made completing assignments with him quite difficult and unpleasant.

The Major let out a deep guttural groan, “Ughhh…”

“Is everything alright, sir?” Falman asked.

Ed groaned in response, “I know we said we’d walk but… Don’t you think this is a little far?”

“Mm, I do believe we’re still on the right track… But yes, it’s still a pretty good distance away.”

Ed whined, “God, this is gonna take forever… There had to have been a better way of doing this. One that didn’t involve destroying my feet.” Falman just smiled. The Major had been whining ever since they left the station, but Falman’s good nature prevented him from saying anything about it. He simply took in the Major’s woes with a smile and gently reassured him that they were probably almost there. Probably.

Falman then added, “Well, neither of us can drive so it’s not like we had much choice. At least it’s a nice day for walking.” Ed felt a bit irked by his first comment. It was true, neither of them had their licenses. But pointing it out felt unintentionally cruel.

“That lazy bastard…” Ed huffed. “HE should be the one coming down here to do this job — NOT me.”

Falman thought to himself, Oh, here we go…

The young Major was currently on a short stint in the East but his affairs had just about finished when they received the call about a fugitive alchemist on the loose in their area. The Major was literally moments away from clocking out and returning to Central when he was handed the phone for this assignment. And judging by the look on his face, Falman knew exactly who it was on the other side of the line.

“Could you please go get him for me, Elric? Pretty, pretty, pretty pleeeeasee—”

*CLICK*

If there was anything Ed absolutely could not stand, it was the way his superior’s voice always seemed to chime whenever he needed something from him. He detested the way the man did anything, but it was times like these that truly made his blood boil. Thus, when the General came calling again, Ed refused to pick it up, forcing Falman to collect their instructions from him.

As they continued to walk, Falman tried to respond positively with, “I’m sure the general would be here if he wasn’t stationed all the way in Central.” But Ed merely scoffed. ‘Like hell he would.’ He thought to himself. The man rarely went anywhere unless he had someone to drive him.

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s just hurry and get this over with…”

***

KNOCK KNOCK…

“Mind if we come in?”

Two men in military uniforms stood squarely in the doorway to Berthold’s study. One of them was leaned up against the doorframe, while the other simply stood behind him. They had broken down the front door after knocking for about two minutes and had finally made their way upstairs. The air was incredibly tense, but Berthold did his best to look calm and at ease.

“Sorry to intrude. Your doorbell seemed to be broken so we let ourselves in.” The first officer said. “Are you Berthold Hawkeye?”

“That I am. And you are?” Berthold responded. The first officer didn’t even seem to register his question. As he stepped into the room, he kept his eyes fixed on Berthold, taking only a brief glance at the books on the ground before darting back up to his target.

“This is quite the office you have, Mr. Hawkeye. Messy.” His voice held a certain snark to it. When the other man stepped in, Berthold took note of how disheveled the two of them looked. One of them didn’t even have their uniform fully buttoned up. How unprofessional.

The first officer spoke up, “Mr. Hawkeye, are you aware that you are being pursued under suspicion of fleeing the military with state-owned materials?”

Berthold chuckled, “State materials? It’s my material — my research. The state has no right to what isn’t their’s.” The second officer moved to his desk. He kneeled down and pulled open a drawer with so much force that it moved the desk. Seeing him up close, the man was a lot bigger than first thought, Berthold noted. But that didn’t matter.

Down the hall, Roy carefully peered outside the bathroom, waiting and watching as the two men entered the study. He had managed to slip out before they broke down the door, but now he was busy trying to get Riza to come out of her room — emphasis on trying.

“Riza…!” Roy whispered across the hall from the bathroom. Still no response. “Riza, I know you can hear me…!!” Murmurs from the study carried down the hall. Berthold was trying to buy them some time so they could get out and leave but…

“Riza, please…! Answer!!”

“Go away,” her soft voice finally made an appearance. “You can leave if you want. I’m not going.” Roy felt like he was in a house full of crazy people. Why did no one in this family ever listen to him?

“What are you talk—Riza, listen. There’s two men who are here to take your dad away. We have to leave before they notice us! Riza. Riza, are you listening to me?!”

THUD!

The sound of a body hitting the floor shook Roy out of speaking.

What… What was that? His thoughts began searching for an answer when—

“Aw shit, now you’ve done it. Look he can barely stand now.”

No.

“It’s not my fault the old man’s so fragile. C’mon, let’s just get this over with and leave.”

“Fine, fine.”

All logic left Roy’s mind as he sped down the hall, circling into the room.

“Master?!” Roy looked to the floor to find his master doubled over on all fours, wheezing like he just had the wind knocked out of him. “MASTER!!”

The officers nearly jumped seeing Roy appear in front of them. They weren’t made aware there would be other people in the house.

Roy ran to Berthold’s side to support him into an upright position. “Master, what happened? Did these men hurt you? Are you alright?!”

“You… fool… Why did you come out?” Berthold wheezed.

“Are you related to this boy?” The second officer asked. It was then that Roy noticed one of the officers was brandishing a knife.

Something wasn’t right. In fact, none of this seemed right.

When Roy still lived with his foster mother, he got to witness men getting arrested nearly every week for all kinds of different things. Assault, robbery; it didn’t matter what it was. When the cops came, the process was always the same: they had to read the man his rights, and say he has a right to a lawyer and a bunch of other stuff that he forgot. Bottom line was that he vaguely knew what an arrest should look like and this — none of this aligned with what he remembered.

They didn’t even identify themselves, Roy had just realized. Wasn’t that something they had to do before they did anything else?

Strangely enough, the more Roy looked at them the more they looked like thugs in costumes than actual military officers. Their uniforms didn’t even seem to fit them right at all; one of the clasps on the second officer’s jacket hung completely loose.

“I’ll only ask one more time — are you related to this boy?”

Roy felt a shiver down his spine as he made eye contact with the man holding the knife.

What should I do?

Chapter Text

It didn’t take very long for Berthold to realize that the men who had arrived at his home were not in fact military. From the way they carried themselves, down to the manner in which they spoke; indeed, from the moment they stepped into his study, he knew.

These men weren’t here for his research — they were here for his life.

Whoever dressed them up must have been someone close to him along the military chain who knew about what he was researching and the potential it carried. He stifled a laugh, only to wince from the pain radiating from his abdomen. It was a completely ridiculous theory but it was the only rational one he could think of. There was only one person capable of pointing such a spiteful act against him. But he couldn’t dwell on that right now. Right now, he had to get Roy out of the room and away from these men.

“I’ll only ask one more time — are you related to this boy?”

Berthold replied, “No, he’s just my errand boy. He has nothing to do with me. I told him to leave.”

Berthold gave Roy a glaring look but the boy was too busy calculating their escape in his head.

The naive fool, Berthold thought with a sigh.

As the boy’s master, he knew better than anyone what cogs were spinning in that round head of his. Solve the problem — solve it; such were the thoughts that fed on what remained of Roy’s logical reasoning. It couldn’t be helped. The boy had a habit of dedicating himself to problems that were never meant to be fixed.

The second officer stepped forward. He grabbed Roy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up to his feet.

“Should listen to your elders, kid.” The man said, his voice low.

Roy scoffed, “Why should I?”

A searing pain suddenly burned across Roy’s face. His vision blurred as he felt his head hit the ground. The man above him grabbed his head firmly holding down into the floorboards.

What just… happened?

“STOP!” Berthold yelled, grabbing onto the first officer. “I told you, he is nothing to me! There’s no reason to involve—”

The officer quickly shook off Berthold’s grip and struck him clean across the face, sending him flying back towards the ground. A small dribble of blood spread across the floor.

Seeing his master’s body land right in front of him, Roy’s senses quickly came back to him.

“Ungh… Get… OFF ME!!” Roy swung his elbow back as hard as he could, hitting the man in the groin, causing him to loosen his grip. Without a second to lose, Roy scrambled to his feet. His heart was racing. What could he do right now in this moment? He moved to go grab his master off the floor when he suddenly felt himself being yanked back by the shirt.

A cold hardness pressed against his neck bringing him to a halt. The first officer held him in place.

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” The man hummed. His face was so close to Roy’s he could practically feel him breathing into his ear. “Now, I want you to answer truthfully, kid. Are you, or are you not, this man’s servant?”

Roy gulped down the lump growing in his throat.

Something about the way in which this man spoke intimidated Roy more than the other officer who had just punched him across the face. He spoke in a softer, yet more sinister tone; it felt as if his words were coiling around him like a viper waiting to strike.

Roy had to choose his next words very carefully.

“…I- I… I just—”

The man pressed again, “I’m waiting.” Beads of sweat ran down Roy’s forehead. He didn’t know what to say — what would get him and his master out of this situation? Think… THINK!

Growing impatient, the officer lightly poked the knife against Roy’s chin and swiped it across leaving a small red cut behind. The cut itself was abysmally shallow, barely drawing any blood. But the sensation was enough to cause Roy serious panic, leading to him blurting out the first thing he could think of that would save his life.

“Y… YES! Th- that’s why I called him master! ’Cause I’m his servant. Nothing more.”

Guilt immediately began to fester in Roy’s mind. He hated lying, but not so much out of principle; the boy was simply terrible at telling lies.

“Oh, is that right?” The officer cooed. “Wow, he must be a really old fashioned bastard then, huh? Making you call him master and all that.” Satisfied, the officer threw Roy to the ground, landing him right next to Berthold. It seems his desperation had paid off, but now what? What should I do?

“I suggest you scram kid. Now. This doesn’t concern you.” The officer gave him a hardened look.

Roy huffed. Like hell it didn’t.

Roy turned his head over towards Berthold and was surprised to see his master’s eyes wide with intent. He thought something might be wrong until the man darted his gaze down to his left prompting Roy to look in that direction: it was his journal, the one he had shown Roy earlier. It was lying open right next to him, with a loose page that held a small array on it.

What is that? Does he have a plan?

Roy shot Berthold a look of concern as if to communicate those very questions to him, but the man simply sharpened his gaze and commanded him firmly.

“Leave,” he said. “Now, boy.”

Berthold watched as his young apprentice took in his words with a look of rejection in his eyes. He clenched his small fists in frustration. There was nothing more he could do here. He was utterly useless in a situation like this. He was powerless in the face of two overpowering adults.

What Berthold had in mind was a last minute resort. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if it would work properly, if it even worked at all. If his estimations were correct, he’d be able to buy them some time — at least enough time for the children to escape. The only thing he was sure about was that if he were to do this, he needed Roy to be out of the room in case things went wrong.

All he could do now was hope that the boy’s unwavering obedience to him hadn’t waned just yet.

And to his relief, Roy moved.

Despite the dizziness that plagued him as he stood up, Roy moved towards the door without pause or hesitation. He hung his head low out of shame but he obeyed nonetheless. Any thoughts of ‘What if I…’ and ‘Maybe I could…’ were now draining out of his head as a dose of reality set in.

He was useless.

It felt as if the whole world could hear his own guilt spilling out of him. Every creak from his footsteps and every breath that he took felt louder and heavier than the last. There was nothing he could do. All he could do now was place his trust in his master and leave this situation in his hands.

Stopping in the doorway, Roy took one last look back at his master. His body looked so small and frail, hunched over on the ground, much like a bug that’s been stepped on but persists to writhe in place.

“Get Riza,” Berthold mouthed to him.

That’s right, Roy remembered. I have to get Riza. We have to get out of here. Together.

While it wasn’t enough to fully erase his guilt, the thought of Riza being nearby gave Roy a sense of purpose that allowed him to step out of the room in stride. This was something only he could do.

Without hesitation, he booked it down the hallway.

“See? I told you,” The first officer sneered. “No matter how hard they try to be bigger than they are, children will always be children. Now, where were we?”

Berthold gave the officer a snide smirk before hastily reaching for the page out of his journal. Before the officers could even register what he was doing, Berthold quickly slammed the page down onto the floor activating the circle on it. And just as quickly as it lit up the room, flames came bursting out of the air hitting the first officer square in the face.

Down the hall, Roy furiously shook the handle to Riza’s room.

“RIZA!! OPEN UP — WE HAVE TO GO!! WE HAVE TO GO NOW!!!” He shouted, continuously banging on the door.

A deafening silence answered him.

“RIZA!!” Roy kicked the door in a feeble attempt to break it down. His patience was growing thin and his annoyance was reaching a breaking point. At this point, he might as well have been speaking to a wall.

“Are you really just gonna sit there and let your dad die?!”

… Nothing.

Roy paced around with his hands on his head, groaning in frustration. He wasn’t strong enough to break down the door. It would be a waste of time for him to try hitting it anymore than he has. He had to think of a different way to get her to come out of her room; what could he say that would bring her outside? Think, damn it…! What can I do right now—

“AAAAAGGGHH—!!” A blood curdling scream broke through the air.

Roy’s head snapped towards the study.

Oh no.

Fearing who would come out, Roy kept his eyes glued to the entrance of the study. To his relief and horror, one of the officers came stumbling out holding his hands to his face screaming in agony.

“YOU FUCKING— SON OF A BITCH!!” The man cursed.

Roy couldn’t even tell which of the officers he was, but as the man turned around, Roy’s hand jumped to cover his mouth.

His face… was melting into his own hands.

The officer stumbled around blindly before hitting the railing and dropping to the floor. His terrible cries filled the air with a sense of dread Roy had never experienced before. He’d never seen anyone die before. Was this man really about to die in front of him? Roy shuffled a few steps forward in an attempt to get a closer look, only to reel back in horror at the sight of the officer’s melting flesh. He held back the urge to throw up and stumbled back towards Riza’s door. The smell was unlike anything Roy had ever encountered before; the smell of ash, burning flesh, and blood.

“Riza? I- I really think we really need to go now…” Roy’s voice quivered as he called out to her.

At this point, Roy wasn’t even talking to Riza anymore. He was simply addressing the door with the mental assurance that her small frame sat behind it. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t listening — it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t answer. As long as Roy believed she was behind that door, some part of him felt comforted and safe.

Slumped against Riza’s door, Roy watched as the officer on the ground continued to writhe in agony. The man’s voice was beginning to grow quieter, smaller which meant he was either dying or passing out from the pain. Roy felt a mix of sympathy and fear stir in his stomach. The pain must have been unimaginable.

For a while, all Roy could do was stare until he heard his master’s voice carry into the hallway.

“Augh!” Berthold grunted as he came tumbling out of the room, his journal flying out of his hands. Roy saw him from across the way: he was wheezing, clearly suffering from another attack. Blood dripped from his lips as he coughed, the sight of which sent Roy’s mind into a frenzy.

“MASTER!!” Roy started to move forward but stopped when he remembered who sat behind the door next to him. His master had asked him to do this one thing for him and he couldn’t even do that. His mind began to panic. What do I do, what do I do…! The boy stood paralyzed between the two most important people in his life.

“You sick bastard,” the second officer huffed as he stepped out of the study.

While the man was no doubt suffering from a large burn on the side of his face, his wounds weren’t nearly as severe as his partner who had stilled on the floor next to them. The man took a quick glance at said partner and sighed. Whether he was dead or alive made no difference to him. All of his focus remained solely on their target.

Berthold stumbled back on all fours. With what little strength he had left, he crawled backwards keeping his eyes locked on the remaining officer. He coughed up another glob of bloody spit and spat it out next to him. Unbeknownst to Roy, the blood was merely another symptom of his condition; not a result of any new wounds.

Continuing his ramble back, he eventually hit the railing by the stairs.

What now…? Berthold’s eyes darted around before landing on his journal next to the officer’s foot. He attempted to reach for it, but the officer stamped down on his hand, kicking the book down the opposite end of the hall. The same foot then met Berthold’s stomach and ribcage. Over and over, he kicked the older man until a smaller body rammed into his side causing him to topple over.

Roy grabbed his master by the arm and began dragging him away. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the door to his friend’s room down. So at least… At least he could do this.

“Roy… Get Riza… Leave me… behind…” Berthold breathlessly sputtered out.

Black spots were starting to eat away at his vision; his hearing was shot, and his chest burned with immense pain. He wasn’t even sure at this point if the pain he felt was from his illness or from the trauma he had just suffered. Either way, he was of no use to anyone at this point.

“Would you stop… saying that already!” Roy’s voice grew tired and annoyed. “I told you… I’m going to get you out of here, so quit being difficult…!”

Roy’s arms burned with every tug. His strength was beginning to wear out and they were nearing the end of the hall. Panicked, he took a quick glance back at the officer who was following them from behind. His eyes locked onto Roy’s causing him to flinch and trip over his own feet.

No, no, no, no, no…!

The officer watched as the young boy struggled to pull the older man with him down the hall. It was like watching a wounded animal struggle to limp away in the face of a stalking predator. All it did was delay the inevitable; it was a pathetically futile response.

“Are we done playing games now?” The officer asked sternly. Roy’s insides nearly turned to ice as he watched the officer pull out his partner’s knife.

Taking another step forward, the officer relished in watching the boy shuffle away from him, letting out small fearful grunts as his master remained deathly still in his arms. The officer flipped the knife around his fingers with a smile.

Nothing was stopping him from taking his time.

After all, he had no reason to rush. His job was secured. This man, Hawkeye, and his weakling of a servant, were reaching a dead end and would soon be at his mercy. Not to mention, he would now receive full-payment on part of his partner being put out of commission. There was no sign of failure at this point.

Roy felt his breath hitch at the back of his throat. Fear weighed heavy on his chest causing his heart to sputter and beat uncontrollably. He couldn’t lift his master or pull him any further because he was weak. Too weak to carry his master to safety; too weak to break down the door to his friend’s room; too weak to save anyone; too weak to even save himself.

All he could do was sit there and wait to die.

So that’s what he did.

Like a child anticipating the prick of a needle, Roy reached for his master’s hand, squeezing it as tightly as he could. He knew Berthold wouldn’t return his grasp but that didn’t matter; he just didn’t want to be alone when it happened.

Roy flinched as he felt the officer swirl the tip of his knife around the top of his head. He was teasing him. This was it. His short sixteen year old life would end and nothing he did will have mattered to anyone.

One swift motion and he would be dead. At least, he hoped it would be instant. Surely a knife to the head would kill you instantly, right?

Then, before his thoughts could spiral any further, Roy heard the creak of a door opening behind him.

Disbelief washed away all the anxiety in the boy’s head. You have got to be kidding me.

Roy slowly turned back to see the familiar blonde head of his friend poking out from behind the door. At this point, he wasn’t even sure if he was relieved or immensely annoyed to see her. But as her head came out further, he quickly noticed her eyes were immensely red and puffy. Roy felt a pang of guilt creep up on him. She's been crying.

Riza, having not seen any of the current events unfold, had no idea what to expect when she turned to look down the hallway. She certainly didn’t expect her heart to drop as she saw the man who raised her — the man she lived in constant fear of — slumped over in her friend’s arms with blood dribbling down his chin.

And as if on auto-pilot, her soft voice called out to him in a way Berthold hadn’t heard in years.

“F- father…?”

Berthold’s head instinctively turned towards the sound of his daughter’s voice. Some mixture of guilt, regret, and relief washed over him as he took in the sad look in her eyes.

Noticing her frozen state, Roy screamed, “RIZA—RUN!!”

The officer flinched, startled by the appearance of yet another unknown.

“Oh for fuck’s sake — what now?!” The man bellowed causing Riza to snap out of her trance. The small girl quickly backed up against the wall realizing the man was holding a knife to Roy’s head. Her knees became wobbly as she slumped to the ground, her mouth agape in fear.

Taking advantage of her sudden appearance, Roy took a moment to look at his surroundings. The officer stood a foot away from them. If he could muster up one last bit of strength, maybe he and Riza could pull Berthold into her room. Then, they could use the furniture to barricade the door and…

Oh?

All thoughts sapped from Roy’s mind as his eyes landed on his master’s journal. The book lay open just behind the officer’s feet. It was opened to a page with a strange array on it — one he had never seen before.

Two steps. And he could reach it.

Without another second thought, Roy quickly dove through the officer’s legs, tearing the open page out of the journal.

Save them, save them — I can save everyone…!

By the time Berthold raised his head to see what his apprentice was doing, it was already too late to stop him. It took the older alchemist mere seconds to recognize the array Roy had teared out causing him to shake his head.

The fool… He’ll kill us all.

It would seem he really hadn’t taught the boy anything after all.

And yet, despite accepting the reality of their situation, Berthold felt his stomach tighten with fear. He didn’t want the boy to suffer from his own ignorance. He didn’t want to see him die. He was worried for Roy’s wellbeing.

He cared about this boy.

With that realization set in his mind, Berthold felt every muscle, every cell in his body push himself forward to shield his ignorant apprentice from the blast. If he could do anything for the boy now, he could at least save his life.

Thus, the last thing Roy saw before the blast was his master pushing him away before the light from the transmutation consumed the room, blinding everyone in its wake.

***

11:38 am — Fueller St.

“Looks like this is it.” Ed squinted down at a crudely-drawn map on a napkin, matching the intersection on it to their current location.

The General had given them rough directions on where to find Hawkeye’s safe house over the phone, allowing Ed to scribble them down based on Falman’s relay of their phone call. Where Avery had procured this information was a mystery to both Falman and Edward; but at this point, they had been walking far too long for Ed to even consider the possibility of their intel being wrong.

All he could think about was finding Hawkeye and going back home to sleep. He hadn’t been sleeping well as of late, but such was usually the case when he was away from home. It was hard for him to sleep in a bed that wasn’t his own.

Ed shoved the napkin back into his pocket. As he stretched his arms above his head, he could feel the sweat collecting on his back dampen against his shirt. The air had been grossly damp up until an hour ago due to the rain they experienced this morning. At least now the sun had come out and begun to dry out the air.

Ed glanced over to his partner, noticing his posture was more tense than usual.

“What’s wrong, sergeant? You nervous?” Ed asked.

“Ah, it’s nothing. It just… feels weird having to arrest one of our own, you know?” Falman said a bit solemnly. “I worked with Mr. Hawkeye — granted only a few times but… he didn’t seem like the kinda guy to cause trouble for no reason.”

Ed could understand that. It was weird. Not just the idea of apprehending another colleague, but the facts of the case itself. He’d heard about Hawkeye from a number of his superiors, and all of them spoke very highly of him — especially Avery.

“If he wasn’t such a sour puss, he’d make the perfect soldier.”

Ed recalled his superior saying more about the difference between a good soldier and a good alchemist but he couldn’t be bothered to remember that right now. All he knew for sure was that Hawkeye’s research and alchemic knowledge were supposedly unparalleled, even amongst state alchemists. It didn’t surprise Ed in the slightest that an alchemist of his calibre would want to keep his work secret. That much made sense to him.

What was strange was how open he was with it before. That the man went from working so closely with the military corp — including the President — to fleeing the military with it…

Ed could only wonder: what did he discover for him to have such a strong change of heart?

As they grew closer to their destination, Ed couldn’t help but notice how different Hawkeye’s house looked in comparison to all the other houses.

It stood on its own at the end of the street with no other houses beside it, and there was an insane level of overgrowth in regards to both the yard and ivy that fed upon its walls. The house screamed social reject. The stares Falman and Ed garnered for even approaching it only confirmed its reputation amongst the neighbours.

Ed suddenly felt a nudge on his shoulder.

“Hey Major, did we call for support from the police?”

Ed replied, “No? I don’t remember asking for police. Why?” Falman pointed at the uniformed officer standing outside the house.

Great. An anomaly. He thought to himself. “Better ask why he’s here. I’ll scope out the sides of the house.”

Rubbing his hands together nervously, Falman approached the officer. “Excuse me? Sir?” The officer turned around upon being called.

“Well, now this is unexpected. What brings you boys in blue out here? You out scoping the neighbourhood?” The officer asked.

Ed walked around to the side of the house. He carefully stepped over the large weeds, quietly cursing to himself as his pant leg got stuck on some of the brambles. Reaching the wall, Ed ran his gloved hands across the ivy-covered brick. He knew Hawkeye was a pretty capable alchemist. He didn’t put it past him to set a few traps for them to run into — or to have a secret entrance somewhere along the wall. He just had to look for any transmutation marks like they had apparently found in his office.

“Actually, we’re looking for someone who lives at this address. Maybe you’ve seen him?” Falman reached into his pocket to pull out the photo they had of Hawkeye when a man’s scream suddenly rang out from inside the house. Both Falman and the officer jumped at the sound. Their heads slowly turned towards the source of the noise.

“What the hell was that? Was that one of you?” Ed called back to them.

“N- no, sir!” Falman said. “I think it came from inside the house.” Ed made his way back around in a huff.

Great. More anomalies.

Coming up next to Falman, Ed took a moment to get a good look at the house from the front yard.

Huh. That’s weird.

The front door looked like it had been broken down.

Ed slowly turned towards the officer with them and questioned him directly. “Officer, may I ask, who exactly called you out here?”

The officer looked concerned all of a sudden. “One of the neighbours claimed to have spotted a pair of suspicious individuals walking around the neighbourhood, and a bystander saw them approaching the house… Why?”

Ed didn’t like where this was going.

“And how long ago was that?”

“Hm, let’s see… Uhh, maybe about… ten minutes ago?”

**BOOM!!**

Heat.

Intense heat.

Hot flaming bursts of orange and yellow came spraying out of the house, shattering the glass of the top floor windows.

Ed couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The entire top half of the house had just… burst into flames. Falman and the other officer were left just as shellshocked, as were a couple of the neighbours who just happened to be walking by at the time of the blast.

Nobody in the vicinity could move. It was all they could do to stand in shock and awe of what they had just witnessed.

After about fifteen-seconds, Ed was the first to snap out of the bystander’s trance. He had only caught a glimpse of it, but the light that came shining out of the windows just before the blast told him this was an alchemic-explosion.

Someone inside must’ve set it off on purpose; and that someone was most likely their target.

Ed grabbed the officer by the shoulders and yelled in his face, “How many people are inside?!”

The officer stumbled over his words, “I-I- I’m not sure! I- I imagine it would just be the two individuals and y- your man in there, right?”

Ed looked back towards the burning house. He didn’t want to think that Hawkeye was the one responsible for blowing up his own house, but who knows. Alchemists were weird like that. If cornered, they’d do unspeakable things to get what they desire. Looking up, Ed noticed the crowd that had started to form around the house and decided to take some action.

He stepped forward and called out to the crowd, “Has anyone called fire services yet?!”

A young woman came running in, shouting, “Yes, yes! I did, I called!! They’re on their way right now! They said they’ll be here in ten minutes!”

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes wasn’t enough fast enough for Ed’s liking.

Ed bit his lip in frustration. What was the situation inside? What could he do right now, in this moment to help? Hawkeye was still inside, possibly burning to death as they spoke, with two unknowns who were there for who knows what. There wasn’t enough time — he didn’t have enough information.

He decided.

He was going in.

As if catching onto Ed’s thoughts, Falman grabbed his partner by the arm stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t do it,” he warned. Ed narrowed his eyes. He knew what a stupid idea it was. But his conscience wouldn’t let him stand there waiting for someone else to come — waiting while someone could be burning to death. Forget the research, forget Avery — he wasn’t going to let someone die while he stood outside waiting for help.

It took the collective strength of both the  officer and the Master Sergeant to hold Edward back from entering the burning house.

“Please, major!” Falman pleaded. “We have—we have to wait for the fire department to arrive! Please!! You can’t go in there!!”

Ed struggled against them. “Like hell I can’t!!”

With one swift motion, Ed pushed the two men out of the way and marched towards the flame engulfed house. He slowed his approach as he reached the entryway; the heat told him he couldn’t go any further without melting his face off. Shit. Now what?

Then, out of the corner of his eye…

“Oh my god.”

There was a man inside trying to hobble down the staircase. Shaking himself out of astonishment, Ed called out to him. “Come on, come on—OVER HERE!! THIS WAY!!”

Ed frantically waved his arms hoping to catch the man’s attention. The man looked up — he saw him. There was still a chance for him to make it out of this mess alive. The man started to make his way towards the entrance when—

CRACK…!

The man stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly tilting his gaze up, he stood there frozen in fear, as people in peril so often do. Parts of the ceiling were beginning to give way; pieces of it were coming down in flames. He had seconds to get out before the ceiling would cave in, trapping him inside or crushing him totally.

Ed’s eyes went wide with fear. On sheer impulse, he leaned in with his right arm to reach for the man, only to be pulled back by Sergeant Falman.

“Major Elric! Please!!” Falman cried out as he attempted to pull his partner back to safety. Tugging on his uniform, one of Ed’s sleeves got pulled back revealing a strange steel bracelet around his left wrist with a glowing green light on it. Catching sight of it, Ed bitterly remembered:

“No hands, okay? That’s the deal.”

SNAP…!

But the ceiling was about to cave in.

“Augh—DAMN IT!!” Ed slapped his hands together and quickly slammed them into the ground, transmuting a large hand to catch the falling rubble and fire. He’d deal with the consequences later, if they appeared at all.

The man stood paralyzed beneath the giant hand bracing for the impact — only to look up and see that he was still alive somehow.

“Wha…”

“QUIT GAWKING AND GET MOVING, YOU IDIOT!!!” Ed thrust his right hand into the heat to grab the man by the collar. With Falman pulling him from behind, the two of them were able to haul the man out just before the transmuted hand gave way and collapsed before them.

Embers flew through the air as the wooden support beams in the house came crashing down one by one. The three men, meanwhile, lay breathless on the ground. An anxious laugh left Ed’s system.

“Never do that again. Please.” Falman breathed out, tears poking at the corners of his eyes from the smoke.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I promise to only run into non-burning houses from now on.” Ed replied with a cheeky grin. Falman sighed.

Ed quickly sat up to take a good look at their man. “Berthold Hawkeye” in the flesh; he was certainly a lot bigger than what Ed expected.

“Geez, for a researcher you sure are stocky.” Ed said with a light chuckle. The man remained silent. He looked unsure of what to say.

“Uh, Major?” Falman attempted to call out to his partner but the fool was too busy savouring in their victory. “Major, I think we have a—”

“Ugh, and here I thought this was gonna be a hard job, but man — it’s over — we did it! Ahahaha!!” Ed cheered, practically leaping with joy. “Ha haha ha… That damn mullet-wearing freak…! He thought he could ruin my day by assigning me to this? Nope. Not today — not today, you self-righteous son of a bitch…!!”

Falman could only watch as his partner spiralled into one of his classic post-shift manic highs. The young Major was, above all else, a homebody, who often spent most of his time counting down the hours, minutes, seconds to the end of the day. He hated working, and he hated work; thus, when quittin’ time came, Ed was always the first one out the door.

The Sergeant struggled to pick a moment to interject. “Major Elric, this man is—”

“Avery can go shove it up his ass for all I care — this baby’s goin’ home EARLY TONIGHT—”

“MAJOR ELRIC.” Falman’s voice harshened, or at least tried to. “This man isn’t ‘our man’. Look.”

Falman pulled out the photo of Hawkeye and held it next to their victim’s face.

It was a completely different person. This was just some random military guy. And just as quickly as it began, Ed’s manic high was sent plummeting back down to Earth in a fiery blaze of despair.

***

12:46 pm

Tac…! Tac, tac… tac…

Ed’s eyes followed as the pebble he kicked bounced, tumbled, and settled on the road a few feet ahead of him. He stared at it with empty emotion, feeling nothing in particular as he shuffled his boot around to find another small stone to kick.

Tac, tac, tac…!

He sighed. Boredom was beginning to eat away at him. He took a seat on the curb.

It had been thirty minutes since the fire department had arrived and twenty minutes since Sergeant Falman left to go find a bathroom. Despite the fires being put out, smoke still carried through the air, just not as thickly as before. The crowd had mostly dispersed but a few bystanders remained at the scene, still talking to the police.

Ed glanced over to see the paramedics tending to their sole survivor. He had a scathing burn across the side of his face and a few more across his body. Falman and Ed couldn’t question him for too long without him wincing in pain, so they left him alone for now and agreed to continue their interrogation when he was admitted to a proper hospital.

The paramedics were starting to pack up their things. It seemed like they’d be taking their leave sooner than later.

Ed huffed. I should probably go over there and ask them what hospital they’re taking him to, he thought to himself. But, he didn’t move. His thoughts failed to translate into any sort of action as he contemplated the loss of his early clock-out and the impending lecture that awaited him back in Central.

Regardless of the reality of their situation, the fact remained that they failed to recover anything from the fire, Hawkeye included. He groaned at the thought of having to be the one to tell General Avery the news. It didn’t matter that they didn’t get there in time, or that there was nothing else they could do; they didn’t get results. And nothing was worse than coming back empty handed in the eyes of their superior. Even bringing back a shoe would’ve been more better than nothing.

At least he could make Falman draft the report, as he so often did when the two of them worked together. Falman had once told Ed that he enjoyed doing paperwork, preferring it to being out in the field. This made him a strong partner to have when you hated sitting at a desk and hated doing paperwork.

The two, thus, filled in where the other preferred not to, making their partnership a fairly even one.

Ed stared down the street, waiting for his partner to return. A light breeze had begun to waft through the air; the smell of smoke and ash following its trail.

The neighbourhood had fallen quiet once more. The street was left empty, aside from the occasional bystander who stopped to stare at the house before moving on with their day.

Fiery blaze aside, this is a pretty nice neighbourhood, Ed thought to himself. Being trapped in the city made him miss the quiet comforts of home, where the loudest thing you’d hear was a dog barking or the sound of children’s laughter. There was a warmth in the air back home that simply wasn’t there whenever he returned to Central.

I should call when I get back and plan to visit them sometime soon. He thought, resting his chin on his hands.

***

Ed began to tap his foot impatiently.

This is taking way too long for a bathroom break.

Ed pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open: 12:51 pm. He slammed it shut.

His foot was starting to get sore from all the tapping he was doing but there was little else for him to do here. He had kicked away all the rocks, and counted every dog and squirrel that went past him. He was getting bored and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last.

Ed began to wonder if Falman had succeeded in finding a bathroom and was simply taking his time, or if he was going to get a frantic call from his partner asking for a new pair of trousers.

Either way, Ed was tired and just about ready to call it quits when…

Screeeech…

Ed looked up to see a black car stopped in right front of him.

… No. It couldn’t be.

Although Ed wasn’t tall enough to see the face of the passenger from the curb, he could see the top of their head; that wretched tuft of pulled back, black hair could only belong to one person.

“Fucking hell…” Ed dropped his head to his knees.

“There he is~!” General Avery poked his head out of the vehicle with a big toothy grin. “What’s wrong, Elric? Don’t tell me you aren’t happy to see me.”

Ed scowled, “What the hell are you doing here, General? I thought you said you were too busy for this mission.” Avery popped open the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk.

“What? Am I not allowed to check in on my favourite little major?” Avery sneered, standing behind him.

Ed wondered how much overtime he’d have to pay if he gave one swift punch to the man’s lower regions but quickly buried the thought. Struggling to turn and face him from the curb, Ed shot Avery a half-glance from below. He couldn’t stand how the man loomed over him with his gargantuan height, so he quickly scrambled up to his feet to stand next to him on the sidewalk.

Avery, of course, clocked this immediately and cheekily stepped down off the curb, lowering himself to match the younger man’s height.

“Better?”

“I’ll kill you, you know that?” Ed’s words always carried a sort of bite to them whenever he spoke with his superior. It wasn’t something he took pride in or did on purpose. It simply came out on instinct.

“Oh really?” The General chuckled. “I’d like to see that someday. But first…” Avery suddenly grabbed Ed by the wrist, hoisting it into the open air. “Mind explaining, this?”

The Major struggled to keep his balance as Avery ran his thumb over Ed’s bracelet: the light on it had now turned red instead of green.

“Shit,” Ed cursed quietly. “I guess it really does work.” Avery threw his arm back and immediately held his fingers to his nose in frustration.

“Ohh, Elric… I swear — I give you an inch... And you take a fuckin’ mile with it. Always. It never fails. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point.” The General leaned up against the car. “You better have a damn good excuse for the committee, Edward. Otherwise I might be forced to suspend you.”

Suspension. Now that would be nice. Three years ago that word would’ve terrified him to bits, but now, the idea of being forced to not work sounded heavenly.

Gauging how the situation was going, namely the plummeting of Avery’s mood, the driver decided to come out of the car and make her appearance: a darker skinned woman with long dark hair and red eyes; Second Lieutenant Olsen, or Lusha as the men in the office knew her by.

Seeing her rear around the car gave Ed some instant relief. At least with her here, the General would be less likely to throw a tantrum; the man had some strange rule about not losing his cool in front of women or something.

Avery shook his head in disbelief. “Lusha, can you believe this guy? I told him—I told him. The bracelet. Works. And what does he go do? He goes and starts slappin’ his hands together and shit. I mean, God…” The man furiously kicked one of the car tires. “—DAMN IT, ELRIC!!”

The sound of Avery’s raging voice carried far enough for some of the bystanders to hear causing some of them to disperse. Seeing this, Lusha came up beside Avery, placing a hand on his shoulder to lower his ear down to her level.

“General, there are other people here around us right now. Witnesses who most likely saw the fire. You don’t want to scare them away without questioning them, now do you?” Lusha asked in that calm and soothing tone of her’s. Avery’s shoulders suddenly went slack.

“Agh, yeah-yeah… You’re right…” He sounded off in a low embarrassed hum. Without missing a beat, he turned back around to face his subordinate with an overly toothy grin. “Whoops! Guess I lost my temper a bit there, heh. Sorry about that. What were we talking about?”

It was a miracle how quickly Lusha was able to defuse the man’s temper. There was a certain softness to the way she spoke that seemed to calm even the most aggressive men on their worst days, which was a very valuable asset in a workplace filled with overly aggressive men.

Responding to Avery’s question, Ed replied, “We were talking about why you came all the way out here. Sir.”

“AH! That’s right. The reason I came here was to see some of the action. That, and to pick up my prize of course. So!” Avery clapped his hands together. “Where is it?

Ed tilted his head in confusion. “Don’t you mean, he?”

“Sure. Where is he? Where is that middle-aged bastard?”

“He’s dead.”

Avery blinked. “… Come again?”

Ed sighed and responded, “There was only one guy who managed to survive the fire. We don’t know who he is, but I have a feeling he knows more than he wants to let on. The other two bodies were left charred by the fire on the second floor. I think we can assume one of them was Hawkeye, but we’ll have to wait on dental to be sure. Everything else was lost to the fire.”

Everything else. The chipper look on Avery’s face stayed but his eyes darkened.

Ed didn’t want to have to spell it out for him but this was his way of telling him that all of Hawkeye’s research was gone. Any literature or materials he may have had were now completely lost and irretrievable. Perhaps this really was the man’s last attempt to protect his work from falling into the hands of the military, as insane as it was.

Avery pushed through the frail wooden gate and took a moment to take in the sight. It really was a mess of a house. From the weeds to the long grass, and to the now burned and wrecked home. Everything was gone. And what a shame that was.

“The sneaky bastard. I didn’t think he had it in him,” Avery sounded off. “To think he’d have the balls to torch himself and his kid just to get away from me. I’m almost touched.” Avery’s tone wavered between sounding impressed to falling flat and hard on his last statement.

“What?” Ed’s words came out less as a question than it was an accusation. “His kid? What the hell are you talking about?”

Avery turned to face his junior. He gave a gentle sinister smile.

“Oh, you didn’t know? Hawkeye has a little girl. Well, “had” I guess would be the better term to use here. Why? Does that make you uncomfortable, Elric?”

Ed felt his stomach turn and twist itself into a knot. Uncomfortable wasn’t the right word. Disgusted and horrified maybe, but he was more so angry that Avery hadn’t mentioned a thing about this. In fact, it left Ed furious.

“You didn’t think to mention this before?” Ed’s eyes darkened. But before the situation could escalate any further, a familiar set of frantic footsteps came running down the street.

“Ahh sorry—sorry, I’m late!” Sergeant Falman came running in behind them. Ed’s gaze softened. If Falman was back then that meant Ed could finally go home, and thank god for that.

“What was the hold up? Did you fall in or something?” Ed asked.

“Oof, thankfully no… You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to find a bathroom around here. First, I tried to go into a coffee shop but you had to be a customer to use their bathroom, so I went somewhere else—but then, as I was leaving that place, they demanded I had to buy something too—and the problem you see was that I had no money! So I basically had to…” Falman’s ramble came to a sudden halt as his eyes landed on Avery.

“AH— B- B- Brigadier General Avery!! I wasn’t expecting you would be here. It’s good to see you, sir!”

The General’s eyes lit up like a christmas tree.

“FINALLY, at least someone here enjoys my company.” He said with a pout, shooting a childish glare at his other two subordinates. Ed and Lusha paid him no mind, turning their gaze up and away, further aggravating the man. As Falman came up next to him, the General gave the young man a hard slap on the back earning a yelp out of him.

“I heard you boys caught the blaze just before it hit. What happened? You weren’t hurt at all were you? I heard a certain little Major was keen on burning himself alive instead of waiting for the firefighters to arrive.”

“Ah, yes, well—he was just trying to help…” Falman supposed. “And he did, of course. But he promised me, he wouldn’t do it again.”

Avery’s head turned like an owl till his gaze met Ed’s. “Did he now? My, my… Imagine making promises and planning to keep them. What. A. Novel. Concept.”

Ed scoffed while tugging down his left sleeve.

While there was no doubt that General Avery cared for his subordinates, there was a way in which he showered praise that irked the Major more than the others in their unit. It wasn’t fake, but rather over-sincere. It was a tone in his voice that demanded complete, genuine sincerity — which should not be confused for honesty. The man was far from honest. Truth be told, he was probably the most earnest liar Ed had come to know, if such a thing could exist.

“Welp. I guess our work is done here then. Have the officers search the rubble for any remnants of Hawkeye’s research. Anything we can get is worth saving at this point.”

“Wait!”

The three men turned to see their token survivor calling out to them. “Great, what does he want?” Avery snarled. He didn’t have time for this.

“It wasn’t just the old man and his daughter—” The man broke down into a fit of coughs, a symptom of the smoke inhalation he suffered from. “There was… a young boy there as well.”

Avery’s ears twitched.

“A boy? Was he a relative?”

The man shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. But he—he was the one… who blew up the house—with his alchemy…!”

Avery’s eyes widened.

“Really?” The General’s words came out slow but pointed. “Well, isn’t that something. Thanks for letting us know. We’ll be in touch.”

Another bout of coughs strained the man’s lungs bringing the paramedics running to his side. They carefully shuffled him away, stowing him into the back of the ambulance.

“That was unexpected. He didn’t mention anything about another kid when we…” Ed glanced up at his superior and flinched. The General had a crazed look about him — an expression he saved for only his most sinister plans.

Ed stowed his words away, and chose to remain silent.

Being around the General was often like being trapped in a room with a crazed animal. Excitement was neither a pleasure nor a safe feature for him to wear. If the man really were an animal, Ed was certain he’d be drooling all over the floor by now. The tint of his round glasses did nothing to hide the intense hunger in his gaze.

Seeing as the paramedics were about to leave, Avery called for second favourite junior.

“Fall-guy! Where are you?” Avery snapped his fingers scanning around for the Sergeant’s grey head 

Falman came in running, “Yes, sir?”

“I want you to go confirm the address of the hospital our man is going to be landing in. See if you can get a phone number as well. I’d like to keep a tight leash on him before we let him go.”

“R- right away, sir!” Falman snapped into a salut before quickly chasing down the ambulance.

“Alright now that that’s done…” The General slowly turned towards his other subordinate. “Elric!”

Ed groaned at the sound of his name being called.

“Yes?”

“You stay here and help them search the rubble.”

“What?! Why?”

“Because I said so.” Avery growled back. “I want you to look for any clues on the type of alchemy that was used here. Oh, and look for footprints while you’re at it.”

Ed narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “Footprints?”

Avery stepped forward towards Ed waving two fingers in his face. “You said there’s only been two bodies found, right? Did either of those bodies look like the bodies of two children?”

Realization quickly dawned on Ed’s face. ‘No, they didn’t.’ The two bodies they found clearly belonged to two adult males. If Hawkeye’s daughter and this young boy really were in the house at the time of the blast, then that would mean…

“We still have two fugitives on the loose. One of whom may know the secret to Berthold Hawkeye’s alchemic research. Do you understand what I’m getting at here?” Avery sharpened his gaze.

The smaller man nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Find him, Elric — and bring him to me.”

Chapter Text

Hot…

Burning…

It burns…

It—

Roy’s eyes snapped open. An immense wave of heat began to hit all his senses at once. His eyes stung. His skin was warm. The ceiling was full of smoke. Hot orange flames danced around him on the walls and ceiling. And the back of his head ached like  he had just hit something.

Upon sitting up, Roy felt a cough bubble up from his throat. The smoke swirling around him had invaded his lungs filling it with an unfamiliar burn that was also making his eyes water. What had even happened? How long was he out for? Roy tried to take another deep breath in only to cough again from the smoke. The heat from all around him was beginning to feel so intense he thought his skin might start melting away.

Then, before he could think any further, something hot brushed up against his foot.

Roy quickly reeled back at the sensation and glanced down to see something lying on the ground by his foot. Some kind of burning mound had been laid out in front of him this entire time.

What… is that?

Something was there. Something quite large. Some…

Roy’s thoughts suddenly spiked into a torrent of fear, horror, and disgust as his vision fully came to.

—One.

“AAAAAHHH!!” Roy’s scream echoed through the crisp morning air. His breaths came out loud and ragged, desperate for air as if he had been close to drowning. His eyes were left wide from the fear. His mind began to calm as his surroundings came into view: a dim, brick alleyway. He let out a sigh of relief.

A dream… It was just a dream.

Despite returning to reality, Roy’s hands continued to tremble. He grasped them into fists but they just wouldn’t seem to stop. The memory of what he saw was burned into his mind like afterimage. It appeared nearly every time he closed his eyes. What he saw— no. What he did. He clutched his chest as his anxiety began to spike again.

It was all his fault.

The boy curled up against the cold concrete ground. Replacing the false, yet incredibly vivid, heat he had felt in his dream was a cold dampness that ran right to his bones. He could barely remember where they were or how they got here. From the looks of it they were in the back of a small, dark alley. Tall brick walls surrounded them. Beat up, old garbage cans sat next to them. Although, the thought made his skin crawl, Roy wondered if any rats had run by them while they were sleeping. It certainly looked like they were in a place for rats to be.

Lying on his back, Roy stared up above the walls, catching the pale pinks of the early morning sky. He took a deep breath in — and then out. At least the air was clean.

Expecting his friend to still be asleep, Roy turned onto his side only to find a pair of big chestnut-coloured orbs staring back at him.

“Are you okay?” Riza asked him in a completely monotone voice.

“AAAHH!!” Roy screamed again. He quickly sat up with an embarrassed blush painted all over his face. “Wh- wh- what are you doing?! Why are you awake? Have you been watching me this whole time?!”

Riza slowly sat up, rubbing the part of her head that had been pressed against the ground.

“Mm, I dunno. You wouldn’t stop fidgeting in your sleep.” She said. “It’s hard to sleep next to someone who keeps moving around and making weird sounds like a baby.” Roy’s face turned bright red.

“Well, no one said you had to sleep right next to me,” The boy huffed. “If it bothered you so much, you could’ve just woke me up.”

Riza sat there and thought for a minute before responding. “Mm. S’okay. I didn’t really feel like sleeping anyways.” She pulled her knees into her chest, resting her chin on them.

Roy stared at her slightly annoyed but shrugged it off. Riza’s airy attitude always confused him. In fact, during the first few months of their friendship, he found it quite off-putting; but in a weird way, it was a nice reassurance that some things had stayed the same despite their circumstances. As he thought about it, a fervent growl emitted from the boy’s stomach.

Roy felt a hand on his belly and grumbled to himself. Ugh, it hasn’t even been a full day yet, he thought to himself cursing his own hunger. Another growl, this time from Riza’s stomach, hit the morning air. “You too, huh?”

Riza nodded, a slight tinge of pink dusting her cheeks. The young girl watched as Roy stood up to stretch his legs, wondering for a moment if she should say something.

“Do you…” She trailed off. Roy glanced down at her with a puzzled look.

“Do I what?”

Riza bit her lip before replying, “You… talk in your sleep… I didn’t know that you do that. Did you know that?” She asked.

Roy’s face went completely pale. He recalled the happenings of his dream and began to panic. Had he said something in his sleep? He’d never done that before, sleep-talking that is — at least not to his knowledge.

“…No, I didn’t know that actually. Uh, what did I say?”

Roy’s eyes remained fixed on Riza as he waited for her neutral expression to shift. He wasn’t sure if she would blame him for what happened at the house, or if she even knew that he was the one responsible. By the time Roy had reached her after the blast, she had already passed out, meaning she missed all of the remaining carnage. Like the bodies… He had no idea how she would react to her father being—

Riza shrugged. “I dunno, I wasn’t listening.”

With that, all of Roy’s pent up anxiety deflated rather anticlimactically. Of course she wasn’t listening. When did she ever listen to him.

Shaking off his irritation, Roy offered a hand down to Riza, helping her up to her feet. The two of them were still in their socks, covered head to toe in a light layer of black soot and dirt. They looked like a couple of abandoned orphans, which in a way, they were. After all, Roy had no idea where they were supposed to go from here. When he had fled the house with Riza in his arms, he simply ran in a single direction without a single thought of stopping. Where they were now was a complete mystery to both of them. However, it seemed like they had reentered the city which meant there was bound to be food nearby.

“Come on, we’ll have to find something to eat before we decide anything else.” Roy said. “The last thing I need is you passing out on me from starvation or something.”

The two children approached the edge of the alleyway where the sun began to hit their faces. Roy peeked his head out, scanning for any suspicious figures. He doubted anyone would have followed them, but that bit of paranoia kept him on his toes. At this point, he couldn’t be certain of anything going forward and he didn’t want to risk Riza’s safety either. Not to mention…

Roy looked down at his master’s journal gripped in his right hand; his master’s work had survived the fire, and he would protect it with his life.

Regardless, the street was empty, save for a young couple strolling by across the way. It was still fairly early after all. Businesses were just starting to open. However, the streets would get busy within the hour; they had to get moving if they wanted to remain unseen.

“Okay, I think we should go now. You, ready?” Roy waited for a response. “Riza?”

When he turned around he found his young friend staring at a cluster of ants crawling along the lower seams of the wall. She was crouched over, starting at them with a vacant gaze. Roy slapped a hand to his face in frustration.

“Let’s go, come on.” He said pulling at the collar of her sweater. Slightly panicked, Riza slapped his hand away a bit more aggressively than either of them expected. A split second look of fear flashed in her eyes as she whipped around to glare at Roy, who quickly stepped back with his hands up in arrest. “Um, sorry.” Riza said nothing in response.

She stood up, dusted her pants off and took hold of Roy’s hand, squeezing it tightly; a gesture that caused Roy’s heart to squeeze as well.

“I’m hungry,” she grumbled softly.

“Yeah, I know,” Roy responded, his tone, kind. “So let’s go.”

***

10:12 am — Central HQ.

Heavy, hurried footsteps carried down the hall as Major Elric stomped his way towards the elevator. He irritatedly tapped his foot waiting for the damn thing to arrive, and even more impatiently as the doors slowly slid open allowing a handful of officers to exit onto the floor. Once inside, he jabbed the second button from the top and pressed the button for the doors to close. But of course, as they slowly settled inward, a hand came jutting in giving way to another officer entering the elevator. Ed did his best to hide the annoyance in his voice as he asked the officer “What floor?” before punching the button and repeatedly hitting the close-door button again

He could only hope that they didn’t stop at anymore floors, but it would seem his luck was rotten as usual as they came to a halt on the very next floor. He began to tap his foot again.

Upstairs, in a room down the furthest hall, General Avery sat at a table waiting for his subordinate’s arrival.

He glanced at the clock: 10:17. They were coming up to twenty minutes. Avery stifled a sigh.

Avery knew that Ed was chronically late to fault which is why he never gave him assignments that required an early start — if you could really call 9 am an early wake up call. However, he wasn’t the one in charge of setting up today’s meeting. That would be the work of the fine gentleman sat across from him; a man known for his overly generous smiles, whose face remained stoically unimpressed as their time marched on.

“I see what you mean about mornings being a problem for him.” General Raven’s voice came out kind, however his face read nothing but annoyed. Lieutenant General Raven; a rather jovial man, who had a strong working relationship with the President of Amestris. He was a high profiler, even by the military’s standards.

Avery shrugged, “I have to believe it’s a condition at this point. If not a complete allergy to being on time.”

Then, as if on cue, the doors suddenly swung open.

Toting his pair of non-military issued boots and his haphazardly unbuttoned uniform, Avery’s star subordinate walked in, taking a seat between the two generals. Raven’s eyes slightly widened at the young major’s entrance before shrinking back into a closed-eye smile that felt neither genuine or forced.

“It’s good to see you, Major Elric.” He began kindly. “Did you have a nice morning?”

Ed sighed loudly, throwing his hands behind his head. “It was fine, I guess. Can we just get on with whatever this meeting is all about?” General Raven shifted his gaze towards Avery, expecting some kind of look of disappointment or reprimand, but the man merely smiled back at him with an equally proud glint in his eye that left Raven a bit exasperated.

“But, of course. Although I’m sure you know why this meeting had to happen.” Raven tapped his finger on the table. Ed rolled his eyes. He shuffled up his left sleeve and let his hand fall onto the table with a thud. He flipped his hand so his palm was facing the ceiling, revealing the steel bracelet tightly wrapped around his wrist; the light still red from yesterday’s outing.

“Shall we begin with this?” Raven pointed at the light.

Ed responded quickly, “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I didn’t have a choice, alright? It’s not like I wanted to break the rules.” Especially if it meant waking up for this meeting, Ed grumbled to himself.

“A choice?” Raven inquired. “I think you’ve misunderstood, Mr. Elric. This bracelet is meant to erase the idea of choice, not complicate it.” Raven carefully held up Ed’s wrist, gently wrapping his fingers around the steel. “We don’t want you to feel pressured to make those kinds of decisions. This—” he lightly shook Ed’s wrist. “—This was supposed to eliminate that possibility. Do you understand?”

Ed tore his hand away and pulled down his sleeve. He shot a sharp glare at Raven to which the older man simply smiled and folded his hands beneath his chin

Avery, meanwhile, was going for a new record for his longest time spent being silent. It had become abundantly clear to him at this point that his summons was merely done out of curtesy. Raven had no qualms with him — he only wanted to speak with Edward. Whether Ed would present differently around his superior was a curiosity Raven had, but as it would turn out, it seemed he was just as ill-mannered as ever.

Raven started again, “I understand that this arrangement has had quite the negative impact on your—”

“Oh really?” Ed interjected. “How’d you guess that, genius?” Raven narrowed his eyes.

“Easy, boy.” Avery quietly chimed in. “Don’t go biting the General’s hand now~” Raven’s gaze remained fixed on Ed. His expression softened once again.

“This is not a punishment, Mr. Elric.” He continued. “We’ve already explained it to you. This is a correctional device. One that will eventually help you move on from this… Itch you have. Isn’t that right, General?”

Avery’s eyes flicked up at Raven. He teetered in his seat before giving in.

“That was its intended use, yes. But as I stated to the committee, I don’t take Elric’s escapades to be a sign of bad character. When it comes to alchemy, I trust his judgement completely.”

Raven, taken a bit aback by Avery’s candidness, was even more surprised to find the Major looking even more distraught after hearing his superior’s praise. Daggers shot straight from his eyes at the younger General — it looked as if he was seething.

“Well, that may be fine and dandy for you, General. However, the committee and I don’t see this ‘up’ factor in allowing Mr. Elric’s judgement to run freely. Regardless of its intent, alchemy is still alchemy. And such is what got Mr. Elric into this mess, isn’t that right?”

A slew of unpleasant memories suddenly resurfaced in Ed’s mind causing him to almost wince like it were a real physical pain in his head. A pang of guilt rang in his ears, bouncing off the walls in his mind.

Raven looked directly into Ed’s eyes and spoke calmly yet firm.

“Mr. Elric, do you believe you have a problem when it comes to containing your urge to transmute?”

No, Ed answered in his head.

“Do you believe you are trustworthy enough to wield your alchemy for the will of the military?”

I guess, he again responded in his head.

Raven leaned in.

“Do you think you have the right to tell others what they can or cannot transmute?”

Ed froze. His thoughts came to a halt giving way for his guilty conscience to take over.

“…No,” his voice came out defeated. “No, sir. I don’t believe I do.” Avery frowned at the sight him.

General Raven smiled, completely satisfied. “Of course not. That is why we are here to help you — to remove that stress from your life so that you may fulfill your duties without distractions. So! Here’s what I propose: we’ll take this strike as a… preliminary bug and remove it from your record. This is an experiment after all. That way you have no need to worry about ever raising that number again. Previous candidates we have tried on this method saw more success when they remained at zero attempts. Such will be my kindness to you, my dear boy — so take it in stride.”

Ed's eyes remained glued to the table. He sat there like a lifeless corpse. There weren’t any words left in his head for him to spout back, even if he wanted to. His mind was spent repressing the guilt that had just bubbled up to the surface. It had been a while since he last thought about it. And it would seem he was out of practice.

Raven put a hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Take your time thinking it over. This will be our next course of action, but I don’t want you to feel as if this is a punishment! So many good soldiers misunderstand our intentions and get caught up in the ethics and stress of it all. But that’s simply a waste of brainpower, wouldn’t you agree? I promise you: this is all towards a greater future for us all.” Raven began to scoot back in his chair to stand up, prompting Avery to pull himself out of his chair as well.

Raven reached out a hand to Avery signalling the end of their meeting. The younger general complied with a particularly tight grip that caused Raven to twitch ever so slightly. Seeing as he wasn’t getting up, Avery pulled Ed’s chair out and dragged him up to his feet.

“Well, it was very nice to see you, General Raven. I think Mr. Elric and I will take our leave now.” Avery spat out with a toothy grin. “We’ll be seeing you.”

Leaving the room behind them, the two men made their way down the hall together in silence. Once out of earshot, Avery let out a loud groan, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Geez, does that guy love the sound of his own voice or what?” Avery remarked.

“Pfft. You’re one to talk,” Ed shot back.

Avery blinked before breaking into a hearty laugh. “Oh, is that how it is?” He lightly punched the young major’s shoulder. “You certainly took your time, clamming up like that. What happened? Cat got your tongue?” Ed stayed quiet.

As they reached the elevator, Ed took a moment to look out the window behind them. There was a clear blue sky today. No one else seemed to be out in the hall, leaving them with a comfortable silence.

Seeing as they were alone, however, Ed took the opportunity to ask, “Do you think they’ll ever let me take this thing off?”

A beat passed.

Avery paused to think before leaning up against the wall beside Ed.

“As long as you get relicensed, yeah. At least, that’s what it said in the agreement.” He replied. Ed scoffed returning his gaze back towards the window.

“Right, 'the agreement.’ Because the military is so good at following through on those, right?” Ed chuckled to himself. “What a joke.” Avery let out a weary sigh.

“I really hope that you take this seriously now, Ed.” He said.

Ed flinched. Avery’s poignant use of his first name always irked him because it only ever came out with a hint of pity or sympathy.

“You know I don’t have a problem with you using alchemy — it’s just the bigwigs. And you know I don’t care about them. So, whether or not you care about losing your hand is hardly my concern. But just remember: that hand also belongs to me, and I don’t plan on losing it anytime soon—you got that?” Avery’s tone shifted into something darker towards the end of his speech.

Ed bit down on his tongue in an attempt to silence himself from saying something truly awful to the man next to him. His hands were trembling; he held them closed in an attempt to calm the incredible anger surging through his entire body. It was the same almost every time. Anytime Ed came close to accepting Avery’s concern for him, he remembered how he got into this situation in the first place and it always made him so angry.

The major narrowed his eyes at his superior, suddenly turning hostile. “And what a shame that would be, huh? Losing your good hand. Asshole…” That last bit came out as more of an utterance, but Avery caught it nonetheless. Simply hearing it caused the general’s face to drop with fatigue. He wanted to say something back but ultimately decided against it. He’d already played this game with Ed before — multiple times they’d played it — and he wasn’t about to bet in again only to leave a sore loser; which he would because Ed was incredibly stubborn.

Instead, he said, “When you get downstairs, I want you to get Falman and leave right away.”

“Ugh, whaat…” Ed drawled. “Can't I at least sit down for a few minutes?”

“Nope, no sitting down for you, mister,” Avery responded. “Police got a call last night claiming to have seen two kids, matching their description, running by their house last night. Neither of them were wearing shoes and the couple described the kids as looking like ‘they’d just walked out of an oven’.”

Ed made a face. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Hell if I know,” Avery shrugged. “Not sure if they’re implying the kids looked cooked or just tanned. Either way, we have other eyewitness reports stating the same thing leading down towards the edge of the Eastern District. I had the police list the kids listed as 'missing persons' so we'd have neighbourhood watch on our side a bit.”

The elevator finally dinged announcing its arrival. Ed stepped in leaving Avery standing outside.

Ed grabbed the door. "Aren't you coming in?"

“Unfortunately not. I still got one more meeting to go to. I just didn’t want to go right away so I stalled a little bit. These frivolous oldies are really starting to get on my nerves these days, demanding a meeting every week… I mean for god sake, can’t they just croak already.” Avery scowled. Ed let out a snicker. As much as he disliked the man, Ed couldn’t help but find his antics and attitude entertaining every once in a while. It was probably those very antics that kept Ed working under him after all these years; even after, his suspension.

“I’ll report back as soon as I get a lead.”

Avery clarified, “No need to check in with leads. Just call back when you find them. I want them back in one piece, you hear?” Ed laughed letting go of the door before noticing Avery’s stern expression. He was being serious about that last part.

In one piece, eh? He thought as he stood in the elevator alone. It’s just two kids — how hard could that be?

***

“Ugh, where is it…?!”

An older gentleman perusing one of the nearby shelves flinched at the sound of the small voice. He raised his head, searching the small store for the origin of the sound only to find himself and the products surrounding him. The old man scratched his head in confusion and went back to staring at the laundry soaps.

A pair of small dark eyes fitted behind a pair of comically large glasses peeked over the store counter.

“He’s still looking at the soaps,” The black-haired boy whispered. The boy was just tall enough to see over the tall counter — one that was clearly made without the intention of children standing behind it. He continued to stare at the old man before lamenting out loud, “Don’t you think we should go help him or something?”

The young boy turned to his friend who was sitting on a milk crate just behind him; this boy was slightly taller than him, had messy blonde hair, and was wearing a tank top, shorts, and a pair of old sandals. He had his head in the newspaper, tearing through each section, clearly looking something. The blonde-haired boy sighed.

“Help him do what exactly? Pick his soap? That old guy comes in here every week and he always stares at the soap for like half-an-hour before picking the same damn one every time. We don’t need to help him. He’ll be out of here soon enough.” The boy flicked the old lollipop stick in his mouth. “If ya wanna be helpful, why don’t you help me find the comic strips section and quit buggin’ me about the old man. Unless it’s a girl walks in, I don’t wanna hear about it. Capeesh?”

Ding!

The black-haired boy flinched at the sound of the front door opening. Seeing who it was, the young boy had a split second thought before loudly calling out, “Hello Miss!” causing his friend to jump to his feet.

“JEAN!! Are you seriously making poor Kain run the counter for you?!” The boy sprang up to see his older sister standing on the other side of the counter with her hands on her hips. Jean shot his friend a dirty look prompting a devious smile to spread across the smaller boy’s face.

“Ugh, I wasn’t ‘making’ him do anything. He volunteered for it.” Jean smugly remarked. The older girl dropped her gaze down at Kain whose eyes stared back at her innocently.

“Jean wanted to look through the daily comic strips, so I said I’d watch the counter for him.” He replied showcasing the warmest smile he could muster. The boy’s sister twitched before reaching over the counter to grab her brother’s ear.

“YOU — take over now,” she barked at him, pinching his ear. “Quit lettin’ your friend be so generous and get up off your ass!!” She threw his ear back and went storming towards the back.

The boy rubbed his sore ear with a whine. Kain, meanwhile, watched as Jean's sister approached the back door and kicked it open as opposed to just pushing it. A shiver ran down his spine.

“Your sister is kinda scary,” he said turning back to Jean.

“Who, Gina? Yeah, tell me about it.” Jean replied folding up the newspapers in his lap. “How a girl as scary as that gets a boyfriend before I can get a single date is beyond me. It’s stupid — it’s crazy stupid!” Another devious grin spread across little Kain’s face.

“Oh don’t worry, Jean." Kain crooned. “I’m sure you’ll get a boyfriend soon.”

“Ha! Yeah, that’s—” Jean’s head snapped towards Kain’s direction. “THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID AND YOU KNOW IT.” The boy quickly rolled up the newspapers in his hand and smacked his friend across the back.

“HEY!!” Gina’s head popped in from the back door. “Quit yellin’ at your friends like that, you little shit! I don’t wanna hear it!!” Jean bit his lip, his face turning red. Kain quietly snickered into his hands.

The old man from earlier now approached the counter having chosen his soaps — the same soaps he had gotten the last week and the week before that and so on. Noticing his quiet presence, Jean stepped in front of Kain to lazily count the soaps and toss them into a bag.

“That’ll be four-hundred cens,” Jean recited. And just as always, the old man went fumbling for his wallet, muttering the numbers out loud before shakily delivering them into Jean’s hand. Jean threw the coins into the register and slammed it shut as Kain handed the old man the bag with a smile.

“Have a nice day, sir!” He chimed. The old man’s face seemed to light up for a second.

“Why thank you, young man. You’re quite the keener.” The old man suddenly looked at Jean and muttered something under his breath. Jean felt his eye twitch.

After the man hobbled out of their store, Jean quickly took the opportunity to smack Kain across the head earning a small yelp and a quick “Why?!” from the smaller boy.

“Because you’re too dang nice all the time!!” Jean snapped back. “Standing next to you makes me look like a delinquent! I mean, what the heck!! What did I ever do to that old fart?!” Kain snickered again.

“Maybe if you fixed up your hair, people wouldn’t think you’re such a bully.”

“I think with the way you’re talking to me, I’m about to become one.”

Ding!

The door bell sounded off again. Kain peeked over the counter to see two teenagers walking in. The taller one seemed slightly older than him. He was probably around Jean's age. And the other...

Kain's eyes immediately grew.

Jean sat down on the milk crate and went reaching for the newspapers again when he felt his friend jab him in the head.

“Ow—! What was that for?!” Jean snarled at him.

“Shh! There’s a girl here.”

Jean rolled his eyes. “Lemme guess. It’s my mother this time, isn’t it?”

“No, I’m being serious, Jean — a girl just walked in.” Kain pulled him by the shirt to look over the counter. “Look…!”

Jean’s eyes darted around the store, searching for the girl in question. His eyes landed on a head of black hair standing behind one of the smaller shelves. He squinted his eyes at the figure…

…Only for them to turn around revealing the face of another boy.

Jean turned red and smacked Kain again.

“Are you messin’ with me…?!”

“Ow! No, not that one — that one…!” Kain pointed towards the back shelves. Jean followed Kain’s finger with his eyes. He was right, there was a girl. She was standing with her back towards them inspecting the snacks. She was small, short, wearing a burgundy sweater and dark pants. The bottoms of her pants were covered in dirt as were other parts of her clothes which had strange ash-like bits all over them. By the length of her hair, Jean could’ve easily thought she was a boy too if she hadn’t turned around revealing a soft, youthful face. But again, her cheeks were painted with dirt and what looked like black soot.

Jean grabbed Kain’s shoulder and leaned into his ear. “Dude, she looks like she’s ten years old. That’s your game buddy, not mine. Also, I gotta be honest — I don’t really like tomboys.” Kain shrugged, moving to take Jean’s spot on the milk crate.

“Why don’t you ask the other guy out, then? You thought he was a girl too.” Kain remarked.

“NO, I DID NOT—” Jean yelled out before dropping his voice into a whisper. “I just saw the back of his head. That doesn’t count as anything...!”

Jean looked up again and noticed the dark-haired boy had turned around in their direction. He had sharp, dark eyes and a rounded face; but, like the girl, he also had black smears of soot on his cheeks and forehead. Weird, Jean wondered to himself as he continued to bitterly stare at the boy. Suddenly, the boy raised his head making accidental eye contact with Jean. Flustered, Jean quickly tore his gaze away.

Seeing as his friend took his seat, Jean pulled out the stool next to the counter and sat on it. Laying his head down on the hard surface of the counter, he sighed wistfully.

Tik... Tik... Tik...

Jean glanced up at the clock and was quietly prompted to groan again. It had barely even been an hour since they opened. And they had another few hours to go before they could leave for lunch. The boy ruffled his hair in frustration.

“Could this day go any slower…”

Ding!

Jean shifted his head onto its side to see who had just walked in. It was a tall, freckled, beach blonde-haired woman holding a couple of large boxes with an unlit cigarette in her mouth.

Her voice came out loud and sweet, “'ey sweetie — 'ello Kain. You boys stayin’ outta trouble?”

Jean let out a long huff and turned his head back down.

“Hi mum...” He mumbled into the counter.

“Yes, ma’am!” Kain nodded. “Although Jean was actually just—” The blond-haired boy nearly fell off his stool as he ran to clamp a hand over his friend’s mouth.

“Yeah—we’re just workin’. You know, working. Just keepin’ the store safe, sellin’ soaps, appeasing the old folk — y’know. The usual.” Jean’s mother snickered at his quick response.

“—‘ats m’boy,” her words slightly slurred together due to the cigarette in her mouth. “Say, Jeanie—‘ould you be a dear and ‘ight this for me? M’hands are a bit—“ The woman fumbled with the boxes in her arms. “—full as you can see.”

Jean ducked down to rummage under the counter. He came back up holding an old red lighter, flicking it on before bringing the flame up to his mother’s cigarette.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” His mother smiled. “I’ll just be in the back, alright? Holler if you need me.”

Adjusting her grip on the boxes, Jean’s mother continued further into the store, disappearing behind the same door Gina had gone through earlier.

A peaceful silence ensued as Jean sank back down on his stool. He fiddled with the lighter in his hand flipping it around his fingers, flicking it on and off, before shoving it into his pocket. Noticing this, Kain poked his friend’s back.

“What?” Jean moaned.

“You shouldn’t put that in your pocket,” his friend cautioned.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Jean challenged him back. “What? You think it’s gonna burn a hole in my pants?” The smaller boy twiddled with his thumbs.

“I- I dunno... It just doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

Jean rolled his eyes. Kain was always like this; worrying about the things that could or couldn’t happen to a person. It didn’t matter the circumstances. You could be a soft, padded room with no edges and the boy would still find a way to worry about getting hurt somehow. He had the bravery of a bird, Jean would often say — like the ones that were afraid of being touched by the tide. This made him rather apt for retreating at the first sight of danger, which he often did when Jean would get into fights with other boys.

Of course, living such a quiet life, the two boys rarely rubbed shoulders with anything out of the ordinary — never mind anything dangerous. The most exciting thing they had to look forward to during the week was seeing the occasional police car rush by in response to another gun call in the neighbouring district. That was the extent of the action they would see. Anything else could be categorized as mundane normalcy. The only other thing they had to deal with was the occasional shoplifter, which, if Jean’s senses were serving him right, they were about to deal with right now.

Jean stared over the counter at the dark-haired boy across the room in the shop. He had been standing there almost completely motionless for nearly six minutes. He wasn’t looking at any products like the old man was; his eyes were darting all over the place, occasionally glancing up at Jean with a nervous look in his eyes.

I bet he’s trying to steal something, Jean said in his head.

Upon making eye contact again, the boy ducked down behind one of the shelves. Jean huffed out a frustrated sigh.

He’s definitely stealing something.

Jean took out the old lollipop stick in his mouth and shoved it in his pocket. He quietly stepped around the counter and began to make his way towards the far corner where the boy was.

Having watched people in the store for hours on end, Jean had developed a keen eye when it came to shoplifters. There were the experienced ones that would get away too quickly before you could stop them; the dangerous ones that you didn’t mess with, although it was incredibly rare; and then there were the amateurs: people who weren’t used to stealing or people who stole out of necessity.

As Jean approached, he could see the dark-haired boy hunched over by the loaves of bread.

“Hey. You.” Jean called out.

The boy flinched, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sound of Jean’s voice. Instead of turning around, he slowly tilted his head in Jean’s direction and avoided any eye contact with him. Jean glanced around before leaning in closer to him.

“Come on, man. I know you’re stealing. Just drop it and go, alright?” Jean said, keeping his voice down. “Look—if my mom wasn’t here I’d just give to you, but…” To Jean’s surprise, the boy suddenly stood up to face him.

“Stealing? I- I wasn’t stealing.” He sputtered out. Jean looked at him completely unimpressed and unconvinced. The guy had his hands behind his back wearing the sweatiest expression he had ever seen.

Before Jean could respond though, the back door kicked open causing the two boys to jump. From it, came Gina and their mother, the sight of which sent the boy running for the door.

“Ha- HEY!!” Jean yelled as he chased after him.

“Riza, run!!” The boy called out to his friend. The small girl was already waiting by the front for him and quickly dashed out the door upon seeing his approach.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Jean’s mother’s voice boomed. “Jean?!” Kain popped his head up just in time to see the boy rush out the door with Jean hot on his heels.

Outside the shop, Jean managed to tackle the boy to the ground, leaving them both tangled up in the middle of the dirt road. Jean wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulders, awkwardly grappling him in any way he could.

“Let… go of me!!” The boy struggled against Jean’s hold on him.

“Give… Give back what you stole…! Thief!!” Jean demanded. The boy tried to elbow him but missed giving Jean the chance to flip them over so he was on top of him.

“I didn’t—steal anything! Dumbass!!” The boy grabbed a fist full of dirt and sand, and threw it into Jean’s face. Feeling his eyes sting, Jean fell back furiously rubbing his eyes.

“ACK—!! CHEATER!! Son of a—” But by the time Jean sat up to face him, the boy had gone tumbling down the grassy hill. Before disappearing out of sight, however, the boy stopped to give Jean a stink eye. Jean clenched his fists.

“That little…!” He muttered gnashing his teeth in frustration. Behind him, Kain came running out of the store.

“Oh my gosh—are you okay?!” The small boy exclaimed. Jean pouted on the ground keeping his stare locked in the direction his arch nemesis had gone running. The fact that he had possibly stole something meant nothing to Jean, really. It was more the fact that he had just lost a fight against someone who couldn’t even muster up the courage to steal a loaf of bread — a sweaty, slightly bigger than him, coward — who threw sand in his eyes...! Jean fell onto his back, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“I freakin’ hate that guy.”

Kain crouched over him and sighed. “Let me guess. He said no?”

“What? Of course he said…” Jean trailed off as he noticed Kain’s mischievous face hovering over him. Without hesitation, Jean jabbed his friend in the throat causing him to gag. “Not so funny now, is it?.”

Kain giggled, slightly coughing still. “Hehe... Sorry.”

Jean rolled his eyes and sat up. He looked down at his clothes to see he was covered in dirt. That kid must have had soot on his hands too, seeing as he left little swipes of black on his white shirt.

“Ugh, just great.”

Jean shuffled forward to sit at the edge of the road where the grass began to dip down the hill. He felt Kain’s knee bump against his as he came to sit next to him.

“That was kinda crazy, huh?” Kain remarked. “I don't think I've ever seen that guy before. Do you think we'll ever see them again?”

Jean scoffed, “Why? You plannin' to ask him out or somethin'?” Kain got flushed in the face.

“No...” He buried his face into his knees.

Jean went back to staring down the hill. There, he noticed something poking out of the grass a few feet below them — some kind of rectangle-shaped thing.

Jean chuckled. “That idiot. Looks like he dropped whatever he was trying to steal.” He swiftly shuffled down the hill to grab the left behind product, only that wasn’t what he found.

Jean pulled it up off the ground and dusted it off. It was a book. A brown leather-bound book.

“What is it?” Kain asked sliding down behind him.

Jean pinched the button on the cover and plucked it open. “I don't know. It’s some kind of book. Ha! I bet it’s that guy’s diary or something. Let's see...” Kain came up next to him, leaning over his shoulder.

“Wait, really? Lemme see, lemme see—”

But as the book fell open in Jean’s lap, the two boys were struck into silence as they tried to make sense of what they were looking at.

“What the hell is this?”

There were a bunch of weird drawings — mainly circle patterns — and a ton of scribbled writing along with it. Some of the pages had been torn out or were crinkled up. Some even had burn marks on the edges of them. Jean and Kain looked at each other before flipping to another page and collectively flinched.

There was blood splattered across this page.

Jean silently shut the book and re-buttoned it. He felt like they had just found something they shouldn't have seen. Just holding it felt like bad karma. Why would a kid even have something like this?

“Wh- What should we do?” Kain asked breaking the silence. Jean said nothing. He simply grabbed Kain's hand and stood up, leading them back up the hill.

“Whatever this is, I don't think we should have anything to do with it. I say we give it to the police or something.”

Kain gasped. “The police? You think it's something that serious?”

However, when the two of them reached the top of the hill, Jean noticed a black car parked outside the store. Stopping himself, he grabbed his friend and pulled him down into the grass with him.

“Agh! What are you—”

“Shh!! Shut up...!” Jean gestured his head towards the car. Kain's eyes landed on it and he fell silent. They watched as two blue uniformed officers exited the vehicle and approached the store. One was tall with grey hair and the other, shorter, with a blond ponytail.

“Who are they? Police?” Kain whispered.

Jean had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Those weren't policemen. They were soldiers from the military.

Chapter Text

Roy’s tumble down the hill was hardly the great escape he had planned for. In fact, he hadn’t planned anything. Once he realized the boy from the shop was following him outside his only thought was to “get away” — and his planning stopped there. He wasn’t even aware that the grass next to them turned into a hill. The sudden dip below his feet, thus, caught him by surprise leading to his turbulent fall into the grass.

After hitting nearly every bump on his way down, Roy finally landed at the bottom of the hill with a satisfying roll onto his back. His head was left spinning and his eyes were dizzy. He lay there completely motionless to allow his vision to settle. However, as his body began to catch up a dull searing pain sprang from his leg.

He sat up and inspected the source.

Great. When did that happen?

There was a fairly sizeable scrape on his left knee. It was raw and red, with pieces of dirt and grass stuck to it. He stared at it for a moment.

…Hm.

He decided to poke it.

“Ow…!”

Dusting himself off, Roy got to his feet and turned his gaze back up the hill. There at the top he could see the scruffy-looking store boy staring back at him with a sour expression. Even from a distance, Roy could still hear the boy cursing him from above, but it seemed like he wouldn’t follow him any further.

Prick.

With a snide smirk, Roy brought a finger to his eye and stuck out his tongue at his opponent before dashing off down the dirt path. The scrape on his knee stung against the open air but it didn’t slow him down.

As breathless as he was after the fall, the boy’s adrenaline had refused to cease allowing him to speed ahead without consequence. He had never gotten into a fight like that before and it left his heart racing. He was scared of course, but there was now an element of excitement that he couldn’t shove down. Actually, now that he thought about it he’d never struck anyone on purpose before until yesterday either. His life seemed to be taking a rather violent turn and he’d be lying if he said some part of him didn’t find the danger exhilarating.

Up ahead, Roy finally caught sight of Riza who was sitting under a tree. The shadows of the leaves cast over her calm face as she sat crosslegged holding something in her hand.

Spotting him, she called out to him, “What was that for?”

Roy ignored her and remained fixated on what seemed to be food in her hand. “What is that? Are you eating something?”

He stopped at her feet, quietly looming over her. The growl in his stomach returned with a vengeance at the sight of what was in her hands: a small packet of peanuts.

“That face you made over there. What was that for?” Riza tilted her head up at him in confusion.

Roy puffed up his chest a bit. “Nothing. Just a little message. Anyways, what are you eating?”

Riza slapped her friend’s grabby hand away as he tried to reach for her snack. She silently looked up at him with a frown. But it wasn’t just one snack. She had a horde of them sitting in her lap.

“Did you take… all of those?” Roy’s eyes widened. The girl had at least eight different packs of snacks: crackers, chips, candy — you name it.

“Yeah,” Riza responded. “Why? Where’s yours?”

Roy tore away in embarrassment. Faced with the fruits of her labour, Roy suddenly felt a bit self conscious over his complete lack of snacks. He could feel his face burning up as he caught a glimpse of Riza’s curious gaze on him in the corner of his eye.  It was humiliating, really.

It was his idea to go into a store and steal something in the first place, but he just couldn’t do it. Right when they stepped into the store, his nerves became an absolute wreck. His palms began to sweat and his mouth went dry; his vision almost seemed to blur from how fast his eyes were darting around the place. It felt like every person in the world was watching him. He couldn’t even take a piece of gum.

“Ugh…”

Succumbing to yet another intense growl from his stomach, Roy fell onto the ground next to his friend, briefly glancing at her snack pile with envy. He didn’t want to ask but he had no choice at this point.

“Um, those crackers…” He started sheepishly. “Can I… Can I have one of those?”

“No.”

Roy’s jaw dropped. Not a shred of hesitation.

“Are you serious? You won’t even give me one?!”

Riza popped another peanut in her mouth and crumpled up the empty plastic.

“These are mine,” she said to him opening another package. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t get any.” Roy narrowed his eyes at her.

All of a sudden, he threw himself onto the ground in front of her and began to fake sob.

“You’re so mean…!” He cried. “I’m starving and you won’t even give me one… How could you do this to me — your only friend…!”

“Geez, you really are a weirdo, huh?”

Roy’s head snapped up at the sound of another’s voice. His eyes moved down the path a few feet ahead of them; it was the boy from the shop and the other smaller boy that was behind the counter. Immediately, Roy planted himself in front of Riza with a tightened expression.

“What do you want?” His voice harshened.

The blond-haired boy stepped forward with a smirk.

“You might wanna be a bit kinder with your tone,” the boy said pulling out something from behind his back. “You lose this?”

Roy’s eyes settled on the object in his hand and felt his insides freeze over. He frantically patted himself down, his eyes darting around their surroundings. It was gone. Gone. That boy in front of him was really holding his master’s journal. You careless idiot… He must’ve dropped it on the way down.

Saying nothing, Roy jumped to his feet, swiftly lunging at the two boys with his eyes set on his master’s journal

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—hey! Not so fast!!” The blond-haired boy exclaimed keeping the book out of Roy’s reach. There was something deathly urgent in Roy’s eyes that seemed to startle the other two boys. Kain in particular found it rather disquieting.

“First, give back what you stole.” The store boy held out his left hand in anticipation. The smaller boy quietly hid behind the other, only peeking around to briefly glance up at Roy who shot him a hardened glare.

Roy slapped the store boy’s hand away and reached again for the book.

“I already told you. I didn’t steal anything. Now. Give. It. BACK.” He shot back.

“Okay, tell me what’s in here then,” the store boy replied. “If this really belongs to you then tell me—what’s so important about this book? What is it?”

Roy stood back in silence. He chewed on the inside of his cheek in contemplation of what to say next.

“It’s a science book.” He responded flatly. And in one fell swoop, he snatched the book out of the boy’s hands.

“H-HEY!!”

In a flash, Roy hurried back to Riza who was busy stuffing her stolen snacks back into her sleeves. The store boy caught sight of this and scoffed.

Roy wasn’t sure where they would go next but they should probably get moving. Who knew when the military would show up, if they ever did. The crunch of dirt sounded off behind them. Biting his tongue in anger, Roy turned back to see the two boys standing behind him.

“What? I already told you we didn’t steal anything.” Roy said.

The store boy pointed at Riza.

“She did. Look-it her —she has crumbs all over her dang shirt!!”

Roy turned to Riza who continued to stare at them blankly. He was right. If the puffed up sleeves were enough, crumbs decorated the front part of her sweater; not to mention the few straying crumbs around her mouth. Roy sighed.

The blond-haired boy continued, “Y’know what, if you’re gonna steal, at least go steal from Jefferson’s down the road. I let you off the hook this time but don’t think I won’t report ya to the authorities the next time I see you comin’ into our store — got it?”

Roy looked up sharply. “If you were gonna lecture us anyway, why did you let us go? And what’s wrong with Jefferson’s?”

The boy crossed his arms and huffed. “Their kid’s a grade-A stinker, that’s what. He’s always knockin’ over my bike.”

“Jean, I don’t think that’s…” The smaller boy whispered.

“What?!” Jean spat. “Kain, I’m telling you—he’s the one who keeps doing it!!”

Seeing the two boys bicker, Roy felt a smile begin to creep onto his face but quickly shook it off. He wouldn’t be caught in a daze of normalcy. He couldn’t afford to. Not with the way things were now. He glanced back at Riza again. Aside from the crumbs and her ridiculous sleeves, she looked tired. There was dirt on her clothes, and the soot smeared across her face. Just the sight of her tired gaze brought everything back into focus. This wasn’t a time to be playing around. They had to get moving.

“Hmph. Whatever. Thanks for not saying anything I guess. Now, would you please go away?”

Jean’s face dropped into a frown.

“You’ve got a pretty rotten attitude, you know that?” He chided. “Keep that up and someone’s bound to get you in trouble for that.”

Roy let out a loud groan before lashing back, “Ohh for the love of—look guy, we haven’t eaten in nearly two days and I haven’t even got shoes on my feet!! We’re hungry, we’re tired — you’d have a pretty lousy attitude too if you were me!”

“It’s been only been one day actually.” Riza corrected. Roy turned a slight pink.

“Well, whatever! Either way, it’s not like we’re out here running around for fun. It’s not my fault we’re getting chased by the military like a couple of dogs…”

Both Jean and Kain flinched at the latter half of Roy’s rant. The two boys slowly turned to look at each other before looking back at Roy and Riza.

Jean nervously laughed, “Y-yeah right. What would the military want with a couple of runts like—”

“JEAN HAVOC!!” A woman’s voice broke through the air startling all four kids. Their eyes quickly landed on Jean who begrudgingly peaked out from under the tree towards the source of the sound. It was his mother, standing with the two soldiers they had saw earlier. Jean felt a bout of uneasiness settle in his stomach as he noticed one of the soldiers, the blond, was staring right at them. In a panic, Jean pushed Roy and Riza further up against the tree.

“H-hey what are you—”

“You said the military wants you, right?”

Roy paused.

“Uh… Yeah?”

Jean shot Kain a look of concern; Kain responded with an equally fearful look, practically shaking like a leaf.

Jean thought to himself, if that’s true then that must be why those men are up there with mum, right now… But if I told them, would they flip out and run away? Should they just make a run for it? Jean peeked out again. The tree was the only thing covering them from view. As long as everyone stayed where they are, both the kids and the soldiers included, the two of them wouldn’t be spotted. Jean bit his lip in nervous contemplation.

No. ’Cuz if they ran from this spot right now, the soldiers would definitely see them and they’d definitely catch them.

Jean took one last look at Roy, taking him in from head to toe.

He didn’t look like a criminal. Neither of them did. It seemed like they were just two kids caught in a bad spot… or not. He couldn’t be sure. The only thing Jean could be sure about was that if he ratted out on them and something bad happened, he was sure to get a stomach ache about it later. Jean’s eyes shifted down to Roy’s hand and the journal.

Agh, I didn’t get to fully ask about the book, he cursed to himself. Maybe he could ask him about it later after the soldiers left. Maybe it really was just a weird science textbook.

Roy continued to stand there silently waiting until Jean suddenly perked his head up and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Roy reeled back at bit, taken aback by the strange gesture.

He answered back, “Roy… Roy Mustang. And who are you calling a kid?! I’m sixteen years old!”

Jean gripped Roy’s shoulders tightly and gave him the sternest look he could muster.

“Okay, old man Mustang—listen up. You need to stay here and not move from this spot, ya hear? I’ll explain when I get back. Just stay here and don’t move.”

Before Roy could respond, Jean was already grabbing Kain by the hand and dragging him back down the path. Kain, with a kind, nervous smile, gently waved in Roy and Riza’s direction. Only Riza waved back.

“What the heck is going on…” Roy groaned.

Attempting to follow them, Roy took a step forward only to be pulled back behind the tree. He looked back to see Riza holding his shirt again.

“What?” He shot her a puzzled look.

She pointed up towards the hill. Roy looked.

Crap.

Soldiers. There were two soldiers standing with the older woman from the shop, presumably Jean’s mother, and one of them was peering straight in their direction.

Roy shrank behind the tree clutching his master’s journal to his chest. His breaths quickened as his mind began to swirl back into panic mode.

No, no, no, no, no… How did they find us so quickly? Are they here for me? For us? Or was it just a coincidence? Roy recalled the happenings at the house and felt a lump form in his throat. No… Nothing is a coincidence. Roy knew what they had to do.

Riza meanwhile was busy staring up at Roy and watched as his panicked expression softened and replaced itself with a look of utter seriousness and determination.

He has a plan.

Noticing her gaze on him, Roy squat down to be eye-level with her. He looked her straight in the eyes and spoke calmly yet firm.

“When I say ‘go’—we’re gonna run, okay? Don’t let go of my hand.”

Riza simply nodded in response. Roy took a deep breath in and out.

I won’t let us be caught. I won’t let it happen again.

Nearing the top of the hill, Jean was starting to get a good look at these soldiers. He’d never seen military personnel up close; their blue uniforms seemed cool, although they looked a lot younger than what he expected — at least one of them did. The grey-haired one… he looked like he was either twenty or fifty, it was hard to tell; but the blond one, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties, close to his eldest sister’s age. The closer he got, however, the more the blond one seemed to shrink.

When the two reached the top of the hill, Jean took a stand in front of the blond soldier. The man seemed to notice this and awkwardly stared back at him. Jean couldn’t believe it — they were basically the exact same height. Granted, Jean was taller than most. He was taller than that boy Mustang down below. Then, his thoughts stopped.

Right. Mustang.

Jean’s mother began to berate him about something but the sound of her voice got lost in Jean’s head as he contemplated his next course of action. He bit his lip in worry.

…He had no idea what to do next.

He came up here with the confidence that he’d be able to stall the soldiers and shoo them off somehow, but seeing them up close, regardless of how short they were, intimidated him greatly.  But maybe he didn’t have to do much. If he could just buy them some time, chat up the soldiers and get them to leave, maybe then he could…

“Major!”

The grey-haired soldier’s voice sounded off startling the group of them. His voice sounded young; he was in his twenties. The shorter one, the “major” Jean presumed, got a wide-eyed look on his face and speedily dashed off down the hill, nearly hitting Jean on the way down.

“Sorry kid!” The man called back to him. Jean, left stumbling on his feet, promptly fell on his butt landing him in the grass once again. Kain knelt beside him turning his head towards the action below. His face went pale.

“Uh, Jean?” Kain shuddered.

Jean’s eyes darted in the soldier’s direction, following along further down the path, and there he saw them: Roy Mustang and his little friend running for their lives, hand-in-hand.

“That dang idiot…!”

***

“You idiots!” Ed cursed as he scrambled back up to his feet. “You think a couple of bot—bottles—is enough to stop me?!”

Leaving behind the knocked-over crate of beer bottles the kids threw down to trip him, Ed resumed his sprint down another alleyway before hitting an open street. His eyes darted around searching for movement. The kids had foolishly entered the adjacent district which infamously held the least foot traffic during the day allowing Ed to easily pluck them out of the scenery at a glance.

The street was almost dead silent. Not a single passerby out or about. But such was the nature of the Eastern District; it was only under the cover of night that the place truly came alive. It was a place for brothels and gang activity. It was hardly the place for a pair of runaway teenagers to be hanging around. Not unless they expected to be whisked away or recruited.

“Did you see where they went, sir?” Falman’s sudden appearance caused Ed to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Jesus, Falman. You almost gave me a heart attack…!” Ed quietly jabbered back. “They went this way but I haven’t spotted them since.”

Ed’s eyes continued to scan the area. The alleyways they’d run through thus far had led them down to other streets, but this time, he had the kids cornered. Most of the alleyways along the Southside were walled off at the ends of them as that’s where the neighbourhood ended. Residential homes lay on the other side — a stark contrast to the criminal hub next door.

Then, out of the corner of Ed’s eye he spotted it: a small head of black hair poking out from behind a wall just ahead of him. It was the boy. He was looking around probably checking for Ed’s presence. Turning his head around, the boy quickly made eye contact with Ed and flinched.

“HA—I GOT YOU NOW!!” Ed exclaimed maniacally before zooming off in their direction. Falman sheepishly followed behind him muttering to himself about improper conduct and the scaring of children.

Reaching the wall where the boy stood, Ed stopped to take in the landscape of the alleyway. He was right — there was a wall at the end of it. But it seemed to fork outward into two different paths that went behind the buildings. He slowed his pace and carefully looked down each way. Both paths looked nearly identical aside from an empty beer crate down the left side. Taking confidence in his gut instincts, Ed walked down the left path, steadily watching for any sudden movement.

The light crunch of his footsteps against the concrete echoed in the stale air. The sound would no doubt alert the kids to his presence if they were down this path. However, the end of this path almost certainly led to a dead end so there wasn’t really any concern to be had…

Ed slowly came to a halt.

He was about two feet away from the beer crate when he noticed something underneath it. Carefully leaning forward, he peeked through the gaps in the crate and saw a flash of white: there was a paper with an alchemic circle with a pile of matches on top of it.

Heh. Smart kid. But not smart enough.

Ed took another step forward in confidence knowing that the boy would have to touch the circle to activate it and he was nowhere to be seen. Remote activation was a rather difficult thing to temper when it came to alchemy, so there was no way he could—

BOOM!

Falman ran down the alleyway and reached the fork.

“Major Elric! Are you there?!” He called out. A thin mist of smoke leaked in from the left side. Falman squinted down the path, noticing Ed on the ground, a coughing mess. “Major!!”

Falman ran to his partner’s side helping him up to his feet.

“Major, what hap—”

“FALMAN, DID YOU SEE THAT?!” Ed yelled violently shaking him.

Flopping around the poor sergeant responded, “See w- wh—what, s- sir?”

Ed let go of him and picked up the crate with his right gloved hand. It had been burned but not completely destroyed. The pile of matches burned in a heaping pile of embers producing the smoke screen. The small explosion nearly roasted Ed’s nose off, but that would’ve been the extent of the damage. This clearly wasn’t as potent as the alchemic reaction that occurred at the safe house.

Ed leaned down to inspect what remained of the drawn circle. It had been burned up completely and was left unactivated. Damn, what a waste… That’s when Ed noticed the burning trail that led from the match pile down the alleyway and around the corner. Ah, so that’s how he did it, Ed chuckled to himself.

He must’ve activated his own circle out of sight and thought he could activate this one as well by connecting them with a trail of alcohol. Creative, but not technically practical. The flame wouldn’t be enough to start the reaction. Not to mention the crate made the trap incredibly obvious.

Still, even if he failed to conceal it completely, the boy had planted a trap for him to run into — a real live alchemic trap. Ed could barely contain his excitement.

Tempering his approach, Ed followed the burning trail down the alleyway and eventually hit the corner. The alley seemed to wrap around the other side of the building. However, just as Ed suspected, the end of it was blocked off by a tall fence, separating it from the street.

At the end of the alley, Ed saw the two kids: a boy and a young girl, cowering together side-by-side. Ed sighed. Look like he would have to take this the slow way.

“Hey there,” He called out in a calm, lax tone. “Are you two alright?”

Nothing — no response. Ed took another few steps forward.

“That was a pretty nasty trap you set-up back there. Not quite as strong as the one you set off at the house though, was it?”

The boy flinched, a look of panic flashing across his face. Maybe it was too soon to be joking about such a serious incident. After all, they still lacked most of the pieces of what happened at the house. But the look of immense guilt on the boy’s face told Ed everything he needed to know: it wasn’t on purpose.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for,” Ed remarked. “It must’ve been scary dealing with that situation on your own. You’re quite brave for making it out this far by yourselves.”

Ed was still quite a ways from the kids but at least now he could start to see their faces a bit more clearly.

Ed started again, “Do you mind if I ask you some—”

“S… stay back!!” The boy spoke up.

Ed stopped in his tracks. He slowly put his hands up in arrest and lowered himself a bit.

“Okay, okay… It’s alright.” Ed responded keeping a soft, steady tone. The boy remained on guard.

“Wh- who… who are you?” His voice quivered as he spoke.

Ed replied, his hands still up, “My name is Edward. You guys mind telling me your names?”

Before the boy could respond, his eyes suddenly darted towards Sergeant Falman who had just rounded the corner behind Ed. His expression grew desperate again as he got his back up and shuffled backwards with his arm wrapped around the young girl’s shoulder.

Noticing this, Ed furiously signalled to Falman urging him to step back and he promptly complied. When Ed turned back around the kids had backed themselves up against the fence. The boy narrowed his gaze.

“Wh- why should we tell you anything? I didn’t ask you your name—I asked who you are. Now, why are you here? What do you want with us?”

Ed slowly began to lower his hands.

“I’m just here to make sure you guys are safe. That’s all.”

The boy’s expression quickly soured.

“…Then why were you chasing us like that, you freak.” His voice seemed to steady for a moment, tempered by his annoyance.

Ed then recalled his strangled battle cry and his… creative chasing tactics and let out a nervous laugh.

“Ah, sorry about that… Getting tripped with a buncha bottles by a couple of teenagers will do that to you I guess.” Ed shot back with an equal amount of sass in his voice catching the boy off guard for a split second. For a moment, Ed swore he saw the kid smirk before drowning out the emotion on his face with another tight-lipped frown.

The next question Ed had to ask was one he was never particularly fond of but he asked anyway.

“Is there a parent or guardian that knows where you are right now?”

The two kids said nothing. Their big, beady eyes simply stared back at him in fear and frustration. Ed huffed out a sigh. Of course they were scared of him. They looked like they’d gone through the shit and back.

As Ed grew closer, the boy shuffled forward placing himself between Ed and Riza. Ed paused his approach upon seeing this. He thought for a second before asking another question.

“Do you guys have parents or guardians who may be looking for you?”

“No, we don’t. Now go away.” Roy spat out. “What’s it to you if we have parents anyways? We’re not for sale, you know.”

The major stifled a laugh. The kid’s spunk was beginning to grow on him, even if what he was saying was incredibly sad in its own way.

Taking one last step forward, Ed lowered himself to the ground, to be eye level with the boy. He was now about three feet away from them, allowing Ed to get a good look at them. The dark-haired boy reeled back as Ed leaned in towards them.

Seeing them unclose, he caught a good look at the boy’s eyes: sharp, but shaky. He was putting up a pretty decent front but one glance was all it took for Ed to see the terror in the kid’s eyes.

The boy’s eyes shifted to the stars and stripes on Ed’s uniform.

He asked, “A- are you with the military? Did the military send you to get us?” His tone was curious but hostile. Ed would have to choose his words carefully.

“…Yes, they did. But—”

“Prove it then.” The boy shot out immediately. “Show me your identification or whatever. Show me something that’ll prove you aren’t lying.” Ed was a bit taken aback but complied nonetheless.  He pulled out his state watch, unhooking it from his belt, and slid it over to the kid.

The boy’s eagerness to confirm his identity seemed to solidify his theory that the man they pulled out of the fire wasn’t a member of the military at all — that he may have been there for “other” purposes. But that wasn’t a concern to be had for now.

“Here. Is that good enough for you?” Ed asked. The boy carefully picked up the watch and inspected it closely.

Back in Roy’s mind, this object really meant nothing to him since he’d never seen a state watch before. He hardly knew of its significance. But the fact that Ed shared it with him so readily lowered his caution level down a bit. It at least seemed legitimate, and it made Ed seem a bit more genuine as well. Roy tossed it back to him.

“Okay. What do you want with us then? Are you here to arrest us?

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Ed reassured him. “We just want to make sure you guys are safe.”

Roy’s expression darkened again.

“Yeah. You said that already. What does that mean?”

Ed blinked. He had just said that as a nice gesture — he didn’t know what he meant.

Ack. Thorough little bastard.

“We just want to ensure you two aren’t putting yourselves in harm’s way—that’s all. If you agree to come with us, we can even pick up a snack along the way. You guys are probably hungry, right?”

Ed could see Riza’s head slowly nod behind Roy’s shoulder. But Roy didn’t seem convinced just yet.

“You’re gonna take us somewhere?” He asked cautiously.

Ed continued, “We’ll need to have a chat with you about some things surrounding the fire, but I promise: nothing bad will happen if you don’t want to tell us anything. You only have to say what you feel comfortable telling. Does that sound okay?”

Roy stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t getting the same level of hostility he got from those men at the house, but he still couldn’t shake this anxious feeling radiating from his chest. What would be the consequences of trusting this guy? Would they really be safe if he…

Roy felt a small tug on his shirt; it was Riza. That’s right. I should ask Riza what she thinks… But he didn’t need to ask. One look at her face and he knew what she wanted to say: a cautious green light — yes, but we should be careful.

The boy had lived with the girl long enough to know what she meant to say on most days just by looking at her face. There’d be times at the house when Riza would say only a few words throughout the entire day, and days when she’d be completely silent. The silent days were usually when all three of them were at home; and on those days, she’d seldom leave her room.

The house. Her room.

Roy began to remember how Riza’s room looked in his head: tidy, with not much in it. Riza’s room was unlike a lot of other girls or kids in general of her age. She didn’t have toys or books. It was just her clothes in a closet, although she did have one stuffed animal: an old rabbit toy with a worn out ribbon around its neck, and a single sewn-on patch on its right eye. Roy had never asked about it but it looked like something she most likely had since she was a baby. The only other thing in her room was her bed and a small desk with a lamp. She’d sometimes draw or write, but she’d scarcely show any of it to Roy; and she’d definitely never show her father.

Roy could recall the few times where Riza actually spoke to her father, however it was usually behind closed doors. Berthold would sometimes go into her room for long periods of time late at night and then leave without saying a word. There was only one time where Roy ran into him on his way out and he caught a glimpse of Riza in the room, and she looked like she had been crying or upset.

His recollection of the house and his master brought the events of yesterday’s carnage bubbling back up to the surface causing the entire memory to collapse in on itself.

Gone.

There was no going back to that house or the life they were living before.

People were gone, and yet here they remained.

Roy looked back at the young major who was offering them a chance and felt a lump form in his throat. This decision would most likely change the course of everything in his life going forward. And he was determined to see it to that end.

“You promise?” He spoke up, his voice coming out a bit louder, a bit more desperate, than he intended. “You promise that nothing bad will happen if we go with you?”

On a normal day, Ed would have hesitated and corrected himself by saying “…No, I can’t make such a sweeping promise like that to you.” But today was different.

Ed was never any good at making promises as he found the tension of them being broken to be too much to bear. Instead, he would often stall on making any big decisions making him a very indecisive and, at times, extremely frustrating person to be around both at work and at home. He could recall the words of his ex complaining about those very traits to him towards the end of their relationship: “Why can’t you just make up your own mind for once?” But again, for some reason, this time, it felt different.

He felt no hesitation when he spoke with this boy and maybe that was a mistake.

“Yes, I promise.” He affirmed to him.

Well, this would just have to be a mistake he was willing to make then.

The effect of Ed’s reassurance was almost immediate; the boy’s expression softened as the slightest bit of relief washed over him. The girl, however, remained stoically unchanged. At most, she looked a bit less nervous now which was a relief for Ed.

There wasn’t a doubt in Ed’s mind that Roy could trust him and that he in turn would trust him. The boy’s innate alchemic creativity interested him greatly. He wanted to see where this newly found power could go and how far it could reach. Then, another dose of reality began to sink in Ed’s mind.

Avery.

He’d use the boy the moment he got his grubby paws on him. Ed bit his lip in frustration. If the boy really was using Hawkeye’s formulas then…

“Sir? I think the car’s here now.” Falman’s voice broke through Ed’s thoughts.

Ed looked past the fence to see a black car waiting on the other side of it.

“Right. We should get going.”

To complete their pact of trust, Ed thrust out his left hand allowing Roy to slowly reach forward to grab it. Even through his gloves, Ed could feel how rough and beaten up Roy’s hands were — as well as sweaty. They reminded him of the hands of a child who had gone out to play for too long and was now tired and ready to go home. A strange feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he stood up and helped the boy up to his feet. Standing in front of the other, Ed could see that Roy stood just below his height.

Good. He wondered how much growing he had left and hoped it was none.

As they walked through the alley, Riza clung to Roy’s side. Their relationship seemed close but that only seemed natural considering the trauma they had experienced together.

That must be Hawkeye’s daughter, Ed thought to himself. She looked younger than Roy and seemed much more reserved than he was. Getting her to talk would be a challenge for sure. A part of him loathed the thought of Avery being the one to do the interrogation but he would most likely insist on it.

Compared to Roy, she looked rather skinny and small. That could also be amounted to Roy’s sturdier build. He wasn’t a small kid, but he was still soft in the face.

The look in his eyes, however, were what struck Ed the most once they came out of the shadows of the alleyway; they looked tired, guilt-ridden. The sharpness he’d seen before had dulled or maybe it was simply something Ed imagined seeing in the dark. The exhaustion must’ve been catching up to them. And yet, seeing such an emotion reflected in the boy’s eyes… The sight of it made Ed suddenly feel sick and repulsed by him but he couldn’t understand why.

Guiding them to the car, Ed offered the young girl his jacket as she seemed to be shivering from the picked up winds. She shook her head and refused. As they stepped inside, Roy took a moment to stare up at Ed before he closed the door for them. He said nothing, clearly spent from running all day, but kept his eyes locked on Ed. It looked like he was attempting to read something in Ed’s face, calculating something in his head.

Ed gave Roy a smile before shutting the door and quickly shoved Falman into the passenger seat.

“Wha—aren’t you coming? There’s room in the back.” Falman said.

Ed glanced at the kids in the backseat. They were sitting quietly next to each other, saying nothing with exhaustion plastered across both their faces. The girl looked like she was about to fall asleep.

“Agh, it’s okay. I don’t mind walking back. Besides, I think it would be better to give them some space.”

With that, Ed waved off the driver and the car took off down the road disappearing around the corner. Feeling his exhaustion slowly start to hit him, Ed moved himself over to a nearby bench on the sidewalk and plopped onto it with a loud drawn out sigh.

“Must’ve been quite the morning.”

Ed’s flinched at the sound of an older woman’s voice. He looked to his left and indeed there was an old woman sitting right to him. He hadn’t even noticed anyone was there.

“Yeah,” Ed nodded with a smile. “Something like that.” The old woman had a strange look in her eyes, a sort of knowing look that was hard to describe. It left Ed feeling a bit uneasy but. without saying another word, the woman chuckled and stood up off the bench. Ed watched as she walked down the street before letting his neck hang over the backside of the bench.

With his eyes naturally pointed towards the sky, Ed stared up into the clouds admiring the scattered washes of blue and whites above him. The silence of the street enveloped him in a warm sunny embrace and Ed found himself drifting off to sleep.

Hm?

Above him, on top of one of the nearby buildings, Ed caught a glimpse of black. He swore he saw something move — like a head that was peeking over the ledge or something. Strange. It was then that he suddenly remembered where he was geographically and decided his nap would have to continue in the office closet.

“Hah… Just when I thought I could relax.”

Back on his feet, the young major began walking back towards the Central City core — a masked on-looker watching him from afar.