A Brother's Anguish

by FanficsForSoul

Summary:

He squeezed his eyes shut again and waited, his brain swirling with worry and panic. He felt useless. Al was nowhere to be found. Those two bastards attacked him and took his baby brother. What did they want with him? Why did they take Al but not him?

Why didn’t they kill me?

OR

Alphonse and Edward are attacked one evening on the way home. Edward is left injured and Alphonse is taken by unknown assailants. Will Team Mustang be able to locate Alphonse while keeping a panicking older brother from being wreckless?

Notes:

EMETOPHOBIA WARNING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Another multi-chapter fanfic! Woohoo! I don't know what direction this will go in, which is highly unusual for me. But hey! Lets just see what happens! This was also posted on FF.net! Go support me there too!

Chapter 1: A Brother's Fear

Chapter 1:

The night air of Central was crisp. The bustle of the evening commute had died out and now only a few stragglers remained. Amongst those stragglers was a very interesting sight to see to the common man. A short boy with hair in a long, blonde braid sporting a gaudy red coat and a looming seven foot suit of armor. His steps clanked against the hard cobblestone of the sidewalk. The shorter one of the two odd looking individuals was grumbling loudly,

“Ugh! I can’t believe that bastard kept us so late!”

“Brother, you were the one who didn’t get the report in on time…” Alphonse, the looming set of armor said in a small, sweet voice. Edward, the short, state alchemist, stuffed his hands in his pockets and muttered a line of curses under his breath.

“Whatever. We can still make it to the library before they close,” He finally said aloud. The two brothers continued down the dark streets, the only light was coming from the flickering lamps. They made small conversation, discussing their next plans and the alchemic theories they were currently researching. Their conversation was abruptly cut short as a large man bumped into Edwards' flesh shoulder roughly. Ed’s body flung back slightly and he barely managed to stumble back to stability. He quickly whipped around, fuming.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, you drunken brute!” Ed yelled, waving his fist at the man whose back was now facing them. The man stopped in his tracks, he began to turn slowly. He glared at the two brothers, his eyes were dark. A smile crept on his face. A shadow casted across half of his large figure, the street lamp illuminating the other half.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Ed sneered.

“I’m sorry! He didn’t mean to bump into you,” Al apologized. The figure was unmoving, continuing to smile. Ed and Al stared dumbly at him. “Um… Sir?” Alphonse offered again, reaching out slightly towards the man. The man pulled his hand out of his pocket, a glint of a small handgun shone. Before Ed or Al could react, the man poised the gun upwards and fired. There was a brief moment of pure shock and pain erupted in Ed’s shoulder. He felt warm blood trickle down his flesh arm. He grabbed his shoulder and wobbled on his feet, trying to keep himself upright.

“Brother!” Alphonse screamed, rushing forward to disarm the man. Another person approached from the shadows. Alphonse began fighting the two men hand-to-hand, keeping a soulfire eye on his swaying brother.

“Damn it!” Ed forced himself to ignore the pain and poised to clap. There was a quiet thump behind him. Ed's instincts flared and he spun around to see another large figure. The figure was holding a wooden baseball bat. It was held up in two massive hands, ready to strike. Ed tried to clap his hands together, but couldn’t manage it in time. The bat collided with the back of his head. Ed’s vision bursted into stars as he crumpled to the ground. His ears began to ring and his head swam. Bile rose in his throat. He had landed roughly on his injured shoulder, causing a cry to escape his lips. His vision was beginning to ebb out, black forming around the edges.

“Brother!” He heard Al call distantly. He tried to push himself upwards again, but his body wouldn’t cooperate anymore. Ed saw shapes in the short distance. Three dark blobs pounced on one big silver blob. He heard struggling. The silver blob was being overpowered by the three dark ones. Alphonse was calling for him, but he couldn’t respond.

“A-Al…” Ed reached weakly towards him, before he slumped into darkness.
…
“Hello? Little boy? Are you okay?” A feminine voice echoed into Ed’s ears as consciousness gripped back onto him.

“M’ not little,” he protested weakly. His head swirled dangerously, it was like the entire world was tilted. He weakly rolled from his side to his back. The hard stone of the ground was now rubbing uncomfortably into his spine. Despite his desires, he blinked his eyes open. The face of a middle-aged woman came into view. She was wearing a thick layer of makeup. Her long, auburn hair fell past her shoulders and had bright green eyes that were knitted in concern. Ed tried to sit up, pushing on his automail hand. The woman put a hand on his shoulder, gently trying to push him back down.

“You’re hurt! Don’t try to get up,” she urged. Ed weakly shrugged her off, pulling himself into a sitting position. There was a large puddle of crimson formed around him. A pang of pain radiated from the back of his skull and a sharp burning erupted in his shoulder. He swallowed down a mouthful of vomit and tried to piece together what had happened, his brain rattled around, not able to put together the puzzle.

“Al… Where's…” Ed muttered. His eyes shot open wide as he fully pushed himself up to stand. He wobbled and clutched his shoulder. The woman grabbed him by the artificial arm to support him.

“Al! Damn it!” Ed recalled. The three men they had taken Al. Where did they take him? Where did they go? How long was he out? Ed spun around, ignoring the pleas of his brain to stop.

“Did you see a big suit of armor around here?!” He asked frantically. The woman’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“No. You were laying here all alone when I stumbled across you,” she explained. Ed cursed loudly, pushing away from the woman. He wobbled as he walked. He felt like his brain was lagging behind him, telling his body to move later than he had requested it to. The warm feeling trickled down his arm and absorbed uncomfortably into his white glove, staining it a bright red. He ignored the sensations attacking every part of his body as he focused on putting one heavy leg in front of the other.

“Hey where are you going?!” She yelled at him. Ed waved his hand as he continued to stumble down the road. With one large protest of his automail leg, his body gave out and he crumpled to sit on his knees. His face clenched in pain. The entire world was spinning in circles around him. The woman ran frantically up to him and knelt down beside him.

“Let me get you to a hospital!” She insisted. Ed shook his head,

“Phone booth…” He wheezed out through his pained breaths.

“Huh?” She asked, Ed frowned and flopped backwards onto his bottom, his mismatched legs sprawled out in front of him. He dug around in his coat pocket for his notebook. After a few moments he yanked it out and whipped it open. Blinking rapidly, he flipped through the book until he found a blank piece of parchment and grabbed the pen that was wedged between the pages. Shakily, he scratched a number, code, and name into the page. His already terrible handwriting now looked even worse from the heavy automail hand, and traces of blood had plopped onto the note. The simple task seemed to take everything out of the small alchemist as he thrusted the paper to the woman with a sickening twinge on his face.

“Call this number. Tell them where I am.” He urged, annoyed he wasn’t able to do it himself. However, it was taking everything in his power not to vomit all over the sidewalk. The woman hesitated but nodded,

“Alright, I'll do it. Will you be okay?” She asked gently. Ed nodded curtly, immediately regretting the movement. He squeezed his eyes shut in pain and breathed through the spinning. When he opened his eyes again, he was alone. The woman must have left for the phone booth. He slowly, painstakingly brought his knees up to his chest and leaned his head down. He swallowed more bile as he focused on keeping himself upright. The bloodloss had an ice-like grip onto his consciousness. He ripped off his glove on his automail hand and rested the cool steel on his forehead. He didn’t know why, but it brought momentary comfort. He squeezed his eyes shut again and waited, his brain swirling with worry and panic. He felt useless. Al was nowhere to be found. Those two bastards attacked him and took his baby brother. What did they want with him? Why did they take Al but not him?

Why didn’t they kill me?

He shuddered at the mere thought. He could have easily been shot in the head, or chest and died right there on the spot.

Being shot sucked.

He cursed at the tingling, burning sensation now rippling outward from the wound. It didn’t hurt even half as bad as automail surgery, but it was still uncomfortable. He knew being in the military meant that it was a possibility that he would get shot, but it still shocked him right to his core.

He didn’t believe in God, but he silently prayed that help would get there soon. As much as he hated to ask for it, he knew he needed it.
…
Roy Mustang was sitting at his desk begrudgingly. The large stack of paperwork in front of him filled him with dread. He painstakingly glanced at the clock on his wall. It was late, much later than he wanted it to be. Almost everyone else at HQ had gone home for the evening. The only people left were himself, his First Lieutenant Hawkeye, as well as Second Lieutenant Havoc and Breda. They worked in the outer office, sorting through even more paperwork. He rubbed his face in exhaustion and was running on nothing but coffee and a sheer determination to get home before the sun rose. As he sloppily signed his name on another form, the phone rang. He jumped at the sudden noise. Who the hell would be calling him at this hour? His mind was instantly reminded of Hughes, his best friend. He had called late at night. Roy had listened as his blood poured out and he took his last breath. He felt his heart skip a beat. He shook ever so slightly as he raised the receiver.

“You have a phone call from an outside line, do you accept?” The voice of a woman. Roy’s heart sank more. The feeling of dread filled his soul. A bead of sweat began to form into a droplet on his forehead.

“I accept,” he choked out, managing to barely keep his voice steady. There was a click as the line connected,

“This is Colonel Roy Mustang.” He said quickly.

“Um hello?” Roy was slightly taken aback. The voice was that of a woman. One he didn’t recognize. She sounded panicked, confused and slightly out of breath, as if she had been running.

“Who is this? This is a private military line,” He stated, knowing that there would be no way for this woman to connect to the line without a proper code. Whose code had she used? Mustang's heart was plummeting downwards as his mind raced with ‘what ifs’.

“Um… Hello. I was told to call this number by a small boy in a red coat… Do you know who that is?” She asked gently, obviously nervous.

“Fullmetal?” Roy dropped his formalities for a moment, confusion furrowing in his brow. The sweat had begun to pour down his face, Fullmetal gave this woman his code? Why couldn’t he call him himself? Where was Alphonse?

“Um he wouldn’t let me take him to a hospital… He was unconscious on the sidewalk when I found him and his shoulder was bleeding really badly. He told me to call you…” Her voice trailed off. Roy tightened his grip on the receiver. Unconscious? Blood? Hospital?! What the hell happened?!

“Where are you located?” He gulped, keeping his stoic professionalism. The woman told him where they were. He thanked her and slammed down the receiver. Pushing his hands on the desk he stood and grabbed his coat that was draped over the back of the desk chair. He dug in his pocket, ensuring his signature gloves were still there. The gloves that allowed him to perform alchemy, the gloves that he relied sometimes, much too heavily on. He didn’t waste any time striding into the outer office. His three subordinates looked at him with confusion.

“Sir?” Hawkeye questioned, standing. She could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong. Very wrong. Someone who didn’t know Mustang may not have been able to see the panic that was etched into his features, but Hawkeye knew exactly what his expressions meant.

“We need to hurry. Fullmetal is in trouble,” Mustang stated. That was all he needed to say. The three soldiers abruptly stood and gathered their things. Hawkeye grabbed the set of keys to her small vehicle. They wasted no time heading out, hurrying down the hallway with Mustang at the lead, his jaw clenched firmly.

“What happened to the chief?” Havoc asked, trailing in the back, trying to keep up.

“Not sure. It was a woman who called. Said she found him on the sidewalk. Alphonse didn’t seem to be with him.” Mustang rattled off, not slowing down for even a moment. This seemed to satisfy Havoc enough to keep him quiet the rest of the walk down to the parking lot. Hawkeye took the wheel, Mustang was seated next to her with Havoc and Breda in the back. The tires screeched as Hawkeye sped off towards the area the woman depicted. Mustang stared out the window, thrumming his fingers against his leg anxiously. He desperately tried to get the images of Hughes out of his head. This wasn’t it. Ed was fine. Everything would be fine…

…
The waves of nausea failed to cease. Ed didn’t dare move. He didn’t know how much time had passed. But he knew he grew more and more impatient by the second. Alphonse was gone, Alphonse was taken and every second he stayed sitting here trying not to vomit or pass out, was a moment his little brother was still missing. The woman had come back at some point. Ed knew she was talking but couldn’t focus on her voice. He was trapped in his own mind, his thoughts bouncing around the walls of his brain. The resounding, throbbing pain in the back of his head had shifted from a dull roar to a banshee cry. He was thankful that the wound on his shoulder for the most part had simply turned into a large area of throbbing numbness. His body urged him to fall unconscious, to protect itself from the pain, but he forced himself to stay awake. He had to, for Alphonse. Besides, weren’t you supposed to stay awake if you had a concussion? Ed didn’t know. He may have known if he was in a better state of mind, but it was taking every ounce of his energy just to keep himself upright.

“Fullmetal.” A voice, a familiar voice. A deep, grating voice that he usually found obnoxious. Ed painfully lifted his head that felt like it was filled with lead. He opened his eyes, his vision was blurry. He blinked a few times, letting it clear slightly.

“Colonel.” Ed exasperated. He couldn’t quite piece together the expression that the bastard was giving him. He almost looked… Worried? Nah. He couldn’t be worried. That's just the concussion talking. Maybe the bloodloss. Ed began to try and get his legs under him, only for him to list heavily to the side. He could feel hands on his side, propping him upwards. He opened his eyes again, not realizing he had shut them.

“I gotcha chief…”

The person smelled heavily of cigarette smoke, their hands were firm and were the only thing keeping him from toppling over.

“Fullmetal, report. What happened?” Mustang had knelt down now, face to face with Ed. Ed could tell he was studying him intently.

“Al… Alphonse… Th-they took him…” Ed choked out, trying to struggle uselessly away from Havoc’s grasp.

“Who took him?” Mustang prodded. Ed shook his head,

“I don’t know. We need to go, we need to find him.” Ed’s voice began to rise in panic. He felt his heartbeat quicken and his breathing grow slightly more erratic.

“Hey chief, calm down… We’ll find him.” Havoc ensured, his grip still firm on his arm.

“No, we need to go now. I’m fine… I’m-” Ed was cut off by a forceful gag. He listed his head to the side and retched loudly. Bile, spit and the contents of his stomach splat onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing anyone’s person. The force sent his brain spinning once again. His entire body gave out and he slumped to the side, Havoc tightened his grip and pulled Ed towards him, away from the puddle of his own vomit. Blood had begun to seep into Havoc's uniform. He could feel his red coat being peeled away. Then his black jacket as well. He winced as his shoulder was aggravated, the drying blood had stuck the jacket to his body and the pulling sent red hot pain down his entire arm.

“Sorry, chief. I need to get a better look at your shoulder,” Havoc said gently.

“M’ okay… Al…” Ed wheezed, spit still dribbling from his lips.

“You are most certainly not okay. You need a hospital.” Mustang stated, matter-of-factly. Ed groaned,

“N-no… I nee’ to ge’ to Al…” Ed slurred. How could they not understand that? Alphonse was in trouble. Did they not care? Why weren’t they jumping in the car and speeding after him right this second? He shivered from the cold wrapping around his now bare arms.

“Sir. It looks like a gunshot wound. I don’t see an exit.” Havoc informed, ignoring Ed’s pleas.

“You were shot?!” Mustang roared, moving to get a better look at his subordinate's sorry state.

“I’m fine! Al… You hafta fin’ Al!” Ed yelled. He squeezed his eyes shut as his brain sent another wave of nausea.

“We will find Al, okay? Leave it to us. He will be angry if you get hurt further because of him. We need to get you some help,” Mustang informed.

“N-no… No…” Ed protested weakly, forcing his eyes open, only for them to droop closed halfway.

“Chief, stay awake just for a bit longer, okay?” Havoc stated.

“M’ awake, I won’ fall asleep’ not while Al…” Ed trailed off, trying to sound as convincing as possible. But he wasn’t doing a very good job. His eyes slipped shut. He tried to open them again but they were heavy. Incredibly heavy. He felt himself being pulled backwards. “No… No… Al…”

“Shit.” Havoc muttered as he began slapping Ed’s cheek lightly. Ed let out a small groan, trying to rouse himself back to reality. “Come on, chief. Wake up for me.” Havoc began rubbing circles into Ed’s chest. An uncomfortable pain began to emanate from his sternum. The sudden addition of pain woke him slightly. He pried his eyes open, only seeing Havoc as a blob. “There ya go.” Havoc said softly.
…
Mustang’s heart was now in his feet as Ed closed his eyes. Havoc had begun to try and arouse him once again. He couldn’t think of anything, but was thinking of everything at the same time. His subordinate was attacked, shot. and his brother was taken. Mustang felt a massive headache starting.

“Sir.” Mustang turned to see Hawkeye and Breda standing above. The woman was gone now, he assumed that the two had just finished questioning her. “What do we do now?” She asked, her eyes flitting to Ed’s wilted form. A flash of worry struck her irises, but she quickly put the mask back up. Mustang stood and turned to Havoc.

“We need to get him to a hospital. Hawkeye, you drive. Havoc you keep trying to keep him awake,” Mustang ordered. Breda and Hawkeye saluted as Havoc slowly got up with his new burden in his arms. Ed was small, but heavy with the addition of two fully steel limbs. Mustang helped get Havoc settled on his feet.

“Stop… No hospital… Al, we need to get to Al… Go find Al. Leave me here…” Ed continued to slur weakly. No one responded, but Havoc’s grip on him tightened. If Ed were in his usual state he’d be jumping out of Havoc’s arms, embarrassed and angry. However, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care how vulnerable he looked. Mustang opened the back door and Breda helped Havoc gently settle on the smooth leather. Ed let out a groan, his lips moving as if he was forming words but it was so muddled and slurred no one could make it out. Mustang shut the door as Breda rounded to get in on the other side. Once everyone was settled, Hawkeye sped off, the tires screeching as she pulled away.

…
Everything was a blur.

The last thing he had clearly recalled was Havoc holding him. After that, only snippets of information clung onto his concussed brain. He dully recalled being put in a car. Hushed voices. Lights, darkness. Everything else was muddled, like a puddle in the rain. He was awake, but not awake. He was unconscious but painfully conscious. Everything was confusing. Why was everything so damn confusing?

He was being jostled. His brain screamed out at him in anger. He tried to tell whoever was carrying him to stop. To slow down, to let him sleep. But, his lips wouldn’t move as he wanted them to. Then there were lights, bright lights that burned his half opened eyes. He was being laid down on something soft. He sunk down into it. There were hands on him but he didn’t care. He was so… tired… Their touches were like ghosts, soft and barely registering.

He let himself sink fully into the bed into a blissful unknowing.

…
About an hour had passed since Alphonse was taken away from his brother. His armor rattled with worry. The last image he had of Edward was him laying on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot wound.

He was pissed at himself. He let his guard down, he let the surprise consume him. They had tackled him, tied his gauntlets behind him and placed a bag over his head. Everything was dark. He tried to wretch himself free, but it seemed the assailants knew what they were doing. He was moved into a car, he knew from the dull hum of the engine and the rumble of the road beneath him. He was yelling at them the entire time, but they refused to answer him. Staying totally silent. Where was his brother? Was he taken too?

“Brother! Brother are you here?” He asked frantically. There was no response. “Damn it, someone answer me!”

“Can’t we shut him up?” A deep voice spat.

“How do we shut up something that doesn’t have a mouth?!” Another voice replied, their voice a bit lighter and higher pitched.

“Tell me what’s going on, where’s my brother?!” Al demanded.

“We can’t answer that. We were only instructed to take you. Nothing more, nothing less. So shut up and wait.” The deep voice said.

“What do you mean you can’t answer that?! Where are we going? Who is your boss?” Al rambled. Silence continued. They stopped responding. Al kept quiet at this point. There was no point in continuing to yell to something that wouldn’t answer. He instead shifted his focus to thinking of a way to get out of here. To get his brother out of here, if he was even with him. He sincerely hoped he wasn’t.

Chapter 2: A Brother's Determination

Notes:

Slight graphic description warning... Sorta? Anyways, I like the direction i'm going with this, but let me know what you think! Excited to keep this going!

Chapter 2: A Brother’s Determination

Roy Mustang was tired. 

 

Not only had he been stuck at the office all day and most of the evening, he now had a much bigger problem on his plate. 

 

Alphonse Elric was missing, taken by some unknown assailants and his older brother was injured. Shot. He rubbed his face, already feeling the bags forming under his eyes. 

 

“Sir, maybe you should go get some rest,” Hawkeye suggested, her copper eyes studying him intently. He waved her off and turned back to the paper he was reading. They had set up in a small conference room within the military hospital. As soon as Edward was wheeled into surgery, they got to work trying to locate the missing suit of armor. Hawkeye and Breda had made several phone calls around the sects of Central, putting out an APB on the brother while Havoc and Mustang mulled over recent crimes in the city. It had been about two hours and they were still without leads and still without an update on Edward’s condition. 

Breda entered the conference room and sighed, sitting heavily into one of the chairs. 

 

“Well?”  Mustang prodded,

 

“I asked the investigations department if they could send us a search team, but they said they were too busy to worry about one citizen,” Breda sighed. 

 

“You did mention he was the Fullmetal Alchemist's little brother, right?” Havoc asked. 

 

“Of course I did, I’m not an idiot.” Breda scoffed. 

 

“Well, that just means that we are on our own.” Mustang noted, he turned to Hawkeye and gave her a knowing look. “Go get Falman and Fuery. We’re gonna need all the hands we can get.” 

 

“Sir.” Hakweye gave a salute and left without another word. The three men continued mulling over the stack of reports once again. 

 

“What about this string of kidnappings from last month?” Havoc slid a paper over to Mustang, who scanned it over quickly. He handed the paper back and shook his head,

 

“These guys only took women, besides, they were already caught and convicted…” He said, Havoc sighed and put the paper on a growing stack of dead leads. 

 

A knock at the door caused the three men to jump from their stupor. 

 

“Come in.” Mustang called, the doorknob turned slowly and a small man in a white coat entered. He wore a gentle face that was wrinkled from years of experience. His hair was an ashy gray and was balding on top. A clipboard was clutched in his hand. 

 

“You are Edward Elric’s guardian?” He prodded, eyeing the bunch. Mustang stood,

 

“Yes. I am his commanding officer, Roy Mustang.” He informed, shaking the man's hand.

 

“Shall we go somewhere else to discuss young Edwards' condition?” The doctor asked, eyeing the two soldiers still sitting around the table.  

 

“They are fine to listen in. Please, come sit.” Mustang offered, stepping to the side. The doctor nodded and took a seat in one of the folding chairs. Mustang pulled another one up from the corner and sat down next to him. 

 

“Alright, well… First and foremost, Major Elric is going to be fine.” He started, the team let out a sigh of relief. The tension in their muscles melted away slightly at the news. 

 

“We managed to remove the bullet. Thankfully it entered cleanly and didn’t knick anything too important. It did scrape his clavicle, leaving him with a pretty nasty bone bruise but that should heal just fine… He has lost quite a bit of blood. We gave him a transfusion to replace it and put him on fluids for the time being. He does have a moderate concussion, but no skull or brain damage. He got off lucky. It could have been much, much worse.” The doctor informed, flipping through the chart. Mustang leaned back, his pounding heart finally easing slightly. One problem off of his plate. Ed was going to be alright. He glanced over to Havoc and Breda who seemed to share in his sentiment. 

 

“We have posted the guard you wanted at his door… However, please advise him to keep his shirt on. We’ve already had three nurses complain about it.” The doctor said, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Yes, of course. May we go see him?” Mustang chuckled lightly. 

 

“He won’t be awake for a while, but as long as you keep it down, you may visit,” the doctor smiled. He pushed up on his legs, getting up with a slight strain. “He’s in room 105, just down this hallway.” The doctor left silently, closing the door gently behind him. 

 

“Man. Poor kid.” Breda sighed, 

 

“I’m more worried about us…” Havoc gulped.

 

“Why is that, lieutenant?” Mustang inquired, raising his eyebrows in questioning. 

 

“You really think we will be able to keep Ed cooped up in a hospital room while his brother is missing?” 

 

Oh.

 

Oh God. 

 

When one problem seems to be solved, another rises. Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh. 

 

This was going to be a long night. 

 

…

Alphonse Elric had remained silent for the remainder of the car ride. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He tried counting the seconds, but every bump or rattle of the vehicle made him lose focus. 

 

He remained silent as he was roughly drug out of the vehicle, the bag still covering his head.

 

He remained silent as they pushed him into a building. The only way he knew they had moved to an indoor space was by the many sounds surrounding him.

 

He remained silent as he heard a scraping sound. That he soon realized was the sound of his own armored body being tampered with. 

 

He was silent. Completely silent. 

 

When the bag was removed, however,

 

Alphonse Elric screamed. 

 

Without vocal cords to go raw, his scream could have lasted forever. He couldn’t feel a heart racing, or sweat ebbing out of his skin. He couldn’t have thrown up from the sight he saw, no matter how much he desperately wanted to. So, he continued to scream hysterically. 

 

For in front of him was a pile of rotting female corpses. 

 

…

“Edward.” 

 

Whose voice was that?

 

“Wake up, Edward.” 

 

A voice as sweet as honey… 

 

“Big brother!”

 

Another voice. One so bright and full of life. 

 

“Let’s play.” 

 

Edward opened his eyes. He was laying in a bed, a bed he had long forgotten about, in a house he hadn’t seen in years. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows, creating small beams of light. Birds were chirping outside, calling him to wake up. Ed sat up lazily, rubbing his eyes. He looked at his hands. They were smaller than he remembered. 

 

“Big brother!” Ed glanced over to see Al, his short blonde hair bouncing with excitement. 

 

“Hey Al…” Ed said with a yawn. He couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t right. Was Al always this small? Everything was fuzzy, as if he had just woken up from a long dream. However, he struggled to recall it. 

 

“Mom made breakfast! Hurry up!” Al sang, pattering his bare feet across the wooden floor. Ed smiled and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He hopped off the bed and as his feet landed…

 

Everything fell apart. The floor was gone, the walls had melted away. He was falling in a dark void. Fear clutched onto his soul, he felt like he was being torn apart as black hands grabbed him. Tears pricked his eyes. 

 

“Edward…” 

 

“Mom! Mom, help me!” Ed cried out, reaching towards the voice. A hand grabbed back, he felt a moment of relief until he saw how decayed the hand was. He pulled his head upwards and two vacant eyes were met. Bones and flesh poked out from every angle, looking inhuman. 

 

“Why did you bring me back?” The voice cried, a broken version of their mothers. Ed tried to yank the hand away, but its grip was tight on his wrist. He watched as his arm shifted from the small flesh one, to one made of steel. He looked down as something grabbed onto his leg. Alphonse was crying. His body was splitting apart, every inch of his flesh was being replaced with armor. 

 

“Help me big brother…” He begged. Ed screamed as his leg tore apart. It too, being replaced with steel. 

 

“Let’s play!” Ed’s head jerked backwards seeing Nina’s chimera form staring back at him. It was unmoving, its eyes were bleeding. 

 

“You selfish boy!” The familiar voice of Truth echoed as Ed crashed into a void of white. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak. Everything was ringing in his mind as knowledge was forcibly shoved into him. It entered through his nose, his ears, his eyes and came out his mouth in screams. He could hear distant laughter. Everything spun around and around. 

 

Until he bolted upwards with a gasp of air. His heart was racing. A small monitor was beeping loudly. Ed’s chest heaved with every breath and his lungs struggled to capture any air. He was trembling, covered in a thick layer of sweat. His hair, now down around his shoulders, was clinging to his forehead. A sharp pain struck his shoulder. He winced and clutched it, doubling over. He heard the cacophony of people around him. Some hands were on him, but he could hardly feel them. His mind was only focusing on calming itself down. Regrounding back to reality. More ragged wheezes escaped his throat as the sounds of real life entered his ears. 

 

“Fullmetal, you need to lie down.” Ed jerked his head upwards, finally grasping on to some form of normalcy. His eyes met with the onyx orbs of the Colonels. His breaths slowed down but still came in short gasps. 

 

“Colonel…” Ed heaved, feeling suddenly very, very tired.

 

“I got the doctor!” Ed’s eyes flitted over to the door, where Havoc and a man dressed in white had entered. The doctor crossed over and took the place of his superior officer. A light shone in his eyes and hands were on his shoulder. He flinched back when the hands hit a particularly sore spot. 

 

“Sorry.” The man in white replied, his voice void of any real concern. 

 

As Ed’s mind tethered itself, he began to grasp where he was. The poorly painted walls, the bright lights and the strong smell of chemicals were enough to tell him he was in a hospital. He then was able to register who was all in the room with him. Mustang and Havoc were to his left, standing by the bed, surveying with the doctor. Breda was behind them, eyeing cautiously. Standing in the doorway was Armstrong, tears streaming down his eyes, which was not an uncommon sight. 

 

He then realized someone was missing. 

 

Someone important.

 

“Where’s Al…?” Ed said, realization slamming into him. 

 

“Ed, you need to listen to us-” Mustang began. 

 

He was cut off by a loud crashing noise. Ed had pushed his way out of the bed to be fully standing. The IV pole that was next to his bed had fallen over as a result and pulled the line right out of Ed’s elbow. A small bead of blood ran freely from his arm, but he didn’t seem to notice. Adrenaline and anger was pumping through his veins. He reached up and grabbed Mustang by the collar with his automail hand, only barely able to get a grasp on him due to the height difference. 

 

“Why did you bring me here?! Why haven’t you gone after the bastards that took him!? I told you to leave me!” Mustang grabbed Ed’s arm and flung him backwards, he stumbled and barely managed to catch himself on the bed. He glared at his superior officer, rage flaring in his golden eyes. 

 

“We weren’t just going to leave you there to die! Do you even realize what happened to you? You were shot and hit unconscious. You are an idiot if you think we would just let you bleed out on the sidewalk!” Mustang fumed. 

 

“Ed… We’ve been doing everything we can to find Alphonse, I promise…” Havoc tried to reason, putting a hand on the Colonel's shoulder. 

 

“Don’t try that with me! If you were doing everything you could, you wouldn’t be in here right now!” Ed yelled, his screams bouncing off of the walls. A few nurses had poked their heads in to watch the chaos. One of them had entered and began talking to the doctor. 

 

“Stop acting like a child!” Mustang yelled, his voice roaring over Ed’s. Everything stopped in that moment, as if the world was put on pause. Ed’s gaze casted downwards, his bangs hiding his tear-filled eyes. 

 

“Fine. I’ll just go myself.” Ed stated, standing. He turned to leave, only to be met by Breda who was blocking his path. 

 

“Move.” Ed said darkly. Breda looked slightly taken aback by his tone, one he had never heard before. But he remained still. 

“You can’t leave. Not only are you injured, but it isn’t safe. You are to be here under protective custody until further notice,” Mustang informed, moving to Ed’s side. 

 

“Like Hell I'm staying here while Al is in trouble.” Ed’s voice had shifted to be devoid of all emotion. It was a new sight for everyone in the room, their usual explosive little alchemist had completely changed his demeanor. Ed clenched his automail fist. His head was pounding and his shoulder burned but he didn’t care. Alphonse needed him and he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him. With one swift movement he ran forward, dodging Breda’s hands. He knew he wasn’t going to get through the door, not with Armstrong there so he made a b-line for the window. A hand grasped his injured shoulder, causing the small alchemist to wince and grit his teeth. He felt another arm loop under his automail and pin his arm back. He bucked and squirmed trying to break free.  

 

“Get away from me! Damn it! I need to get to him!” Ed cried, his voice now sounding desperate. His head pulsed and nausea gripped onto him tightly, his shoulder had begun bleeding again and was now staining his hospital shirt. He was only able to keep going through pure stubbornness. 

 

“Doctor!” Mustang yelled, Ed’s heart sank as he looked behind him to see the glint of a needle. 

 

“No! No! I need to get to him I-” Ed went silent as the needle was plunged into his neck. After a few brief seconds, his entire body reduced to Jelly. His legs buckled from under him. He felt his mind grow clouded. It was like weights were tied to him, pulling him down to the ground. The grip on him loosened and gently guided him to the floor. 

 

“No… D-damn you I… Al… He needs… Me…” Ed’s eyes closed despite his wishes and he fell into nothingness. 

 

…

Mustang wiped the sweat from his brow. Ed was cradled in Havoc’s lap, his eyes gently closed and body limp. A few nurses had made their way in the room and were quick to Ed’s side, helping Havoc move him to the bed. The doctor silently began working on the boy, peeling off his shirt and repairing the stitches that had popped loose. The nurses busied themselves. One of them placed a wad of gauze on the bleeding crook of his arm and another  hooked up another IV, the line now being placed in the back of his hand. Another cleaned the blood off of Ed’s body and the floor. 

 

Breda had slumped into one of the chairs in the room, his eyes locked on the still form of Edward. Havoc was hovering around the bed nervously watching as the nurses tended to them. Armstrong had resumed his post, not daring to look in. The atmosphere in the tiny hospital room was silent. Gut Wrenching. Mustang moved to sit in the other chair and leaned over, putting his head in his hands. He hated being vulnerable, but the combination of his fatigue and the outburst had taken it out of him. 

 

Edward was a child. A scared, traumatized child who relied on his brother to keep sane. Everyone on Team Mustang knew this. Wherever one brother was, the other was beside them. Now, they were torn apart. One missing and the other too weak to do anything about it. Mustang sympathized with Fullmetal. He has felt the same way ever since Hughes was killed. He felt determined to find the killer. Determined to get revenge. Yet, he had come up with nothing. 

 

“Colonel Mustang?” Mustang perked his head up. The doctor was standing in front of him, his rounded glasses glinting in the bright light above. 

 

“My apologies.” Mustang stood. “Thank you for your help.” 

 

“No worries. I patched him back up, the sedative should last a few hours. When he begins to wake again, please come get me.” He smiled, Roy nodded in response and watched as the gaggle of medical personnel exited the room, leaving only the three men and their sleeping teen. 

 

“Sir? What’s next?” Havoc asked.

 

“Edward is right. We shouldn’t be sitting here while Alphonse is missing. Every second counts. Once Hawkeye is back, we move.” Mustang declared, fire burning in his chest. Breda and Havoc nodded, their eyes steeled with the same fire. 

 

They would find him. 

 

And make those bastards pay for harming his subordinates. 

Chapter 3: A Brothers Plan

Summary:

TW: Somewhat graphic descriptions of corpses in this chapter!

Edward can't sit still in a cozy hospital room while his brother is missing. It was his fault he got kidnapped, now its his job to bring him back. He is determined that no one is going to stop him.

Meanwhile, Mustang and the crew continue to search for their favorite civilian.

Meanwhile, Meanwhile: Alphonse thinks of a way out of this mess.

Notes:

Wowie! Sorry I haven't updated in a hot second. I went to an anime convention this past weekend, which was so much fun! I spent way too much money but SCORED the Alex Armstrong pop figure and the Glow Chase Edward Elric pop figure. I am SO CLOSE to having them all. I am only missing Winry and the OG Alphonse. (I have the hot topic exclusive one with him and the kitties). But here we are, lets keep it moving shall we? I have some ideas... But as I write, things change. So who knows what direction our little alchemist and friends will go down! Enjoy!

Chapter 3: A Brother’s Plan 

 

Riza Hawkeye was many things. She was a warrior, a sharpshooter, a loyal teammate. Sometimes she forgot that among those many things, she was also a human being. A being with complex emotions. A being who made deep connections with others.  However, She was painfully reminded of her humanity as she drove down the long stretch of road. Her breaths were heavy with anxiety and if the steering wheel were alive, it would currently be getting strangled with how tight her grip was. 

 

As she drove through the empty, dark streets her eyes darted around aimlessly, hoping to spot the suit of armor, or any signs of him. As each second passed, her anxiety grew louder and louder until it was almost deafening. 

 

She stopped outside of Falmans apartment and let out a sigh, loosening her grip slightly as she forced herself to calm down. She had to remain calm. Remain collected. She had gotten very good at it through her time in Ishval. She was able to shove emotions down and not let herself feel. She could become an empty husk if she just focused. 

 

The sound of a car door opening roused her back to her senses. 

 

“Hey.” Falman greeted her, his kind smile giving her a moment of reprieve. 

 

This wasn’t Ishval. She wasn’t alone. 

 

Together they would find them. 

 

She sped off towards Feury’s apartment, filling in Falman with the few details that they knew. He listened without question, his eyes focused forward, taking in every word. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head. 

 

They reached Feury’s home in record time. The small man was already standing outside, a large radio was under his arm. He got into the back seat with a hardened look on his face and didn’t waste any time setting the radio down and putting on a pair of headphones. He got to work, listening through every station imaginable. Hawkeye let out a huff of relief. 

 

Yeah. They’d find him. 

 

…

Alphonse Elric felt as exhausted as you could in a body that couldn’t get tired. After minutes of screaming non-stop, the shock was finally wearing off and he was able to return to his senses. The armored boy couldn’t bring himself to look away from the dilapidated bodies of the women in front of him. Some were older than others, their bodies already decomposing. Others looked to merely be sleeping. The only indication that they weren’t alive any longer was the deathly blue tinge to their skin and the obvious gashes across their body. Alphonse was grateful he couldn’t smell anything. He was sure he would have vomited if he could. Flies had infested the area, buzzing about the corpses and crawling into their hung open mouths. 

 

Now that Alphonse was able to think somewhat clearly, he took stock of his situation. His hands were gone and his legs had been crudely sawed off. He couldn’t move or transmute, the only part of his body he had any control over now was his head. As far as he could tell, his captors had left, probably not wanting to spend any more time in this filth than they had to. 

 

Alphonse also noted that Edward was not with him, which he was thankful for. However, his worry still grasped tightly onto his soul. His brother was hurt, shot and bleeding all alone. It was late, but not so late that no one would stumble across him. He hoped that help had arrived for Ed and he was getting the treatment he needed. He had to trust that Edward was okay and clear his mind from those thoughts. He needed all his focus in order to figure a way out of this. 

 

A door slamming caught his attention

 

“He is in here, sir.” The deep voice echoed through the large warehouse space. He could hear footsteps clanging towards him but couldn’t see. The only light was shining directly above him and it only shone about three feet in each direction. As the footsteps grew louder, he could make out two distinct figures in the distance, their dark shadows getting closer with each passing second. 

 

“Who are you?! What do you want?!” Alphonse yelled, no longer able to take it anymore. The figures came into full focus now. He noticed one of them from the attack. The big one that was carrying the baseball bat. The other figure was an older and shorter man. Probably in his late fifties. His once brown hair had wisps of gray speckled throughout his head. They both had masks strapped to their faces. 

 

“So, you are the Fullmetal Alchemist, hm?” The older man prodded. Alphonse was confused. They didn’t want him at all? They had simply mistook him for his older brother? He shuddered, knowing that Edward was their original target. If they had gotten their information right, Ed would have been the one subjected to this kind of treatment. He would have had to see and smell this horror. 

 

Al knew he had to play along. For Ed’s safety. 

 

“What do you want with me?” Alphonse inquired, his voice strong. 

 

“It is simple. I want you to bring someone back to life for me.” 

 

…

The dizzy enthralls of consciousness were becoming too common for Edward. Waking up dazed and confused, not able to grasp where he was or what had happened. His head pounded fiercely and the cottony grips of whatever was coursing through his veins left his mind feeling like a melted candle that tried desperately to still flicker. He knew he had to open his eyes, but he couldn’t put together why. Why did he need to wake up? What was so urgent that he had to peel his heavy eyes open? He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and to plunge into darkness. 

 

“Sir.” A female voice spoke in a hushed whisper. He heard a door opening and a shuffle. His ears were trained on every sound within the room. Upon hearing the voices, he roused himself awake a bit more, forcing his critical thinking skills to work through the molasses that was his brain. He continued to feign sleep, wanting to listen in without disturbance. 

 

“Lieutenant.” Ed knew that voice immediately, placing the face of the Colonel Bastard himself. From what he could tell, Mustang was to his right and was fairly close to him. 

 

“How is he?” Ed finally was able to place Riza’s face to the feminine voice. He was confused at her gentle tone. 

 

“He woke up for a bit… We had to sedate him to calm him down…” 

 

Ed wanted to spring up from the bed in a flurry of anger as he remembered why he had fallen asleep in the first place. Alphonse. Alphonse was missing. Ed wanted to go look for him and the bastard stopped him. He managed to restrain himself, keeping his breaths even and calm as to not arouse suspicion at his consciousness. 

 

He had to wait. He could do that, as much as he didn’t want to, he needed to for Al. 

 

“I see.” Riza’s voice was calm and collected as usual. “Falman and Fuery are in the conference room with Havoc and Breda.” She informed. 

 

“I see. Have them continue the search, we need a solid lead before we go running around Central.” Mustang ordered. 

 

“Right. I’ll report back if we find anything.” She stated, Ed could hear the door open and shut and the room was left quiet once again. Occasionally, he could hear Mustang shift or breathe, but otherwise it was still. He pondered with himself, does he risk opening his eyes? He thought through his options.

 

He could wake up and try to flee out the window before Mustang could grab him. Ed was small and agile, but with a concussion, a sedative and a bullet wound he doubted he would succeed. As much as he hated to admit it. 

 

He could open his eyes and try to talk with Mustang about letting him out, but he knew that too was probably a dead end. If he woke up now; Mustang would never leave him alone, which would destroy his chances at escape. 

 

So, he was left with the only option he had left… 

 

Wait. Mustang was bound to leave at some point, and the moment he did; Ed would slip out without a trace. He would go back to the place he and Al were attacked and he would find his brother himself. Ed’s guilt crept up into him. While he was laying in a cozy hospital bed, Alphonse was somewhere with complete strangers, taken to some unknown location with an unknown motive. Now Team Mustang were pulling overtime hours just to help him. 

 

If I hadn’t been so damn weak, I coulda stopped those assholes. I coulda protected him. It’s my fault he got taken and I will get him back. I don’t need anyone's help.

 

…

It had been two hours since Edward Elric was sedated and five since Alphonse Elric was kidnapped. Roy Mustang was exhausted. It was now cresting three in the morning. Mustang could feel his eyes droop with every blink he took, his body aching from the cheap, plastic hospital chairs. Edward still lay prone in the bed in front of him, his breaths even and deep. The hospital room was dark and unnervingly still. With each moment that passed, Roy’s anxiety increased. He bounced his leg and twiddled his thumbs in a hope to spew out the nervous energy entrapped in his body. 

 

Another thirty minutes passed like this. 

 

The sound of the hospital door sliding open awoke Roy from his momentary dozing. Riza strode in, a bundle of files under her arm. Roy’s stomach leaped in hope. He stood, careful to not be too loud. Riza silently handed him the files. 

 

“What is this?” Mustang asked, flipping through the folders. 

 

“Havoc looked back on that case from last month. The one where the twenty women were kidnapped in the Eastern part of Central.” She began, Roy looked at her quizzically.

 

“That case was solved, though. I told him that,” 

 

“Turns out there's more to it than that. Look on page three.” Hawkeye suggested. Mustang flipped to the designated page and scanned the document quickly. He felt his stomach flip inside out as he read. 

 

“How come I haven’t heard anything about this?” Mustang asked, his grip on the papers tightening. 

 

“Seems the military wants to avoid the embarrassment,” She replied. 

 

“So you’re telling me that the two men that were convicted and killed by the firing squad were innocent?!” Mustang fumed, his voice still a hushed whisper. 

 

“Seems that way sir. The twenty women who were taken all had connections in some capacity to The Gilded Donkey. A brothel on the south side of Central. The two men who were convicted were working as security. Things were pretty quiet for about two weeks after their arrest and execution,  but now…” 

 

“Now four more women who had the same connections are missing.” Mustang finished for her. 

 

“Yes sir. On page four it details the current open investigation being conducted, but a lot of the information is missing,” Hawkeye replied. 

 

“Investigations are probably hiding it to avoid the papers getting ahold of this.” Mustang concluded. 

 

“Correct. However, Breda was able to contact Scheska and get the information from her.” Hawkeye replied. “We have written that information down on page seven.” 

 

Mustang flipped to page seven, reading every word. He was thankful for Breda’s quick thinking and he made a mental note to buy him a beer once this was all over with. 

 

“So, they have a list of potential suspects…” Mustang said, thinking aloud. 

 

“Yes sir. Two in particular caught our attention. Thomas Reinbuckle and his son, James. Thomas is the current owner of the brothel and his son James is said to be soon taking over the family business… After the first investigation, The Gilded Donkey closed down. Thomas and James soon went missing after that.” Hawkeye summarized. 

 

“What does any of this have to do with Alphonse? He doesn’t match their target demographic,” Mustang noted. 

 

“Page eight. An obituary. Two months ago, Thomas’ daughter Alexandra was killed in a car accident. According to Scheska’s information, regular patrons were interviewed after the first disappearances. They noted that Thomas and James completely changed after Alexandra’s death. They became closed off and grew more and more distant from the business itself… What really caught our attention though was where they began to spend most of their time…” 

 

“The Central Library of Public Records…” Mustang heaved, reading the page for himself. 

 

“They had checked out forty five different research dissertations. All of which came from bio-alchemists.” Hawkeye revealed. 

 

“How did investigations not suspect them right off the bat?!” Mustang questioned. 

 

“The evidence against the security guards was quite telling. My guess is James and Thomas set those two men up to get the trail off of them.” Hawkeye replied. Mustang let out a loud sigh, his face shining with sweat. 

 

“You don’t think…” 

 

“Yes sir. I’m afraid I think it is true.” Hawkeye interjected, knowing what the Colonel was about to say. 

 

They wanted to bring their daughter back to life. 

…

Edward was seething, his heart pounded out of his chest. He was glad that the doctors did not have him hooked on a monitor, otherwise they’d probably think he was having a heart attack. It took everything in his power not to move. He listened in on every word Hawkeye and Mustang were saying and making mental notes of the information. He had a lead and now he just needed his moment to escape. 

 

“How did they find out?” Ed heard Mustang’s exasperated voice ask. 

 

“Not sure. What do you suppose we do, sir?” Hawkeye asked. 

 

“Lets go to the conference room, I want to talk with the others before we move out. Speak of this to no one. If word were to get out about why they kidnapped Alphonse…” Ed heard Mustang’s voice trail off. Ed never admitted it, but he was grateful to the Colonel for being so careful with their secret. He always made sure that the two brothers would never be found out. He covered for them, without Ed or Al asking him to. 

 

This is why Edward decided he had to handle this on his own. Mustang had already helped him and his brother through so much. He didn’t want to burden him any further. He didn’t want to put Mustang and the team in danger just to help them. Ed mentally berated himself. It was his fault Alphonse was taken, his fault that Mustang and the others were here right now. If he was quicker or stronger he could have dodged the bullet and beat the bastards off. But he wasn’t quick enough. He wasn’t strong enough, and now he had to pay for that. But he refused to let anyone else pay for his shortcomings. He was going to get Alphonse back and beat those bastards senseless on his own. 

 

Edward quickly shook from his thoughts as he heard feet shuffling across the floor. 

 

“Will Edward be alright by himself?” Hawkeye asked. 

 

“Armstrong is guarding the door and I have a guard posted outside his window as well. I’ll instruct the doctor to peek his head in every so often to check on him.” Mustang decided. Ed wanted to curse out loud. 

 

“ Bastard thought of everything, didn’t he?” Ed thought. He heard the shuffles grow quieter as the door was opened and shut again, leaving him in silence. Ed peeked one of his eyes open, confirming he was alone. He forced himself up into a sitting position, wincing as his stitches pulled and his head swam. The room was dark, which he was thankful for. He didn’t think his eyes could take the strain. He blinked a few times to clear his vision and began to think of his escape. He silently swung his legs over the bed and stood. He felt a sharp pull on his hand. With a wince he glanced down and saw the I.V line stretching up to the pole. A clear liquid was being pumped into his veins. He gingerly pulled the line out. The liquid now began to drip silently onto the floor. A bead of blood bubbled from his hand. He huffed and began tip-toeing around the room, trying to find a makeshift bandage. He shuffled around some drawers until he found a nice roll of gauze. 

 

Once he had patched himself up, he crept to the window and peered out. Brosh was pacing back and forth directly in front. He sighed and moved back to the bed, wracking his brain with what to do next. Brosh was not stupid. He wouldn’t just let Ed slip away if he could help it. Ed suddenly knew what he had to do. He was aware it probably would get him in a heap of trouble later on, but at this point he didn’t really care. He stood from the bed again, ignoring the waft of nausea and exhaustion that plagued his mind. After a moment he crossed silently over to the window. Brosh was now just to the left of the window, leaning against the wall. 

 

“ Perfect. Sorry Brosh. Forgive me for this.” Ed thought as he clapped his hands together as quietly as possible. He placed his palms on the wall to the left of the window. Using his knowledge of the composition of the building, he was able to easily ensnare Brosh in a large, stone hand. Edward made sure to not make it grasp him too tight, and instead just had it trap him enough for Ed to slip away. Brosh began yelling for help. Ed opened the window and crawled out. He winced as his shoulder pulled. Brosh was looking at him furiously. 

 

“Edward! What are you doing?! Let me out of here!” Brosh demanded. 

 

“Sorry. I need to get to my brother.” Ed apologized, running away as fast as he could into the deep night of Central. 

 

“Ed, come back here! Damn it!” Ed heard Brosh distantly yell. Edward kept moving. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Mustang and the others found out about his disappearance, especially with Brosh wailing like he was. 

So, he continued to run. Even with bare feet he still managed to move decently fast. His automail foot clunked loudly with every step. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline rushing through his body, Ed knew he wouldn’t be able to move like this. His shoulder was aching and his head had turned into a whirlpool of dizziness. However, none of it mattered. Alphonse needed his big brother and he needed him fast.

Chapter 4: A Brothers Reunion

Summary:

Ed is on the loose, team Mustang is on the case!

Notes:

Another chapter that I wrote much too quickly. Winging it as I go along is an interesting thing. I hope you enjoy! Not sure how long I am going to make this series. I could make it super long, or have it be wrapped up soon. Any advice?

Anywho! Enjoy! Hopefully I don't read through it later and find glaring mistakes... Please let me know if there are any... haha...

“Colonel!” A gruff voice yelled, swinging open the door to the conference room. Everyone was splayed around the table, searching document after document and pouring over a map of Central. Immediately, all eyes turned to the disgruntled visitor. Alex Louis Armstrong was panting heavily, his eyes wide with panic. Mustang’s heart leaped in his chest at the sight of him, because that could only mean one thing.

“He didn’t…” Mustang trailed off, Armstrong nodded.

“Damn it!” Mustang slammed down the file he was currently working on and rushed out of the room. His team was quick to follow, leaving everything paused in the small conference room.

“What happened?” Mustang asked as they walked.

“I heard Sergeant Brosh yelling and immediately ran in the room. The window was wide open and the poor fellow was pinned to the wall in a stone fist. There was no sign of Edward anywhere, but Sergeant Brosh said he was heading westbound.” Armstrong rattled off. Mustang was officially fuming. He was going to strangle that little brat the minute he saw him.

“Sir.” Hawkeye said from behind him. He whipped around outside of Edwards hospital room to face his team, who were looking at him expectantly.

“Havoc, you are with me and Hawkeye. Breda, you, Feury and Falman stay here and continue the search. If you find anything, radio us.” Mustang ordered. The team gave a unified salute before everything began moving. Mustang, Havoc, Hawkeye and Armstrong strode into the hospital room. Brosh was sitting on the cot, his face flushed with embarrassment. Hawkeye began talking to Brosh, asking him various questions about the incident while Mustang and Armstrong moved to the window.

“Damn kid.” Mustang mumbled. The area outside of the window was a mess. Crumpled stone lay on the ground from where Armstrong freed the poor sergeant. The wall was a mess of alchemically fused stone, brick, and concrete. A few of the doctors and even some of the patients had gathered around the area to see the mess. Some were even hanging out of their windows to get a better look.

“I do hope you will be covering these damages…” A voice asked from behind. Mustang turned around to see the disgruntled face of the doctor. Mustang sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose once again.

“Yes, of course. I apologize for this.” Mustang sighed.

“Nothing we aren’t used to. You see quite a lot of oddities working at a military hospital,” the man chuckled, which was the first time Mustang had seen the man express any sort of emotion. “We will get another room setup, one without a window. We may consider using restraints as well to keep him from running off again. I’d hate to use them on someone so young but… He really can cause a lot of damage for a little guy, huh?” The doctor said, looking at the destruction outside the window.

“Right. Thank you for being so understanding.” Mustang replied, the doctor waved and left the room. Mustang turned to Riza, Havoc and Armstrong, who had now gathered around the window. Brosh was still sitting on the bed, hiding his shame.

“Sergeant Brosh, you are relieved of duty for the evening. Please take a few days to rest.” Mustang ordered, Brosh shot up and saluted him.

“Y-yes sir! Thank you sir!” He scurried out of the room, tail tucked between his legs. Brosh knew that Mustang just wanted him out of his hair.

“Alright, we’ll split up from here. Havoc, you and Armstrong go by car and search the streets, Hawkeye and I will go on foot and search the alleyways. Check all spots that pertain to the case, as that's probably where he’s heading. That includes the spot where Alphonse was taken. If you find him, radio immediately. He’s hurt and the sedative is probably still running its course through his system. He couldn’t have gotten far like that. Still, don’t underestimate him, he's stubborn as an ox and won’t go down without a fight. Subdue him any way you can and bring him back here. Understood?”

The three soldiers saluted. Hawkeye and Mustang moved their separate ways, waving off Armstrong and Havoc.

“That kid is going to get desk duty for a whole year after this stunt,” Mustang snarled.

“Don’t be too hard on him, sir. You know how serious he gets about his brother,” Hawkeye mentioned.

Mustang knew this. Hell, he knows he’s pulled stunts almost identical to this in the past. However, somehow it made him angrier. Edward was a kid, barely fifteen and had more emotional scars than a hardened war veteran. The fact that he thought he had to handle this entire ordeal on his own rather than rely on the trusted adults around him had honestly hurt the Colonel's pride. Edward had a hard outer shell that was incredibly difficult to penetrate. Mustang thought he had gained the kids' trust over the years. Sure, Edward acted like he hated him. He would bust down his door and call him a bastard, but he still trusted him, right?
He didn’t have time to think of such trivial matters. Why was he even thinking this right now? He was a war hero, a soldier, a leader! How could he let one kid affect him emotionally like this? He needed to focus on the task at hand.

“God, I'm soft.” Mustang almost laughed at the thought.

“Sir.” Hawkeye said, her voice edging on worry. She only was able to let down her mask now that they had gotten far enough away from the hospital to not be seen or heard.

“Sorry. I’m fine,” Mustang replied, forcing a small smirk on his face. “Let's get moving”

 

…
Ed had officially decided he hated guns.

He hated them in the past, but being actually shot with one really ignited a whole new different kind of feeling. His shoulder was burning, aching fiercely down into his bone. He could feel the throbbing of his stitches as they pulled. The pain shot down his arm causing a tingling pain to radiate off. Nothing like automail attachment, but still annoying.

He also officially decided that running with a concussion was a horrible idea. Not that he had much of a choice. Alphonse needed him, no way a little bonk on the head was going to stop him.

Although the way his stomach churned with every stride of his run, and the uncomfortable feeling of his head pounding turned out to be quite troublesome. He would get flecks of black sprinkling his vision every once in a while, followed by a wave of dizziness. He was thankful for the creation of adrenaline. The human body was amazing, even though he was in no condition to be running through the streets of Central (barefoot mind you), he was able to fully ignore the feelings and keep pushing just from a sheer will to do so.

He decided to stick to the shadows, moving as swiftly as possible, (although a little sluggish, damn sedative). He managed to weave through small spaces in between buildings and keep relatively out of sight from anyone driving along the road, not that many people were out at this time of night. He soon found his way to the street where Al and him were attacked. A large puddle of blood was dried on the sidewalk, his blood. The signs of a fight were evident. He knelt down and quickly surveyed the area, looking for any trace of his little brother. He walked forward a bit before noticing a few tire marks etched into the pavement. Whoever was driving wanted to move as quickly as possible, leaving an obvious trail in its wake.

“Don’t worry Al. I’m comin,” Ed vowed. He began to follow the tracks as they rounded the corner onto the next street. The sound of tires hitting pavement forced him to take cover in a small alleyway. He waited silently while the car moved by. It moved slow. Way too slow. He could barely see the vehicle but recognized it as the Lieutenant's car.

“Damn it.” Ed cursed under his breath, he knew they’d come looking for him quickly, but this quickly? He didn’t have much time before they’d be on his heels. He stuck to the shadows again, checking the road every once in a while to get a general direction of where he was supposed to go. The longer he ran, the more his adrenaline wore off. His vision was growing blurrier by the second, his shoulder had now erupted in pain as the painkillers were wearing off. His head screamed in agony, but he kept moving. He had to keep moving. He bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the pain.

“Hey there kid, whur do ya tink yur goin this time of night?” Ed looked behind him to see a large man. He reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Ed couldn’t make out his features from just looking at him, but he was big. Didn’t seem to have much muscle mass, however. He was probably about six feet tall and he wobbled on his feet.

“Go away. M’busy”, Ed slurred.

“I just nee’ some change for a taxshiii. You got any?” The man was obviously drunk off his rocker. Ed scowled. No way was he really dealing with this right now. He instinctively dug in his pocket, only to realize he was wearing hospital clothes.

“Don’ have any. Leave me alone,” Ed snarled. He turned back around and began to move.

“Hey, thasss no way to talk to some *hiccup* one!” The man yelled, growing in agitation.

“I don’t have time for this! Just go away before I beat the snot outta you!” Ed screeched. The raise in his voice sent another wave of nausea. He stumbled and clutched his head with his automail hand. His shoulder banged against a brick wall of the alley, which sent white hot pain down his arm once again. He bit back a cry. His vision had darkened and was slowly ebbing back to reality.

“Thas a mighty fine piece a’ steel ya got thur. Could sell fur a lot,” The man was approaching him now. Ed forced himself to focus, keeping track of the man in front of him. The only problem was, he didn’t know which one was the real one. His vision was so blurred the man had multiplied into three identical clones.

“Get away from me!” Ed said, with less conviction than he wanted to. The man continued to approach, stumbling and swaying as he did. Ed pushed off of the wall and rushed forward, swinging his automail fist right towards the man's jaw.

Ah crap.

The swing missed by a mile, moving through one of the blurred figures. Ed moved backwards, trying to keep balanced on his toes. In any normal circumstance he’d be able to flatten this drunken brute like a pancake. A punch connected with the side of his face. It sent Ed reeling, he fell to the ground, his cheek blossoming with pain.

“Ha! Yew think that jus’ cuz ur a kid I won’t beat ya senseless? You needa be taught some manners!” The man hovered over him. He swiftly sent a kick right into Ed's ribs. Ed heaved in pain. Before he could regain his breath, another kick rattled his ribs. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to think. The man practically collapsed on top of Ed, straddling over him. The man readied his fist to plunge into Ed’s face once again. However, Ed was able to grasp a little bit of awareness to slam his hands together. He could feel the fresh stitches ripping and warm leaking out of his shoulder from the movement, but he didn’t care. He focused the energy around him and used the stone from the ground to slam a pillar into the man. He launched backwards, landing in a groaning heap. Ed took a few shuddering breaths. He didn’t have time for this. Slowly. He stood, wrapping his automail hand protectively around his aching ribs.

“Damn. Firs’ those assholes from earlier almost hit me wif thur car and now this?” The man grimaced, still lying prone on the ground.

Ed’s interest peaked.

“What assholes?” He inquired,

“Why do ya care? It waz some van or somethin. They were in a mighty big hurry. Almos’ kilt me on my way home from the bar!” The man complained.

“Did you see who was inside the vehicle?” Ed asked, hope glimmering in his soul.

“Yuh. Three big guys and one really big guy. They parked at the warehouse across from da bar.” Seemed to be in a hurry.

“What bar?!” Ed demanded, his heart now pounding in his throat. The pain was easily ignorable now, the adrenaline returning.

“Ah. Right. Uh, da one by the old shoe factury. I think?” The man seemed to be thinking hard, already forgetting where he had been this evening. However, that was all Ed needed to know. He scurried off, leaving the man on the ground. The old shoe factory was part of an industrial boom in Central that never came to fruition. Many businesses started, but never got off the ground, leaving the district in disarray. Crime was common in these parts, as the buildings were abandoned and still in relatively good shape. Only a few sketchy taverns and shops remained in the desolate area.

Ed had a destination.

He ran faster than he had the entire night, not giving a damn about his injuries. They could wait. His brother could not.

…
Mustang and Hawkeye had made significant distance from the hospital in a short amount of time. They moved swiftly with the poise you’d expect from a soldier. They had stopped at the location where they found Ed, noting the tire tracks on the ground. They knew Ed would probably have headed in this direction and continued to follow the trail.

“Sir. Look,” Hawkeye pointed to a small, dark alleyway. They couldn’t see too far but noticed the glint of a very odd piece of stone. The duo rushed forward and immediately knew what they were looking at.

“Alchemy. Fullmetal’s been here.” Mustang noted.

“Sir, there is someone over in the corner.” Hawkeye said, shining her small flashlight. The figure lying on the ground was much too large and old to be Edward. They scurried to the man. He was snoring lightly, the smell of booze told them enough about his current state. Mustang shook the man roughly.

“Wha?” The man looked up in fear when he noticed the two officers dressed in blue.

“Hey man! Don’ worry. I’m jussss restin. I’ll be gone soon,”

“Did you come into contact with a short, blonde, annoying kid?” Mustang asked, jumping right to the point.

“Oh yeah. That kid. Real brat.” The man said, with very clear coherency. Edward had that effect on people.

“Where did he head off to?” Hawkeye interjected.

“Dunno. Told him about some guys I saw earlier and he ran off. Didn’ even say sorry for hittin me!” The old man explained.

“Tell me exactly what you told him,” Mustang ordered. “Or I'll have you arrested for public intoxication.”

The man was quick to recount the story of the men that he saw. Mustang gave a glance to Hawkeye who nodded. He always appreciated how little words he needed when it came to her. She moved to the end of the alley and began chatting on her radio to Havoc and Armstrong.

“Thanks for your help.” Mustang said, patting the man on the back, before standing and running to join up with Hawkeye.

Please let us make it in time.

…
“I told you, there isn’t a way you can bring someone back to life!” Alphonse yelled for the upteenth time. The two men in front of him were beginning to grate on his nerves. They asked him the same question over and over again, seemingly unconvinced with his answer.

“We know you’ve done the taboo and we want to know how you did it, state alchemist!” The older man sneered.

“You are a soul bound to armor. You tell us how to do it and we will let you go. Simple as that.” The younger man reasoned.

Alphonse continued to deny any knowledge of the situation. He couldn’t tell them that it was Ed who bound his soul to the armor, it was Ed who was the alchemic genius, it was Ed who knew everything there was to know about human transmutation. He refused to put his brother in more danger than he was already in.

“Shame we had to kill that brother of yours. He woulda gotten you to talk,” the older man snarled. Alphonse felt his nonexistent heart sink.

“What?”

“Oh yes! You really think we’d let someone like him go alive? My men went back and finished him off!” The old man cheered. “Shame I didn’t think of it sooner. He could’ve been used as a good bargaining chip.”

Alphonse was at a loss for words. There was no way. Ed wasn’t dead. He wasn’t! He wouldn’t be killed so easily. Ed had survived human transmutation, he’d survived automail surgery, he became a state alchemist at twelve! He was face to face with Homunculi and Scar. He wouldn’t get killed just like that!

“You’re lying.” Alphonse said darkly.

“And what if I’m not?” The older man jeered.

Just before Alphonse screamed at the man, a loud bang made everyone turn around.

“Who said I was dead?!” A familiar voice yelled, sounding much more tired and strained than usual.

“Brother!”

Chapter 5: A Brother's Morality

Summary:

Edward has arrived to save Alphonse!

But his body is badly injured and the two assailants are raring to go.

Will Mustang and his team make it on time?

Notes:

Here we go! Could be one more chapter, could be more. Like I said, this could go one of two ways. Either really long or decently short. I am just writing and seeing where the wind takes me! Hope you enjoy!

Now, let's get back to our poor boys suffering, shall we?

Chapter 5: A Brother’s morality 

 

“Brother!” Alphonse shrieked, knowing that voice from anywhere. He couldn’t see him as he was too far away but the two kidnappers in front of him flinched and turned around. Alphonse noted how tired Ed sounded. His voice was quiet and lacked the conviction it usually had. Brother was in pain and there was no way he’d be able to fight these guys head on. Al knew he had to do something before they figured out that Edward was truly the Fullmetal Alchemist and not him. 

 

“Run away brother! Go get help!” Alphonse yelled, hoping his words would reach Ed’s thick skull. He often laughed at his brother's stubbornness, but not when his life was in danger. 

 

“You okay?” Ed asked, ignoring Al’s pleas to run. 

 

“I thought I told you to kill him!” The older man yelled, his face contorted and flushed red. His nose scrunched up like a pig. 

 

“When the boys went back, he was already gone!” The younger one defended. 

 

“Go take care of him. We can’t have a civilian ruining our plans!” 

 

The younger of the two nodded. From his belt he pulled out a small handgun. 

 

“Shit, where did he go?” The younger man asked, looking around frantically. 

 

“Find him, you idiot!” The older one barked. 

 

“Ed! Run! Please, run away!” Alphonse cried. if he could, tears would have been pouring out of his eyes. 

 

“Wait.” The younger man stopped his searching and whipped back around. “Did you say, Ed?” 

 

Alphonse felt his soul quiver. 

 

“As in… Edward Elric? He’s Edward Elric?!” 

 

A faint clap could be heard and a large rumbling shook the ground. The two men jumped out of the way, barely missing a large stone fist. 

 

“Damn! What the Hell?!” One of them shrieked. 

 

“Find him!” 

 

Alphonse felt useless. Edward was nowhere in sight, engaged in battle and Al couldn’t even move. All he could do was scream. 

 

More rumbling and jostling could be heard, yells from the men and a few from Edward bounced off the walls. There were flashes of blue alchemic light scattered around the entire building. Alphonse waited in anticipation, praying to an unknown God for his brother’s safety. 

 

A loud shot rang through the air.

 

A cry escaped lips.

 

And everything was silent. 

 

“Brother?! Brother!” Alphonse pleaded, trying to move his unmoving body. He heard shuffling until the two men came forward. They had cuts and bruises littering their skin. Behind the younger man, a small boy with long blonde hair in a simple, disheveled ponytail was being drug by his metal wrist. 

 

“No! Brother! What did you do to him?!” Alphonse cried, his voice edging on pure anger. 

 

The younger man flung Edward forward as if he weighed nothing. Al studied the crumpled heap of his older brother, looking for wounds. His shoulder was bleeding, staining the light blue hospital shirt a horrifying shade of purple. Alphonse saw more blood pooling from Edwards upper thigh. His back was facing Alphonse as he laid on his side, gasping for air. 

 

“Ed, say something! Ed!” Alphonse sobbed. A small groan escaped the small alchemist’s lips. 

 

“A-” a series of coughs cut off the brother. The two men were standing above him, looking at him with a murderous gleam in their eye. They then looked up to Alphonse. 

 

“So. This is the Fullmetal Alchemist.” The older man put his foot on Ed’s chest and pushed him to his back. Ed cried out in pain, gritting his teeth. His eyes were crushed shut as he continued to pant. 

 

“Let go of him! I’ll kill you!” Alphonse threatened, knowing it was an empty one. The younger man laughed. 

 

“Who woulda thought this runt was the Fullmetal Alchemist!?” 

 

“Not… Littl-'' Ed was cut off as the older man's boot crushed harder into his ribs. 

 

“Dad, we can’t have him dying. We need him to do the transmutation.” The younger one reminded. The old man sighed and moved his foot off of Ed’s chest. Edward sucked in as much air as he could and rolled to his side. He choked on the stale oxygen and let out a series of hard coughs. 

 

“Fine. But we can’t let him clap his hands together again. James my boy, my back is killing me. Be a dear and rip that pesky arm off for me.” The older man said, turning to a small folding chair and sitting in it. 

 

“Sure thing.” James replied, moving to Edward. Ed was completely out of it, simply focusing on breathing through the pain. Alphonse continued to yell as he watched James get closer to his beloved brother, helpless to do anything. 

 

“Y-you… K-killed all those women…” Ed shuttered, his golden eyes locked onto the pile of bodies in the corner of the room. 

 

“So what? They were whores. No one will miss them. They needed to die just like the street trash they are.” James said calmly, his tone was so even, it sent chills up Alphonse’s non-existent spine. 

 

“You’re a monster!” Alphonse shrieked. 

 

“I could say the same about you! Look at you, You don’t even have a body!” James cackled. 

 

Edward growled and struggled to push himself upwards. 

 

“D-don’t you dare… Talk about him like that…” Ed hissed. James kneeled down and smiled,

 

“What are you gonna do about it, shrimp?” 

 

Alphonse was amazed at how quickly Edward moved. In a flash, Ed’s metal foot landed square in the middle of James’ face. A loud, sickening crunch could be heard as the man fell backwards. Blood gushed from his newly broken nose and a flare of rage carved into his features. Ed was squinting, as if he could barely see. His leg dropped heavily on the ground and he heaved out a few more desperate coughs. James jumped to his feet and landed a kick straight into Ed’s torso. Ed tried to curl in on himself as a shield.

 

“B-bastard…” He coughed again. Alphonse couldn’t imagine how much pain Edward was in at the moment. His entire body was shaking, blood pooled around him, covering his back and seeping into his hair. James easily flipped Ed to his stomach and pinned him down with one foot. The boy struggled uselessly, his body obviously too weak to fight back. James then grabbed his automail arm in large, dirty hands. Ed turned his head and opened his eyes slightly to look at Alphonse. His golden orbs were filled with sheer terror. 

 

“No, stop! You can’t do that! You can’t just rip it off!” Alphonse pleaded. He knew how much Winry drilled into the two brothers about automail safety. To have it forcibly torn off could kill Edward with the pure shock alone. 

 

At that moment, Alphonse was horribly reminded of the Scar attack. Ed’s arm being destroyed in an instant. He had gone into shock after that and although Ed didn’t admit it, his port was in horrible pain after the incident. Sometimes his shoulder would twitch as the nerves tried to connect to something that wasn’t there and the area was red and inflamed from the trauma. 

 

Thankfully, he got medical help quickly after that… but now they were alone.. 

 

“Please, you could kill him doing that! Please don’t!” Alphonse begged, trying to reason with the two assailants. They needed Ed alive, right? 

 

It didn’t matter. 

 

James pulled. 

 

…

A scream ripped through the air, it was filled with pure, guttural pain. The screams mimicked that of the children in Ishval Mustang often heard in his nightmares. He shuddered at the memory, his fists clenching. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the hum of alchemy through his gloves. They were standing in front of the warehouse, ready to enter. Armstrong had secured his gauntlets while Hawkeye and Havoc loaded their guns. They looked to Mustang expectantly. 

 

He motioned for the team to move forward. Everyone sprang into action, pushing through the large doors. Mustang and Armstrong surged ahead while Havoc and Hawkeye began firing shots from behind. It was incredibly dark in the large space and the smell was nauseating. Mustang knew the smell of rotting flesh all too well, he thought maybe one day he’d be used to it. However, it still sent a sickening twist in his stomach. He focused on the light ahead of them. A bullet whizzed past his head. 

 

“They have guns! Stay sharp!” Mustang called out. 

 

“No worries Colonel!” Armstrong reassured. The team moved forward, Armstrong occasionally raising a wall to block a few bullets. As they got closer, they could hear the familiar hollow cries of Alphonse screaming. 

 

Everyone skidded to a stop when they were able to see the entire scene. 

 

Mustang felt something snap inside of him at that moment. 

 

Edward was being held up around his neck. His eyes were shut, tears spilling from them. Blood dripped from his leg and shoulder and his automail arm looked like it had been torn apart by animals. Wires and sharp bits of metal were splayed in all directions. Edward was limp in the arms of a young man. A handgun trained on his temple. 

 

“Let go of him.” Mustang said darkly. 

 

“Don’t move, or I'll shoot!” The man cried, a wild look in his eyes. 

 

“Put him down, or we will be forced to kill you,” Armstrong demanded, his voice sounding much more serious than normal. 

 

Mustang flitted his eyes to Alphonse, whose armor was visibly shaking. His arms and legs had been sawed off, leaving him motionless. The soulfire pinpricks in his eyes were stuttering, almost as if he was crying. Mustang tried to give him a reassuring look before turning his eyes back to the man holding his young subordinate. 

 

“James. That’s your name right?” Havoc stepped forward, his gun gone from his hands. 

 

“H-how do you know that?!” James yelled, his voice faltering. 

 

Good. Keep going Havoc. Mustang thought, knowing that Havoc was much more even-minded than he himself was. If looks could kill, James Reinbuckle would have exploded by now from Mustang's fiery gaze. 

 

“You lost your sister, isn’t that right? That's why you are doing all of this. To bring her back?” Havoc's voice was even and deep, carrying as much kindness as he could muster, although Mustang noticed the slight shake in his clenched fist.  “You must miss her terribly.” 

 

“Alexandra was my little sister. She was all I had left other than dad… The girls at the bar… They got into an argument… Alexandra left and next thing we know… She’s…” James’s voice cracked as he visibly relaxed a little, tears forming in his eyes. Ed groaned slightly, opening his eyes halfway, but too out of it to recognize what was going on. 

 

“Let the boy go. Please.” Havoc pleaded. 

 

“N-no… Dad he…” James looked around frantically, not spotting his father anywhere. 

 

“Looks like he fled.” Mustang noted, quirking an eyebrow up to James. James crumpled, dropping Ed into a heap on the ground. He fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Hawkeye and Havoc moved to him, restraining him and pulling him away from Edward and Alphonse. All the while, Hawkeye kept her gun trained on James’s broken form. 

 

Armstrong moved to Alphonse while Mustang hurried to Ed’s side. He gently turned him over, trying to not jostle him too much. Ed groaned in pain, his eyes scrunching together. His hands hovered over the small boy, afraid that one touch could break him apart. As gently as he could, he pulled Edward towards his chest. Another small whimper escaped the child's lips as he was moved. His head lolled into the Colonels chest and rested against him. 

 

“My brother! My brother, is he okay?!” Alphonse yelled from behind. 

 

“We need to get him to a hospital,” Mustang said. Armstrong nodded and lifted Alphonse up into his sturdy arms. 

 

“Ed! Why isn’t he moving? Brother, open your eyes!” Alphonse sobbed. 

 

“He’ll be fine, Alphonse. Don’t worry.” Mustang reassured, however, looking at the pathetic form of the teen didn’t leave room for much hope. He knew the signs of shock as well as he knew how to walk. Sweat and blood clung to the small alchemist, drenching him from head to toe. His skin was cold to the touch and his breaths came in short gasps. Mustang put two fingers on the side of his young teammate's neck. His pulse was quick. Way too quick. He needed help, and he needed it now.

 

“Here.” Hawkeye tossed the keys to Mustang, who barely caught them with one hand. 

 

“Get him out of here. We’ll call this in,” She stated. 

 

“What will we say? We can’t tell them they kidnapped Ed and Al for human transmutation!” Havoc reasoned. 

 

“Don’t worry about that.” A voice rang. Everyone stiffened as the air in the room shifted. Loud footsteps echoed throughout the room. Mustang felt his heart beat out of his chest as none other than Fuhrer King Bradley strode into the light, a smile plastered across his face. 

 

“Fuhrer King Bradley!” Armstrong straightened his posture, not able to salute with Alphonse in his large arms. Hawkeye and Havoc quickly saluted as well. Mustang simply stared at him with a nervous, dumbfounded look on his face. 

 

“I heard the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother were in danger. I thought I’d stop by and see if I could help,” Bradley said in his sickeningly sweet tone. Mustang instinctively held Edward a little bit closer to his chest. 

 

Bradley was the definition of suspicious. He wore that smug, fake smile and always seemed to know what was going on. The leader of the country was a force to be reckoned with, and someone you didn’t want to piss off. Mustangs wariness of Bradley only grew as time went on. He was always there. Somehow he had found out about Ed and Al’s location, he somehow always manages to piece it together. Bradley had also grown incredibly interested in Mustang for some reason. 

 

Especially after Hughes’ death. 

 

“At ease.” Bradley said, waving his hand. Everyone relaxed slightly, but not by much. Mustang's fiery eyes looked deep into King Bradley’s one exposed one. He must have been sending a glare from the way Bradley looked at him. It was like he was looking at a small child who had just thrown a temper tantrum. 

 

“Don’t fret. I already knew.” The Fuhrer said coolly.

 

What? 

 

Bradley knew about Ed and Al’s attempt at human transmutation? He knew the taboo was committed but still kept quiet? How had he even found out? 

 

“Well then, sir?” Mustang challenged, his gaze locked onto the man in front of him. 

 

“We must get Fullmetal back to the hospital. I already called for an ambulance.” Bradley explained. 

 

“Why?” Mustang blurted without thinking. 

 

“Hmm?” Bradley challenged 

 

“Why are you letting him go?” 

 

“Ah. That. Well, I have my reasons. Edward Elric and his brother are precious resources to our country’s military. He’s beloved by the people, and is quite the force to be reckoned with. As I’m sure you agree. I can’t let that go to waste. A taboo is only a taboo if we make it so, and quite frankly, I believe our young alchemists have suffered a punishment worse than death.”

 

Mustang wasn’t fully  convinced at Bradley’s explanation, but took it for what it was. Edward stirred uncomfortably in his arms. His breaths were ragged and wheezy. 

 

“Go on. All of you. I’ll take care of this.” Bradley explained. “No one will know. Consider it a favor for our youngest state alchemist.”

 

Everyone stared at the fuhrer with wide, dumbfounded looks. A wail of sirens in the distance caused Mustang to focus back on the task at hand. He wobbled as he stood, cradling Ed to his chest. He was mindful of the broken mess that was his automail, careful to not come into contact with any of the wires. 

 

“Fuhrer, thank you. Thank you, thank you!”  Alphonse blubbered, his soul fire eyes locked on Edward. 

 

“Go. And leave our little friend here.” Bradley eyed James with a look of daggers. An inhuman stare that reeked of blood. Everyone hesitated but slowly began to move out of the warehouse. As they reached the door they heard a scream and the sound of flesh being sliced. No one flinched, no one cared. The only people who mattered were the two traumatized, injured boys in their arms. 

 

The ambulance arrived shortly after the team left the dilapidated warehouse. Medics swarmed around Mustang, pulling Edward from his arms and laying him on a gurney. Edward cried in pain as he was moved. Mustang stiffened and moved closer to him. 

 

“Stay back, we need to work.” A woman in scrubs intervened. Mustang wanted to argue, but decided against it, taking a deep breath to keep his cool. He backed up, eyes locked on the team of medics swarming around his youngest teammate. 

 

“Sir. What’s next?” Hawkeye asked, walking up to him. Her eyes gleamed with concern for a brief moment as she looked at the hollowed eyes of her superior officer. 

 

“Armstrong, you, Havoc and Hawkeye take Alphonse to the hospital by car.” Mustang ordered, handing Riza the keys. “I’ll ride with Fullmetal.” 

 

“No! I want to be with him!” Alphonse cried. Armstrong had him propped up on his broad shoulder. In any normal circumstance, Mustang may have laughed at the spectacle, but now was not the time. 

 

“You won’t fit in there. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll watch over him until we get to the hospital.” Mustang assured. Alphonse studied him for a moment before giving the Colonel a small, nervous nod. 

 

Everyone moved. The team wasted no time loading up in the car, while the medics moved Edward into the ambulance, still working feverishly on him. Mustang moved into the small ambulance as well, sitting next to Edward, who was sweating profusely and crying softly in pain.

 

“You idiot.” The hardened Colonel said, choking on his voice. 

 

…

“Well, well, well. You just had to stick your nose into it, didn’t you?” A cool voice echoed. 

 

“Envy.” Bradley looked up to the rafters of the building. Envy leapt from his spot in the shadows, landing softly on the stone below. His spiky, black hair bounced behind him. 

 

“I had it covered, ya know.” The sin said, annoyed. 

 

“Then how come two of our most precious sacrifices were left so battered? They could have died. The older Elric could still very well perish. I told you to watch over Fullmetal and you failed.” Wrath’s voice was deep with accusation. 

 

“That's no way to talk to your big bro!” Envy teased. “Everything worked out fine in the end, didn’t it? That Fullmetal pipsqueak is strong. He’ll be fine. This actually may be good for us, it’ll keep them from poking their noses where it doesn’t belong for a while.” 

 

“I only slayed one of the assailants.” Wrath said, wiping his bloody blade. His shoes now in a puddle of freshly spilled blood. 

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll have Gluttony sniff him out for me, don’t worry about it Wrathy poo!” Envy’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “Go back to your precious little family.” 

 

“If you don’t find him and take care of him within the next few hours, you’ll have Pride and Father to answer to,” Wrath threatened.

 

“Psh. Snitch. Whatever! I take it you will clean things up here?” 

 

“Ah, right. Send Gluttony here first, will you? I’m sure he’d love to snack on these” Wrath said, looking at the pile of slain bodies. 

 

“Sure thing, Kingy!” Envy said, skipping to the entrance of the building. 

 

“I told you to stop calling me that.” 

 

…

As Alphonse rode in the back of Lieutenant Hawkeye's vehicle, he let his mind wander. The image of his brother’s bloodied body wouldn’t escape his head. Sure, he’s seen Edward hurt plenty of times, he’s seen him with freshly severed limbs and more cuts and bruises than you could count, however, he had always been able to do something about it. He’d always been able to carry Edward to safety, or fight off whoever was trying to hurt him. The guilt of not being able to do anything about the situation crawled deep into his soul, as if the gate had been ripped open with the sheer force of it. Everyone was silent. The ambulance was just ahead of them, sirens blaring. Hawkeye kept right behind it, her knuckles turning white as she drove. Armstrong was next to her, his gaze averted to the floorboards. Alphonse had never seen him look so dejected before. Havoc was unfortunate enough to sit next to Alphonse, his body crunched up against the window, however, he didn’t seem to care or even notice for that matter. He was locked in a staring contest with his reflection from the window. 

 

“Everyone?” Alphonse piped up.

 

“What is it, Alphonse?” Hawkeye said, her voice empathetic and soft. 

 

“Thank you… For saving my brother and I…” He trailed off, Havoc turned his head and smiled at the suit of armor, knocking his shoulder lightly. 

 

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” He assured. 

 

“Are you doing okay young Alphonse?” Armstrong asked, turning his head to the back seat. 

 

“Oh, y-yes. I’m fine!” Alphonse insisted. 

 

“It’s okay if you aren’t, ya know.” Havoc reminded gently. Alphonse felt something crack within him, the dam of unfeeling cries bursted at the seams. His armor rattled, it was all he could do. No matter how much he wanted to cry, he had to settle for this. It felt like a choked up sob that could never break free from his throat. 

 

“I c-couldn’t do anything…” He admitted, “I just sat there and watched… The only thing I could do was scream while they hurt him… It's my fault he got hurt. It’s my fault he’s in the back of that ambulance right now!” Alphonse’s voice edged on anger. 

 

“None of this is your fault,” Hawkeye said.

 

“You two brothers have the craziest guilt complex, ya know? What happened was no one’s fault but the bastards that took you. Hell, some of it is our fault too! We left Ed alone for five minutes and he broke out of the hospital!” Havoc said lightly, trying to brighten the mood. 

 

“He did?!” Alphonse whirled his head to the side in shock. 

 

“Yup. Right from under our noses.You shoulda seen the Colonel! Smoke was practically coming out of his ears!” Havoc laughed. 

 

“Oh brother… You idiot…” Alphonse chuckled slightly. 

 

“I apologize young Alphonse. If I was paying closer attention he wouldn’t have escaped and gotten himself hurt further,” Armstrong said. 

 

“N-no! It’s not your fault! Once brother sets his mind on something, he won’t let anything get in his way…” Alphonse replied. 

 

“See? It’s no one’s fault. Edward will be fine, you are safe and that psycho is dealt with. Happy ending!” Havoc cheered. 

 

“What about the other one?” Alphonse asked.

 

“Military police have a description of him and are searching right now. They haven’t found him yet, but it's only a matter of time. Especially with the Fuhrer on it.” Hawkeye informed. 

 

“I can’t believe Fuhrer King Bradley showed up of all people…” Havoc marveled. 

 

“He killed that man… Didn’t he?” Alphonse’s voice shook. No one answered and no one needed to. “Why did he have to kill him? He was restrained… He was… He was being manipulated by his father… I know I should be happy he’s dead but he was still a human being! He was still a life! I… I…” Alphonse’s voice fell into nothing. No one in the car responded to the armored boy. The pity they felt for the two brothers suffocated their ability to talk. 

 

Everyone in the car had killed someone at some point. Had killed guilty and innocent people. Everyone except Alphonse. Edward and Alphonse still held onto the childish desire to save everyone. Their morals were still ironclad, refusing to end another's life, refusing to use the philosopher's stone even though it could get their bodies back. But it left the brothers susceptible to the horrors of reality. Even though the boys had seen something much worse than death, they were still children. They were still innocent. Everyone in the team had subconsciously tried to protect the two from those horrors. When Hughes died, when Nina died and on countless other occasions, they tried to protect the boys from the pain of it all. 

 

But they had failed to protect them this time.

 

And that destroyed them from the inside out.

Chapter 6: A Brother's Anxiety

Summary:

While Edward lays recovering, a new threat looms...

Notes:

Well, i've decided. Gonna make this series longer! I was thinking about wrapping it up here at this chapter but I still have some ideas. Our boys are not done suffering yet!

Also, I want more parental Roy and Riza. I need it in my life.

Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 6: A Brother’s Anxiety 

 

Edward became acutely aware of every breath he was taking in. The sweet oxygen would enter cleanly through his nose and fill up his chest in a methodical rhythm. 

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

He couldn’t hear anything other than the hum of his own inhales and exhales.

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

He was surprised how easy a task it was, how mundane and repetitive it was. How could something so easy be so vital? 

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

He felt like he was floating, being cradled in a cloud of nothingness and drifting along a sea of stars.

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

If he wasn’t breathing, he would have thought he was dead. Everything was too still, too vacant and fuzzy.

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

His senses came back to him muddled, like a mirror that was fogged up after a shower. He felt a semblance of pain, but it wasn’t really pain. He felt a cocoon of warmth, but it wasn’t really that warm. His thoughts floated past him and dispersed into a puff of smoke.

 

He knew he should probably try and open his eyes, try to grasp onto reality once again, but he didn’t want to. For once he felt like the lake of his existence was still, and opening his eyes would create a tsunami of thoughts. 

 

He didn’t have the energy to do it. 

 

So he kept breathing, letting himself drift in and out. States of awareness and unawareness blending together like colors in a portrait. 

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

Something in the back of his mind tried to claw forward, but it was moving at an egregiously slow pace, he could ignore it for now. 

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

He didn’t know how much time had passed like this. It felt like a mere few seconds. 

 

“Is he still out?” 

 

Too loud. Way, way too loud. 

 

Everything moved a bit faster, the thoughts crawling up a little quicker. 

 

“Not yet.” 

 

Stop, please stop. 

 

I don’t want to wake up yet. 

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

Why don’t I want to wake up yet?

 

In and out 

 

In and out

 

The pain began to settle, attacking his entire being. It started as a dull ache that crawled down his arm and his leg. It swirled there until it etched its way to his chest, then gripped onto his brain, squeezing it tightly. 

 

It then began to sting

 

In and out

In and out

 

Then it burned, especially in his right shoulder. It tingled and shot electricity throughout his entire body.

 

In and out 

 

In and out

 

No, I don’t want to wake up yet. Please, I don’t want to…

 

In and out

In and out

In and out

 

Something bad will happen if I wake up, why don’t I want to wake up? What is so bad?

 

In and out

In and out 

In and out in and out in and out in and out in and out 

 

“Fullmetal, calm down. You’re safe.”

 

Shut up, shut up, shut up. Too much, too loud… 

 

Inandoutinandoutinandoutinandoutinandout

 

“Brother…” 

 

That voice…

 

It sounds so warm. 

 

Edward could feel himself fluttering to the ground, his feet planting gently in the grass. The voice was like sunshine hitting against his face. 

 

In and out

 

In and out

 

He registered a hand on his head, the fingers soft and calloused. 

 

“There you go, Edward. Nice and slow.” The voice was even and soothing to his soul. Light and airy, it reminded him of someone. Who did it remind him of?

 

“M-mom…” Edward groaned out, sinking into the hand’s warmth. 

…

Riza Hawkeye was taken aback. She instinctively wanted to move her hand away, but kept it gently stroking through the golden boy’s tangled locks. It had been five hours since they had returned to the hospital and everything finally seemed to calm down a little. 

 

When they arrived earlier, things moved chaotically. Edward was rushed to surgery once again. The Colonel tried to follow him into the room but was stopped. Falman, Feury and Breda had all rushed down to meet them, demanding to know what happened, all talking at once. Armstrong had set Alphonse down somewhere and Havoc was keeping him company. Nurses swarmed them, insisting they check them over for any injuries and a group from investigations came down and was badgering herself and the rest of the team for an explanation of tonight's events. 

 

“If you had taken us seriously from the start, this might not have happened.” Mustang had said with venom in his voice. “Get the hell out of here.” 

 

The investigations team was appalled at the lack of respect, but ultimately backed off after a call from King Bradley’s associates to them. 

 

They had sat in the waiting room chairs for what seemed like days, but it was only a mere two hours. 

 

Edward was then wheeled to his new room (that did not have a window). Armstrong brought Alphonse to the room, propping him up in the corner.

 

“Go home, get some rest.” Mustang ordered the rest of the team. Begrudgingly they agreed, the dark bags hanging under their eyes not allowing them much room to argue. 

 

“You too, Lieutenant.” Mustang eyed her. 

 

“Sir, I cannot fulfill that request.” She replied, Mustang frowned at her. She could see the lines of age etched into his skin as he did so. His hair was flayed in all directions from incessantly running his hand through it. His eyes were drooped and dark. The five o’clock shadow was morphing into a six o’clock rather quickly. 

 

“Disobeying a direct order?” He challenged tiredly. 

 

“Yes sir. If I am to rest, then you will as well.” She insisted, giving him a knowing look with her auburn eyes. One that was softened and spoke hundreds of words without uttering a single sound. 

 

“There are showers down the hall you may use. The cafeteria will also be open for breakfast soon.” A voice from the door said, the two soldiers turned to the familiar face of the doctor. “Mister Elric won’t be up for some time. Please, go and wash up.” He insisted. 

 

They couldn’t say no to that offer, not when they felt the way they did. 

 

She had showered quickly, letting the water wash away the dirt, grime, and emotions from the day. She watched as it all plunged down the drain, never to be seen again. 

 

And now they were here, hours later with a fresh set of clothes (she had to thank Feury later for that), and caffeine coursing through their veins. 

 

The Colonel was standing across the room, not wanting to get too close. As if he would break the boy just by being near him. Alphonse still sat propped up in the corner. Someone had dropped off the severed pieces of his armor sometime between the time they arrived and now. She assumed it was one of Bradleys men. The pieces now sat in a pile next to him. He unfortunately couldn't reattach them without Edward. She glanced at the now empty automail port. The skin around it was puffy and red. Every so often Edward’s shoulder would jerk slightly.

 

“Probably the nerves trying to reconnect.” Alphonse  said with a sad voice. 

 

Edward calmed down once again, his muscles untensing and his breathing returning to normal. 

 

Riza never thought she would be called ‘mom’ by anyone. She never wanted children, she didn’t deserve them. Not after what she did in Ishval. 

It felt strangely comforting. Even though he was completely out of it and most definitely did not mean to call Riza that, it still ignited a small warmth in her chest. 

 

Mustang crossed over, sitting in the chair next to her. Everything resumed to stillness. 

 

She forcibly shoved away the nagging feeling of guilt. She knew she didn’t deserve to feel this sense of calm, but would it be so wrong?

 

Just for a moment, maybe it was okay. 

 

…

Gunshot wound to the shoulder. Gunshot wound to the thigh. Lightly scraped femoral artery, causing moderate bleeding. Given two blood transfusions and a liquid IV. 

 

Moderate concussion. No brain damage or skull fracture. Four broken ribs. No lung punctures present. Mildly cracked sternum. 

 

Major Automail Removal Trauma of the right arm (ART). Seen by in clinic automail specialist. Remaining fragments of automail removed and port cleaned. Automail arm is irreparable. Mechanic will be contacted once he is stable.

 

Conclusion: The Fullmetal Alchemist will be on indefinite medical leave until he is cleared to return to service. I have personally reviewed all aspects of this case and have thoroughly detailed every account to the best of my ability 

 

Signed: Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist. 

 

Mustang sighed as he signed the report. Listing all of the injuries of his subordinate out on paper filled him with melancholy. He glanced over to the boy, still lying prone on the bed. Hawkeye was gently coursing her fingers through his hair, slowly working out the knots, ensuring to be careful as to not hurt him. The lieutenant held a small smile on her face as she continued. It was a rare smile, one that was filled with peace. A smile, for the most part, she had lost since the war. Edward had stirred a bit every so often, but showed no signs of waking up anytime soon. 

 

 Alphonse had hardly spoken whilst sitting in the corner of the hospital room. His soulfire eyes were staring off at nothing in particular, obviously deep in thought. Hawkeye and Mustang tried to make casual conversation with the armored brother. He’d answer with a distant “hmm” or “ah”, which told them that he did not want to be disturbed. So, the room was quiet. Lights dimmed to not strain Fullmetal’s eyes when he awoke, which made it quite hard for Mustang to see the report he was writing up, but it didn’t matter. Most of the recounts of what happened were bullshitted anyways. Instead of the two men kidnapping Alphonse for human transmutation, they kidnapped him for ransom. Instead of Thomas and James Reinbuckle being the true culprits of the murders, they documented that it was in fact the convicted security guards and the Reinbuckles were desperate for money to save their business. The entire bluffed story was signed off by Bradley himself and everyone involved was briefed on what to say. No one would be suspicious. He sighed and shifted his eyes over to Alphonse.

 

Roy couldn’t imagine what was going through the kids head, he had just witnessed something extremely traumatic. Not only did he see his brother getting practically tortured, and a pile of murdered bodies; he also had to come to terms with death. 

 

Death was something the boys saw often. They saw it with their mother, with Nina, with Hughes. They even got close to dying themselves on multiple occasions. They weren’t strangers to death, rather, they were probably death's least favorite people. 

 

However, this particular death was different. 

 

Not only was Alphonse present for the execution of their kidnapper, but he also struggled with his own human morality. James was a bad man who did bad things, but he did bad things because of his circumstances. He murdered out of an insane mind that was probably once mildly put together. He saw a man break down in sobs from anguish, seemingly repentant, only to be killed moments later. 

 

Furthermore, the man was killed on behalf of the two boys. 

 

However, the man had hurt Edward, his beloved brother. The only family he has left. Part of him was probably relieved the man was dead. The two sides of himself were most likely battling within his mind, crushing one another and springing back up over and over again. Roy remembered when he thought like that. Before he was forced to take thousands of innocent lives. Before he became numb to the stench of death. 

 

He wanted to take the pain away from the boys. To heal their physical and mental scars from this incident. They couldn’t catch a break, always one thing after another. Mustang had to be exposed to such horrors, but that didn’t mean they had to. 

 

As their superior officer, he failed them. 

 

He failed to protect them and his mistake cost the boys dearly. He felt responsible for the addition of new scars on his youngest teammates. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, the report falling from his lap onto the floor. He didn’t bother to move to pick it up. 

 

“Sir?” Hawkeye prodded, eyeing the scattered pile of papers on the floor. 

 

“Sorry.” He stood and began collecting the papers one by one, putting them into a less than neat stack. 

 

“You can go get some rest if you wish, Colonel. I will watch over Edward while you are gone.” Hawkeye’s voice was steady, but laced with exhaustion. Mustang’s sounded no better. 

 

“No, no. I’m fine, really. Just got lost in thought.” He explained, setting the stack of papers on the bedside table and resuming his position in the uncomfortable hospital chair. 

 

A small shuffling sound towards the door caused the two soldiers to turn that way, a small piece of paper had slid under the crack. Roy looked to his lieutenant with caution on his face as he stood. He crossed over silently, eyes locked on the parchment in front of him. Alphonse had even shaken from his stupor to gaze at the odd visitor. 

 

Mustang slowly picked up the paper and flipped it over. His eyes quickly scanned it, heart plummeting as he did. His stomach danced around as panic sat heavy in his throat. He clenched the paper tightly, crumpling it. He immediately sprang into action, swinging open the door with immense force and striding out into the hallway. He could hear Hawkeye and Alphonse calling to him in confusion. He darted his eyes around, looking down both sides of the bustling hallway. Nothing was out of place. The nurses and doctors were carrying on, moving from room to room. 

 

“Sir, what is it?” Hawkeye was beside him, her pistol held tightly in her hands. He silently handed the note to her. She holstered her weapon and scanned the contents. 

 

“Colonel… This…” Her pupils were wide as she looked into her superiors eyes. 

 

“We aren’t finished here yet.” He said quietly. “Call the team back, and send for the military police, I want this place surrounded.” He ordered, Hawkeye saluted and hurried off, pushing the note back into his hand as she did. He read the letter over and over again, unsure of what to do now. 

 

This isn’t over Fullmetal Alchemist.

You killed my son.

You thwarted my plans.

You. Will. Suffer. 

 

“Colonel Mustang, sir?” Roy looked up to see Edwards doctor standing in front of him. His head was tilted in confusion. “What seems to be the issue?” 

 

“Doctor. I need you to put the hospital on total lockdown. No one goes in or out.” Mustang replied with a desperate tone. The doctor remained silent for a moment.

 

“Understood. I’ll make the call.” He finally said, eyes filled with understanding. He didn’t waste any time, turning on his heel he marched away briskly. Mustang turned back into the room, shutting the door tightly behind him. The letter was still tight in his fist. 

 

“Colonel?” Alphonse piped up. Mustang didn’t know what to say to the boy. Does he show him? The last thing he wants is for Alphonse to panic. Especially with him so fragile both physically and mentally right now. 

 

“Everything is okay. Just a precaution. Don’t you worry about it, I got it handled.” He explained. Alphonse’s red eyes stared at Roy for a long while. 

 

“I see.” He replied flatly.

 

A small groan halted any further conversation. Mustang hurried over, taking his place in Hawkeye’s chair. He hovered his hands over the golden boy, unsure of what to do. He was totally out of his element right now and he wished he would have gone to call the team instead of Riza.  She would know what to do here. Edward shifted slightly, sucking in a pained breath as he did so. 

 

“Brother? Are you waking up?” Alphonse asked in a gentle and quiet voice. Mustang knew it must be torture for Alphonse, not able to move and be beside Edward while he was in pain. 

 

“A-” Edward’s voice mumbled incoherently.

 

“Fullmetal, are you alright? Are you in pain?” Mustang asked, trying to sound as supportive as possible. 

 

“Don’ hur’ Al…” Ed slurred. “Nuh… Don’ take him…” 

 

“Brother, I’m right here. I’m okay.” Alphonse said, trying to comfort the older Elric. 

 

“No… please… Don’...” Ed’s breathing hitched as he slightly opened his eyes, golden orbs glazed with exhaustion and confusion. 

 

“Fullmetal, look at me.” Mustang attempted, but Ed was in another world. He continued to mumble, panic obviously growing. His breaths were coming in gasps as he moved his flesh arm. He winced as he jostled it again, only adding to the relentless panting. 

 

“Brother! I’m okay! I’m safe!” Alphonse said, panic lacing within his own voice. However, it seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Edward was growing more uncomfortable by the second, moving despite the pain that was written all over his face. Mustang steeled himself, he had to do something. 

 

What would Hughes do?

 

Hesitantly, he put a hand on Edwards forehead. Roy noticed the beginnings of a fever wrapping him in warmth. Edward’s face was flushed, cheeks pink as he continued to cry out for Alphonse. Once Roy made contact with the boy’s skin he seemed to bring himself out of whatever he was hallucinating. His tired eyes darted over to Roy. 

 

“Colonel…” Ed whispered. 

 

“I’m here Fullmetal. You’re safe. Alphonse is here, too.” He assured, hoping that he was doing the right thing. He was never good with kids, especially sick and injured kids. Hughes always knew what to do in situations like this. Edward furrowed his brows, trying to comprehend the words coming out of the Colonel's mouth.

 

“Where?” He grounded out, his voice hoarse and strained. 

 

“Hospital.” Mustang replied. Ed hummed slightly and slowly turned his head. 

 

“Al…” Ed’s eyes locked onto the broken armor that was his brother.

 

“Brother. How are you feeling?” Alphonse asked, continuing to keep his voice low.

 

“You okay?” Ed said. Mustang smiled slightly, one always caring about the other. 

 

“I’ll go get the doctor,” he said, standing. Edward closed his eyes. Sweat had begun pouring down the side of his face and his muscles were tense from the pain. Mustang hurried out of the room to fetch the doctor. 

…

Edward felt terrible. 

 

Everything hurt. He couldn’t identify one part of his body that wasn’t aching, burning, or stinging. Even just moving his head to the side had sent waves of nausea into his stomach, but it was worth it to look at his brother. Safe and sound. Mustang was here too, right? Where did he go? Confusion still gripped tightly onto the young alchemist, which filled him with annoyance. He could be beaten half to death and still be totally fine, but if his brain wasn’t working like he wanted it to, it was game over. He groaned in frustration, trying to will his mind to work with him. 

 

“You okay brother?” Alphonse. Right. Alphonse was here, everything was fine if Al was here. 

 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Ed mumbled, his throat grating as he spoke. He saw a small glass of water on the table beside him and attempted to reach his automail arm over to at least attempt a few drinks, but nothing happened. He couldn’t hear the heavy steel. He turned his head, his vision blurring. Once it cleared, he felt his heart stop. His arm was gone.

 

That moment came rushing back to him. 

 

“No, please stop! Please!” 

 

His shoulder was being ripped apart. He didn’t know if the screams were coming from him or Alphonse. White hot pain rushed through his body and fried his brain. He heard horrible cracks of steel and wires, his felt jolts of electricity jerk his body. 

 

It hurt so much.

 

Please, stop. I’m begging you… 

 

A crashing sound came from beside him. He couldn’t see anymore, he couldn’t hear over the blood rushing through his head. 

 

“Brother! No!” Alphonse. He had to help Alphonse. His body wouldn’t move. The cold warehouse floor was all he could feel over the pain that attacked him from all sides. 

 

He could feel a rough hand grab his hair.

 

He fell into darkness, hot tears staining his cheeks. 

 

Edward wanted to vomit, the reminder of the pain sent more jolts through his phantom limb. His shoulder jerked, causing his body to jerk with it. His left shoulder pulled, the stitches protesting the movement. Ed felt involuntary tears prick his eyes. 

 

“M-my arm…” Ed blubbered. 

 

“Does it hurt? The doctor is on his way.” Alphonse sounded worried. 

 

I should comfort him

 

Ed forced his head back to the other side and plastered a tired grin on his face. 

 

“Winry gon’ kill me.” He tried to laugh, but it only came out as a small puff of air. 

 

“I’m sorry…” Alphonse trailed off,

 

“What for?”

 

“You got hurt because of me.” 

 

“Oh shut up. I did this to myself, you are not to blame here.” Edward snorted. 

 

“I’m so glad you’re alright… I was so scared… I…” Al’s voice shook. 

 

“I’m glad you’re alright too, little bro.” Edward said quietly. He wanted to reach out and knock on his armor, but could only manage a small smile. “What happened? Last thing I remember was my arm being…” Edward stopped. 

 

“The team got you away from that man. The older man ran away. Just before they were going to call it in, Fuhrer King Bradely showed up.” Alphonse began, not needing his brother to finish. 

 

“Huh?!” If Edward could sit up, he would have. The Fuhrer showed up?! How was he not thrown into a prison cell at this point?

 

“Don’t worry. Our secrets safe. Apparently he already knew.”  Alphonse reassured. 

 

“How…?” Edward started,

 

“Not sure. He called an ambulance for you and the Colonel carried you out.” 

 

“He did what?” Edward felt his cheeks grow hot. No way did that bastard cradle him like an infant. “God, I'm never going to live this down…” Edward groaned. 

 

“What happened to the kidnappers?” He finally asked. Everything went eerily quiet. 

 

“King Bradely killed the younger man…” Alphonse explained. Edward could sense a twinge of sadness in his voice. “The older man is still on the loose. Apparently the henchmen that helped kidnap me are also dead.” 

 

Before Edward could respond, the door opened. Mustang followed by the doctor strode into the room. Mustang hung back, giving the doctor space to work. 

 

The doctor moved quickly, checking on his stitches in both his shoulder and thigh and asking him various questions as he did so. He was given more painkillers through his IV despite his request not to. He didn’t want to feel sluggish anymore, but it was seemingly not up for debate. As the warm, numbing sensation spread across his body, the doctor had left and Mustang resumed his position in the chair beside his bed. Ed fought off the grips of unconsciousness as long as possible, his eyes drooping but staying open with sheer force. 

 

“Stop being stubborn and go to sleep,” the colonel said, his voice was distant and floaty. Edward tried to rebel, but his body gave into the exhaustion and he was fast asleep. 

 

…

As more time passed, more anxiety crept into the Colonel's soul. It had been about an hour now since Hawkeye’s departure and he was still without an update on the situation. The doctor notified him that the hospital was on lockdown, but other than that he was a sitting duck, no information, no leads. 

 

“Colonel?” Mustang turned to the small voice of the fourteen year old behind him. 

 

“What's up?” 

 

“What was written on that note?” Mustang sighed, knowing that the younger Elric would press him on the matter sooner or later. There wasn’t a way really for him to hide it, he would find out eventually. He fished in his pocket for the note and held it up close enough for Alphonse to read. 

“Oh no…” Alphonse’s voice was small. 

 

“We’re doing everything we can right now.” Mustang tried to reassure. 

 

“R-right.” Alphonse stuttered.

 

“We won’t let anything happen to you or Fullmetal, okay?” Mustang's voice was filled with conviction. He hoped it at least alleviated some of the worry, but he couldn’t read the expressionless armor. 

 

“Thanks Colonel…” Alphonse croaked, Mustang knew that if he had a body, he’d be crying. “You and the rest of the team have done so much for us… We are really thankful to you all. I know brother is as well, even if he won’t say it.”

 

Mustang smiled and stood, crossing over to the boy and kneeling in front of him. He placed a hand on Al’s shoulder, knowing he couldn’t feel it. 

 

“We’re a team. We stick together.” He could almost feel the smile from Alphonse in that moment.  

 

At that moment, a  loud explosion shook the entire room. Mustang wobbled and fell on his bottom. Edward had woken slightly from the noise, but was being held too tightly by the painkillers to really come into awareness. 

 

“What was that?!” Alphonse shrieked. Mustang ran to the door, retching it open. The hospital staff was in a flurry of chaos. Patients, nurses and doctors alike were huddled around the windows of the building. Mustang was quick to push out of their way and join them, peering down from their place on the second story. He felt something in his gut crash down. A car parked on the side of the road had burst into flames and exploded. Chunks of metal were splayed across the lawn of the hospital and lay in fiery heaps on the street. There was a loud bang of a window breaking just a floor below, screaming could be heard distantly. Mustang wasted no time putting on his gloves and hurrying down the small stairwell to the bottom floor. People were running in all directions, trying to piece together what had happened. Mustang spotted the shards of glass on the floor and hurried over, breaking the flow of traffic away from the scene. 

 

Along with the shards, there was a large brick with a note attached to it. 

 

Mustang began to panic. He ripped the message free and unraveled the paper. 

 

I’m coming for you, Fullmetal Alchemist. 

 

“Colonel!” Mustang whipped around to see his team in a frantic huddle. Hawkeye was at the lead. 

 

“Search the perimeter! He couldn’t have gotten far!” He ordered, the team sprang into action hurrying out the door. Hawkeye ran up to the Colonel and glanced at the new note. 

“Sir, what do we do about Edward and Alphonse? They aren’t safe here.” She mentioned. Mustang locked his eyes on the fireball that was once a car across the way. Thomas Reinbuckle knew the two boys were here and was not going to stop until he got them. It was an empty car this time, but what if he got more desperate? That explosion could have easily been set off inside the hospital itself. It was putting more than just the brothers at risk. 

 

Mustang had to think fast. 

 

An idea struck him.

 

“How discreetly can we transport them?” Mustang asked.

 

“I may have a few ideas.” Mustang and Hawkeye whipped around to see the doctor smiling at them. “We have a shipment of medical supplies that come in every month. Just so happens the next truck is scheduled for later today. If we can get the two boys onto that truck, you can safely escort them away from the hospital without anyone noticing.” 

 

“Hmm…” Mustang was in deep thought. He looked around at the bustling hallway and leaned in closer to the doctor. “Let's discuss this in private,” He said.

 

“Sure. Follow me.” The doctor said, beginning to lead the two soldiers down the hall. 

 

“Hawkeye, go be with Alphonse and Fullmetal. Don’t let anyone in who we don’t know.” Mustang ordered. Hawkeye saluted and turned, jogging back towards the staircase. 

 

…

Alphonse Elric seemed to be in a constant state of anxiety since he and Edward were attacked. It seemed that every time he remotely calmed down, something would happen to ramp him up again. It was mentally exhausting. Not being able to move didn’t help the situation. He thought it was over, he thought Ed was safe, that he could recover and then they could get back on track getting their bodies back. 

 

But things were never that easy, were they? 

 

He let out a long sigh and tilted his head back against the wall with a ‘thunk’. Al hated feeling this way. Feeling useless and broken. He wanted to spring up and take matters into his own hands. He wanted to hold Ed’s hand and keep him calm. He wanted to burst out of the hospital and beat up the old bastard who did this and ensure that he spends the rest of his life in prison. But alas, he was here. Stuck in the corner with no way of getting repaired anytime soon. 

 

The whole situation made him fume with a desperate rage. 

 

God I'm sounding like Ed… He thought to himself, chuckling slightly 

 

The door to the room opened once again. Alphonse was expecting the Colonel or the doctor, but the familiar face of Lieutenant Hawkeye was also a welcomed sight. 

 

“Lieutenant!” Alphonse greeted as cheerfully as he could. “How are things?” He asked, tone more serious. 

 

“We’ve secured the perimeter, but still no sign of Thomas.” Hawkeye explained.

 

“Where’s the Colonel?” Alphonse inquired. 

 

“Speaking with the doctor. We might have a way to discreetly get you two out of here without Thomas following us. At least not easily.” 

 

Alphonse tilted his head. “We’re going to leave? What about brother? He’s in no condition to be moved.” 

 

“I’m sure the Colonel and the doctor will work out the details, but as long as Thomas knows you two are here, it’s not safe,” she said. Alphonse nodded in understanding and looked to his still sleeping brother. 

 

“You doing okay?” Hawkeye’s voice softened. 

 

“Yeah. Fine.” Alphonse forced out. 

 

Hawkeye didn’t push and Alphonse was grateful for that. She sat down, her pistol lying in her lap. Time passed by slowly, inching forward second by second with only the sounds beyond the door being heard. 

 

It wasn’t until Mustang slid open the door that time seemed to resume. The room suddenly became very crowded. Mustang was followed into the room by the doctor, Falman, Havoc, Feury, Breda, and Armstrong. Everyone stood in various places scattered around the small hospital room. Mustang cleared his throat.

 

“Alright. Listen up.” His voice was slightly above a whisper so as to not disturb Edward. “We’re going to move Edward and Alphonse out of the hospital. There is a truck coming in four hours with medical supplies. That truck is our key out of here.” 

 

“A truck?” Havoc tilted his head. 

 

“Yes. The truck not only delivers supplies, but discards unneeded supplies as well.” Mustang began,

 

“Sometimes the supplies that we export out of here are quite large. Like a piece of equipment that isn’t working anymore. It's quite common.” The doctor added. 

 

“So you’re gonna put them in something?” Breda asked. 

 

“Preciscely.” Mustang glanced at Alphonse. 

 

“My brother is still hurt, you can’t move him around right now!” Alphonse insisted, looking at the pale form of his older sibling lying unaware on the bed. 

 

“We don’t have much of a choice. Alphonse you will be put in one crate while Fullmetal and I will be in another. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get injured further during the transport,” Mustang explained.

 

“He should be okay to be moved if it is brief and he isn’t jostled too much.” The doctor jumped in. “Might make recovery a bit longer, but nothing that is deeply concerning.”

 

“So, you get them in the truck, then what?” Havoc questioned. 

 

“We need to be at a place that is discreet, but also safe. This rules out the hotel and Central command. So, we will be taking them to my house,” Mustang declared.

 

“Your house?” Alphonse quipped, unsure of the idea. 

 

“My home will be plenty safe for you two to lie low in. I have a spare bedroom that Edward can use for recovery as well. We can easily guard the two of you from my home without arousing suspicions. If I were to go to an undisclosed location everyday randomly, Reinbuckle would probably pickup on it. However, it isn’t out of the ordinary for me to be in my own home, is it?” 

 

“With all the stunts this guy has been pulling, it's best to not stay in crowded areas.” Feury shuddered, thinking about the melted pile of steel that was once a car. 

 

Alphonse took a long pause, thinking through the plan. It’s true, they weren’t safe here. The unhinged man was out for blood. Alphonse knew that Thomas wouldn’t care how many people he blasted through to get to Edward and him. He thought back to the pile of dead bodies, casted away like they were trash. It made his soul shake in fear and anger. 

 

He was not about to let anyone get killed because of them. 

 

“You sure brother will be okay? What about his pain medications? What if he pops his stitches?” Alphonse rambled, staring at the doctor. 

 

“Don’t worry, Alphonse. I’ve got him covered,” Mustang winked. “My old friend owes me a few favors. He will come to the house and help monitor Fullmetal’s recovery.” 

 

Alphonse tilted his head, looking deeply at the onyx orbs. Alphonse could see the fire ignited within his irises, the conviction and confidence to get them out safely. 

 

“Alright. I’m in.” He nodded, flitting his eyes to Edward. 

 

The plan was set.

 

They were going to get out of here. 

 

And make Thomas Reinbuckle pay for his crimes.

Chapter 7: A Brother's Recovery

Summary:

They had a plan, now they needed to see it through...

Notes:

Kind of an in-between chapter with our favorites! We love our parental soldiers banding together to help our two hurting boys. It's the best.

Emetaphobia warning in this chapter! You have been warned!

Hope you enjoy! I wonder what'll happen next... Dun dun dun!

Chapter 7: A Brother’s Recovery

 

The plan was in place. 

 

Everything was ready to go and everyone was on board. 

 

It should go off without a hitch. Right? 

 

Mustang could trust his team. He could count on them to succeed. 

 

It was simple really. The doctor would deeply sedate Edward so they wouldn’t risk him waking up during transport. Him and Roy would be in one crate of ‘expired medical supplies’, Armstrong would put Alphonse in the other. 

 

The doctor would facilitate them being loaded up and would ensure that Edward’s room would not be filled by anyone else. He’d make “rounds” to the room, put things on his chart and make it seem like he was fully still there. 

 

Meanwhile, the truck would drive to the dump as it normally would. After arriving, they’d meet the rest of the team and split into three cars. 

 

Hawkeye, Mustang, Edward and Alphonse in Car A

 

Breda, Falman and Feury in Car B

 

Armstrong and Havoc in Car C

 

Car B would go East. Feury would create a secure radio channel so the team could easily communicate. 

 

Car C will go West

 

The two cars will secure the perimeter of Roy's home, ensuring no one was followed.

 

Once Car A gets the green light, they will move North and quickly unload at Mustangs house. Hawkeye will drive the car away and torch it. Knox will already be at the house, ready to assist in getting Edward comfortable. 

 

The plan then moves into phase two. 

 

The team will set up a base of operations at one of the apartments across the street (Roy was thankful he secured that location months ago just in case they ever needed it). There, Feury will monitor radio chatter of military police and the likes. 

 

Mustang will be at his house, with occasional friendly ‘visits’ from the other team members. He’d go to the hospital for two hours everyday and ‘check on’ Edward and Alphonse. 

The others will rotate. One guarding the empty hospital room.

 

One being the bird's eye view from the apartment.

 

One staying in the shed next to Mustang's house. 

 

And the last two doing recon around Central

This cycle will continue until the man is caught. 

 

It had to work. There’s no way his team would fail. 

 

They couldn’t afford to fail. 

 

Mustang knew Reinbuckle would eventually catch on that the boys were in fact, not at the hospital. But he sincerely hoped that they would catch him before it got to that point. 

 

“Vans pulling in.” The doctor said, peeking his head into the dark hospital room. Everyone began to move. The two crates were standing at the ready, Armstrong gently placed Alphonse in one while Roy crawled in the other. 

 

“Alright, bring him in.” Mustang said, after getting himself adjusted. The wood of the crate was digging uncomfortably into his back and he cursed getting older, knowing that he’d feel the effects of this for days to come. 

 

Edward was gently lowered in, cradled in Havoc’s arms. He carried him like a glass vase that could break at any moment. Mustang reached out and gently took Edward from the man's arms, cradling the boy close to his chest. He situated Edward in a way that ensured he wouldn’t get jostled around too much. The boy was completely still, peacefully sleeping away in a drugged state of unawareness. Mustang ignored the way Ed’s automail port dug uncomfortably into his shoulder.

 

“Is brother okay?” A voice echoed from the next crate over. 

 

“He’s fine. We’re ready.” Mustang assured. Hawkeye peered into the crate and gave Roy a small smile. 

 

“Gonna be a bit dark in here.” She joked half-heartedly. 

 

“Good thing I'm not afraid of the dark,” Mustang chuckled. Hawkeye took one last look at him before securing the lid on top. The crate entered a state of total darkness. Roy leaned his head back against the splintering wood, blinking rapidly to let his eyes readjust faster. He could hear the team talking to Alphonse but their voices were muddled from the barrier of wood between them. 

 

Things moved rather fast after that.

 

They were loaded onto the truck, which was a bumpy and uncomfortable process. Roy’s head would bounce and slam gently into the crate with every movement. He held Edward closer as they moved, hoping his stitches wouldn’t pull from the constant movement. 

 

He heard the sounds of driving and the bumps of the pavement below.

 

He heard the truck stop and the back opened up, the crates were being moved out. 

 

The lid opened and there was his team, smiling at him. 

 

Part 1, done, Mustang thought to himself.

 

They then moved onto part two. Edward was in Hawkeye’s lap in the passenger seat while Roy took the wheel. He told her that Edward would be more comfortable in her arms rather than his, however, it was really stemming from his fear of vulnerability. He needed to be ready to slip on his gloves at any moment. He was made for fighting, not caretaking. He knew the next little while was going to have him overstepping his comfort zone a lot, so he was happy to relinquish the responsibility just for a little bit longer. Alphonse was in the back, positioned in the middle so he could keep an eye on his brother. 

 

“Come in, this is Pawn.” A static of a voice came over the radio. Mustang quickly grabbed the receiver. 

 

“King is in.” 

 

“Bishop is in.” Havoc’s voice crackled through. 

 

“Line secure?” Mustang asked, knowing that the less words he used, the better. 

 

“Affirmative,” Feury replied. Mustang nodded, certain they were in the clear to talk. He trusted Feury and knew that if he wasn’t 110% sure, he wouldn’t say they were good to go. 

 

They drove around aimlessly for a while in silence. They had no particular destination but were staying within the area for a swift turn-around once they received the all clear. Hawkeye was absent-mindedly running her fingers through Edwards hair. His head lying limply on her shoulder. 

 

“West side clear.” Havoc echoed through. 

 

“East side clear.” Feury chimed in a few minutes later. 

 

It was go time. Roy sped up, moving now towards his home. It slowly came into view as he crested over the hill. It wasn’t anything special, a mere two story Victorian style home. The grass was overgrown and a long string of ivy crawled up the side of the brick. Mustang never had time to tend to the place, and so it looked like a jungle compared to the other houses on the block. They parked in the small, stone driveway and made haste moving into the house. Knox was dropped off earlier by Havoc and was waiting for them at the door. Hawkeye hurried with Edward in her arms into the home while Knox and Mustang moved Alphonse. 

 

Phase one was a success. 

 

He now relinquished the rest of the responsibilities of getting set up to the rest of his team. 

 

“I’ll be heading out now.” Hawkeye said after laying Edward down on the small bed of Mustang’s guest room. 

 

“Right. Don’t be followed. I’ll see you in the morning,” Roy replied. Hawkeye smiled, took one last look at Edward and hurried out the door. She and the others in the team had long since ditched their uniforms to sport a more casual getup. Roy watched her long, blonde hair swish behind her as she left. 

 

“You gonna gawk all day?” Knox grimaced. Mustang whipped around and rubbed the back of his head. 

 

“Sorry. How is he?” He asked, trying to steer the conversation away from himself.

 

“Boys got a fever setting in, but nothing extreme. I’m sure his immune system took a hit when that automail was ripped off. Go get me a wet washcloth.” Knox demanded. Mustang walked out the door, rolling his eyes. Even though Knox was a trustworthy ally and a kick ass doctor, he still had a terrible bedside manner. He smirked a bit. Edward and Knox were going to get along swimmingly. 

 

…

The hours waned on and Edward still hadn’t stirred. Alphonse watched through the window as the sun slowly set. The room shifted colors from a bright white, to a dull orange and finally to darkness. A small lantern was lit next to Edward’s bed, which illuminated his face slightly. His golden hair lay sprawled out on the pillow and the blanket had been tucked above his shoulders. Every so often Knox would change the rag on Ed’s head, but otherwise didn’t say a word to Alphonse. 

 

Everything seemed too easy. They got Edward out, but now what? What was going to happen next? There was no way they were in the clear, right? Something was bound to go wrong. It always went wrong. Alphonse had gotten used to expecting the worst. 

 

Yet, right now everything seemed mildly peaceful. 

 

“Ngh…”

 

“Brother?” Alphonse tilted his head up towards the noise in anticipation. He listened acutely to Edwards movements and breathing. 

 

“Brother?” Everything was quiet, had he gone back to sleep? No. His breathing wasn’t as deep anymore. What was he doing? “Brother, are you okay?” Alphonse tried again. 

 

Edward sprung out of the bed with a jolt, the rag fell onto the bed as he propelled himself off of the mattress with as much force as he could muster. As he landed on his feet, he winced, instinctually clutching his thigh. He let out a small yelp as his shoulder pulled. 

 

“Hey don’t get up yet!” Alphonse yelled. 

 

“Al?! Al where are you? We gotta get out of here!” Edward’s voice sounded strained and panicked. He tried to take a step forward, but only managed to have his legs give out on him as he crashed to the floor. 

 

“Edward, stop! You’ll hurt yourself!” Alphonse demanded. 

 

“No, we gotta get you out of here! Before those crazy bastards come back!” Edward yelled. He grabbed onto the bedside table, attempting to pull himself up. 

 

Just then, the door swung open. Mustang and Knox came rushing in. 

 

“You idiot, what the hell are you doing out of bed?!” Knox yelled, going towards the boy. Edward squinted, and kicked out at the man. 

 

“Get the hell away from me and my brother!” He screamed, voice raw and dry. 

 

…

Edward could hardly see, his vision blurred in and out. All he knew was that he was in a dark room. A new place. This most definitely wasn’t the hospital anymore, the room he was in was small and smelled different. It was so damn cold in here too. Were they outside? Did the kidnappers take them to the north?

 

 He heard Alphonse yelling to him but couldn’t pinpoint his location. His leg was howling and without an arm, he was severely off balance. As he gripped the nightstand, his shoulder blasted him with a wave of needles and he was back on the ground. He desperately wanted to curl up on the floor and never move again,

 

But truth be damned if he was gonna just sit here and let these assholes hurt his brother. 

 

He honestly didn’t know how they got them again. Wasn’t Mustang with them? Weren’t they being guarded? Either way, it didn’t matter. He was getting him and Alphonse out of this mess. 

 

The door to the room swung open and two large, blurry figures were silhouetted in the doorway. The light from outside the room poured in and stung his eyes. One of the men approached him and Edward kicked out with his metal foot.

 

“Get the hell away from me and my brother!” 

 

He kicked out again, landing a good jab square in the man's stomach. He fell back with a grunt. Edward used his automail leg to propel himself backwards, his back slamming into the bed. 

 

“Fullmetal, Stop! It's us!” 

Huh? 

 

Edward squinted harder trying to recognize the features of the man in front of him. He was knelt down, but wasn’t moving to restrain him, or drug him or beat the hell out of him. 

 

“Brother! It’s just Mustang and Doctor Knox, you’re safe!” Alphonse cried. 

 

Oh. 

 

Edward blinked rapidly, slowly making out the dark eyes and hair of his superior officer. The fight left his body entirely after that. He slumped to the side, unable to hold himself up. A gloved hand was on him in an instant. Every ache, cut and stitch made itself known at this point. 

 

“M’ not dreamin right?” Ed asked, truly unsure if he was having a drug induced hallucination or not. 

 

“No. You aren’t, you’re safe.” Mustang said, his voice more gentle than usual. 

 

That's weird, right?

 

“Where are we?” He asked, lolling his head to the side to look around the room. 

 

“My house. The hospital wasn’t safe anymore.” Mustang replied. Edward’s eyes went wide as he forced himself to sit up again. 

 

“Your house? What the hell are we doing here?” Edward asked. 

 

“Like I said, the hospital wasn’t safe anymore. Don’t worry we are handling it. Just focus on healing right now.” Mustang urged. Edward scrunched his eyes shut, trying to make sense of everything

 

He and Alphonse were now somehow in the Colonels personal home. With his personal things, lying in one of his beds. It felt incredibly wrong for Edward to be doing this. He saw the Colonel as nothing more than the blue suit and the cushy office. He never even thought about Mustang having his own place. If Ed were to guess, the Colonel would just live at HQ. Embarrassment flushed on Edwards cheeks. The Colonel had done too much for him and Alphonse in a very short amount of time. He carried him, guarded him, and now took him into his own home!

 

He was really, truly, never going to live this down. 

 

“You okay, Al?” Ed asked, not able to see past the bed where his brother was in the opposite corner of the room.

 

“I’m okay. But don’t do that again! You need to rest!” Alphonse scolded. 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry bro.” Edward chuckled. 

 

“I’m sorry, we should have told you the plan… You woke up confused because of it.” Alphonse said sadly. 

 

Before Edward could speak again, he was being lifted. He tried to squirm, but he had completely lost any strength he had. He shivered as he was laid down on the bed again, his eyes still clenched shut. Afraid that if he opened them, he’d throw up. 

 

“Knox is gonna take a quick look at you, alright? Don’t kick him this time.” Mustang prompted. Edward nodded. 

 

“Sorry about that…” He said sheepishly. 

 

“That leg of yours really packs a punch.” Knox huffed, still trying to catch his breath after it was thrown out of him from the kick. 

 

“Can ya close the window? It’s freezing in here.” Ed mumbled, shivering again. There was a silence around the room. He cracked open one of his eyes, “Did ya go deaf or something?” He flinched back as a large hand was plastered over his forehead. 

 

“Fevers gone up.” Knox said, “Seems you are due for another round of reducers.” He grabbed a small bottle from beside the bed. 

 

“You think you can swallow these?” Edward nodded mindlessly. He felt a hand loop around his back as he was pulled up slowly into a sitting position. A cup was brought to his lips and cool water was gently poured into his mouth. It tasted like liquid gold, coating his cotton-dry mouth and throat. He gulped down the water as quickly as possible, not caring that it was spilling down his chin. After a moment the cup was taken away and two pills were placed in Ed's hand. He tipped his head back as he took the fever reducers, finishing off the glass of water. He was laid back down and that's when everything grew very distant, exhaustion slowly lulling him to sleep. 

 

“Al,” Ed slurred sleepily. 

 

“What is it?” Alphonse replied. 

 

“Not your fault. Colonel Bastard was the one who brought me to his ugly house without telling me.” He smiled as he felt the daggers of Mustang's eyes pierce into him. Even without his eyes open, he always knew when he succeeded in perturbing The Flame Alchemist. “Just upset I kicked Knox instead of you, Colonel.” 

 

“If you did, I would be forced to add more desk duty on you.” Mustang teased. 

 

“Desk duty? Since when did I have desk duty?” Ed groaned. 

 

“Hmm… Maybe it was when you had a little breakout from the hospital? I’m taking the money out of your state funds for the repairs by the way.” 

 

Edward huffed in response, slowly letting himself drift into sleep. 

 

…

Knox covered Edward with the blanket after checking his stitches once again. He changed the bandages around his torso and placed another rag on his forehead. Thankfully, none of the stitches ripped again from his outburst. 

 

“This kid is a real piece of work.” Knox groaned, rubbing his still sore stomach.

 

“Thanks, doc.” Mustang chuckled. Knox waved him off as he left the room, heading back downstairs to his spot on the couch. Roy looked down and noticed he was still wearing his gloves. After they heard the crash, his mind automatically went to the worst case scenario. He took them off and shoved them in his pants pocket. 

 

“Any updates?” Alphonse asked.

 

“Not yet. Seems the old coot knows where to hide. However, it doesn’t seem that he’s picked up on the fact you aren’t at the hospital anymore.”

 

“That's good… Hey um… Can I ask one favor from you though?” 

 

Mustang tilted his head and the sudden shyness of the boy's voice. 

 

“Sure. What's up?” Mustang replied. 

 

“Um… Please… Don’t kill him. I know that's a lot to ask, but I don’t want anyone else getting killed. Not even the bad guys… I want him to face justice for what he did to my brother.” Alphonse tilted his armored head down. 

 

“Is that silly? To ask for mercy on a person who doesn’t deserve it?” He laughed breathlessly. 

 

“I don’t think it's silly…” Mustang began, “don’t worry. We won’t let this bastard take the easy way out.” He assured. 

 

“Thanks, Colonel Mustang.” Alphonse said, his voice mimicking a smile. 

 

“You two just focus on recovery. Is there anything you still need while I'm up?” Mustang asked. 

 

“Um…” Alphonse fell silent, obviously embarrassed. Roy didn’t need to see an expression to know that. 

 

“What is it?” Roy prodded. 

 

“Could you… Stay here? I don’t want Ed to wake up afraid again and end up hurting himself…” Alphonse trailed off. Mustang smiled. 

 

“Sure kid.” He said softly, knowing that Alphonse wanted the company just as much as he wanted someone there for Edward. Roy left the room and grabbed his pillow and blanket. There was a small armchair in the corner of the room that probably hadn’t been used in a decade. He brushed it off with his hand and curled up into it, ignoring the strain it had on his body. He was probably going to wake up incredibly sore tomorrow, but that was a problem for future Roy to deal with. At this point, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The last two days were filled with nothing but chaos. He could have probably fallen asleep standing up if he tried. 

 

Sleep came to him quickly and he welcomed it with open arms. 

 

…

Edward awoke with a small gasp, his golden orbs flinging open. A hazy memory of a nightmare was lingering in his brain as he grounded himself. For a split second, he panicked, unsure where he was or what had happened. 

 

It wasn’t until he saw the man curled up in the chair across the room that he was able to relax. Mustang was snoring softly, his limbs tangled up in a small ball and his neck hanging down in a way that would probably give him one hell of a crick in the morning. 

 

He was in Mustang's house. He was safe. Edward reminded himself, slowing his breathing. He was glad that he didn’t wake his superior officer, he didn’t need his hovering. Not for a stupid nightmare. Edward wanted to sit up, but he was still far too tired to even attempt it. Instead, he turned his head to the side and smiled at the soulfire eyes that were staring out the window. 

 

“Al.” Edward whispered, wanting to reach out towards him. 

 

“Brother! How are you feeling?” Alphonse replied softly. 

 

“Fine. Are you okay?” Ed asked. 

 

“I’m alright.” Alphonse said tiredly. 

 

“Good… Good.” Edward trailed off, unsure what to say. 

 

“Do you need anything? I could wake the Colonel for you…” 

 

“No! No… I’m fine. Thanks.” Edward smiled. A dull, throbbing headache pulsed behind his eyes and his entire body felt like one large bruise, but otherwise he was okay. “Why are we here anyways?” Edward asked. He somewhat recalled Mustang saying that the hospital wasn’t safe anymore, but it was a blurred recollection. 

 

“Oh. Um…” Alphonse turned away.

 

“Tell me. Don’t feel like ya have to hide it.” Ed insisted, slightly annoyed that Al wouldn’t tell him right away. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need any sort of special treatment. 

 

“Do you remember the warehouse? Where you found me?” 

 

“Somewhat. I remember fighting two guys. It smelled terrible in there… There were…” Ed suddenly stopped speaking. A memory crawled forward, empty, vacant eyes staring at him. Flies buzzing. Matted, bloody hair. Blue skin with deep hacks into them… 

 

“Brother?” 

 

Ed felt bile rise in his throat. He leapt from the bed, pushing through the pain that attacked his thigh as he rushed out the door. 

 

“Brother!” Alphonse was calling to him, but he didn’t have time for that. His stomach lurched as he swallowed the acidic, burning vomit. He blurrily looked for the bathroom, cursing himself for not knowing where it was. He rushed down the hall until he noticed a small bathroom, the door propped open slightly. He pushed it open and slammed it behind him. He barely made it to the porcelain before he retched into it. The water he had earlier along with burning stomach acid violently exploded from his mouth and splashed into the toilet below him. Spit dribbled down his chin as his stomach flipped on its head and he gagged some more, unable to bring up anything else from his stomach. He could hear a small knock from the other side of the door, but it was drowned out by the flashing images of those women… They were dead… Murdered and put into a pile like they were nothing. 

 

Women who had names, family, friends… Maybe even children…

 

Just tossed aside like that.

 

It reminded him of his mom. 

 

The thought made him absently hurl some more. His throat burned but nothing more came up. He had sweat through the shirt he didn’t remember being put into and his bangs clung to his forehead, which was happening much too often for Ed’s liking at this point. When he was able to quell his stomach he leaned tiredly on the cool toilet seat. His eyes screwed shut. He focused on slowing his breathing. He took his one arm and wiped it across his face, scrubbing the spit and leftover bile from his chin. 

“I’m coming in if you don’t answer me.” 

 

Right. Mustang. 

 

“I’m fine.” Edward wheezed, guilt bubbling in his heart. 

 

The door opened. Ed rolled his head and glared up at the raven haired man standing before him. 

 

“I said I was fine.” Edward groaned. 

 

“Clearly.” Mustang knelt down beside Edward and put a hand on his back. Ed raised his head and shrugged him off, backing up into the wall. He leaned back, closing his eyes. He gulped and let out a long sigh. He could hear Mustang stand and leave. He came back moments later and sat across from him again. Ed cracked open an eye to see a small glass of water being held out in front of him. He hesitated before reaching out towards it, too tired and in pain to rebel. He gulped down the cup and sluggishly handed it back to Mustang. 

 

“You need me to get Doctor Knox?” The Colonel asked, setting the cup beside him on the tile floor. 

 

No way in hell was Edward going to bother another person tonight. He recalled kicking Knox earlier in the evening and more guilt overflowed as he thought about it. He probably should be checked out by Knox again, he could feel the grips of the fever on his skin as he shivered through the sweating, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He just needed to go back to bed. 

 

“No. I’m alright.”  Edward said quietly, shutting his eyes again.

 

“You sure? You just threw up in my bathroom.” Mustang noted.

 

“Was the painkillers.” Edward lied, “Didn’t settle well.”  He didn’t dare tell the colonel that he threw up because of some memory. He wasn’t going to show the bastard anymore weaknesses, not when he already had an arsenal of things against him that he could tease him about later. Mustang hummed, sounding like he didn’t quite believe him. Ed silently prayed he wouldn’t try and drag it out of him. 

 

“You shouldn’t sleep on the bathroom floor.” Mustang finally quipped. 

 

“Maybe I like sleeping on the floor, that ever occur to you?” Ed argued as lightly as he could. The colonel let out a deep sigh. 

 

“Alphonse is worried. Get back to bed.” 

 

Ah. He knew exactly how to get Edward to do whatever he wanted. 

 

Damn him. 

 

“Fine. For Al, not for you.” Ed grimaced. He got his automail leg from under him and attempted to push himself upwards. When he tried to put pressure on his other leg, it promptly refused. He winced as it crumpled. Mustang jumped up, grabbing Ed by his sole arm. The action tugged lightly at his stitches, causing Ed to suck in air through his teeth. Mustang softened his grip and moved closer to the teen, not wanting to pull his arm too much. 

 

“Get offa’ me, bastard.” Ed grimaced. 

 

“And let you make your concussion worse by slamming your head into the floor? Too much paperwork. Not gonna happen.” Mustang replied. He gingerly slung Ed’s arm over his shoulder, careful to not pull him too hard. His other arm gripped Ed’s side. The two of them hobbled out of the bathroom and into the spare room. Edwards thigh and shoulder pulsed and stung with every step and didn’t begin to ebb away until Mustang had seated him on the side of the bed. 

 

Edward felt the guilt explode at that point. Mustang was doing too much. Knox was doing too much. Alphonse was doing too much. Everyone was doing too damn much. He didn’t deserve the kindness, the handouts, the care. He could take care of himself and Alphonse. He didn’t need anyone else's assistance. He’d done it on his own for years, a few little injuries shouldn’t put him out this much. He hated it. He wanted to shout and scream at everyone to just leave him alone, but he couldn’t muster up the strength to do so. Edward slowly lowered himself on his side (more like flopped. He blamed the lack of an arm). The blanket that had fallen to the floor was gently laid over him. He glanced up to Mustang but quickly darted his gaze away.

I don’t need your sympathy. 

 

I don’t deserve it… 

 

“Brother, are you okay?” Alphonse’s sickeningly sweet voice. 

 

“Yeah. Sorry. Stomach was just a bit upset,” Edward said, trying to not sound as tired as he felt. 

 

“Okay…” Alphonse replied, unconvinced, Edward cringed slightly. They were talking about the incident when Edward jumped up to leave, which meant Al probably knew exactly why that had happened. 

 

Edward wondered if this constant state of embarrassment and helplessness would go away anytime soon. He heard Alphonse speaking to Mustang, but was having trouble putting together their words. He mindlessly stared at the window, looking out the sheer curtains into the darkness of the night. He silently wondered what time it was. He still needed to ask Alphonse why they were at Mustang's house in the first place (since they were interrupted by his own weakness). He needed to tell Mustang not to bother cleaning the bathroom, that he’d do it himself in the morning. (Please, don’t clean it. Don’t look at it). He needed to tell them both to stop fretting over him so much,

 

But he was too tired to form any words and he fell into a shameful slumber once again.

Notes:

Hey! If you read this far, thats super cool. I actually wanted to self promote a little bit here about a short story I wrote! Go to Commaful and search up MelaJoy and read my story "Don't go", which was inspired by the BEAUTIFUL song by Dimash of the same name. You can also read it on my tumblr Fullmela! I posted some poetry on there too! Just in case you want to see what else I write other than just fanfics!

Anywhoooo see you in the next chapter! <3

Chapter 8: A Brother's Stupidity

Summary:

Edward and Alphonse continue their recovery in Colonel Mustangs house while the rest of the team search for the whereabouts of Thomas Reinbuckle.

Notes:

A fluffy chapter! Things gonna be getting REAL soon. Be prepared. More whump, more fluff to follow, its gonna be a rollercoaster. I'm excited. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 8: A Brothers Stupidity

 

“I see… So that bastard has it out for me, huh?” Edward sighed. He was sitting up in the small bed, propped up against some pillows. The morning sun shone brightly through the windows, giving a warm glow to the space. Alphonse was still in the same place, sitting against the wall while Mustang and Knox were standing around the bed. Ed fisted the sheets tightly in his hand. 

 

“You okay, brother?” Alphonse asked. Ed quickly released his grip and forced his jaw to untighten. Roy noticed the deep circles that had formed under the young alchemist's eyes, making them almost look bruised. 

 

“Fine, Al.” Ed forced a smile. He scooted over and swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

 

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!” Knox berated, moving to stop the boy from standing. 

 

“Need to use your phone, Colonel.” Ed said with an obvious strain in his voice. 

 

“For what?” Roy questioned. 

 

“Can’t face the asshole with only one arm. Need to get Winry out here.” Ed stated. 

 

“No can do, sorry.” Mustang replied, walking to stand next to Knox. 

 

“Why the hell not?!” Ed cried. 

 

“Can’t risk our location being compromised.” Roy said flatly. 

 

“I can’t just sit here while that maniac is out there! He could hurt someone else. I need to get to him before he gets to me.” Ed stammered. 

 

“We are handling it. Your only job right now is to recover.” Mustang declared. 

 

“No! I can handle my own shit Mustang! I don’t need you babysitting me.” Ed said with venom in his voice. 

 

“Oh, and you really handled it well back at the warehouse, right? Your stupidity almost got you killed!” Roy’s voice rose in volume. He was doing his best to not get upset with the kid but the battle was slowly being lost. Ed’s eyebrows furrowed as he clenched his fist. He stood, which caused him to wince slightly. He held his face as straight as he could, trying to hide the obvious pain he was in. 

 

“Well you weren’t doing anything! You drugged me . Did you forget that I was the one who found Al and not you? I can handle this on my own, I don’t need your handouts!” Edward was yelling at this point, his face turning red from the strain. 

 

“Edward, shut up!” Everyone fell silent, their heads whipping around to the unmoving armored boy in the corner. Ed’s eyes softened as he gazed on his younger brother. 

 

“Al, you don’t get it-” 

 

“No, you don’t get it! The Colonel and his team have done nothing but help us! You’re being stupid!” Alphonse cried out. 

 

“Hey! Don’t call me stupid!” Ed yelled. 

 

“I’ll call it as I see it! You really want to bring Winry here and risk the lives of Mustang, his team and Doctor Knox? You really want to risk Winry’s safety? And for what? So you can prove a point? You don’t always have to do everything on your own!” There was a lingering silence as Alphonse finished. Ed sat back down, his head lowering.

 

“Sorry, Al.” He replied quietly. 

 

“You don’t have to put it all on yourself. Trust Mustang and his team, let them help us. Don’t make it more difficult for them.” Alphonse said gently. Ed nodded silently in response. 

 

“I just hate seeing you like that… If I had my arm I could fix you. It's my fault you got this way anyways…” Ed choked. 

 

“This isn’t your fault. Besides, I'm fine. I can wait until you are better.” Al replied. 

 

“You can’t move, Al. Can’t hold a book or write or do anything to pass the time! It isn’t fair…” Edward sulked. 

 

“I have you, Mustang and Doctor Knox… I’m okay brother, really. Please just focus on yourself right now.” 

 

Ed let out a long sigh and stood again, much more slowly this time, mindful of his injuries. 

 

“What is it now?” Knox rolled his eyes. 

 

“Can’t a guy go piss without someone breathing down his neck?” Ed said dully. Knox huffed in disapproval and turned to leave the room. 

 

“Wait there a sec.” He said, Ed tilted his head in confusion but listened. Mustang noted the lack of fire in Edwards voice and glazed, sad look in his eyes. He felt totally out of his element here. He could handle the fire of the kid, but the water that he usually kept inside was not something Mustang was easily able to deal with. Roy teetered on his feet, unsure of what to do. 

 

Thankfully, Knox returned before Roy could combust from awkwardness. He carried a small, wooden crutch in his hands and thrusted it towards Edward. 

 

“Really?” Ed looked at them with distaste. 

 

“If you want that leg to heal faster, then yes. Really.” Knox replied sarcastically. Edward rolled his eyes and took the crutch, putting it under his flesh armpit. 

 

“Too tall for ya, pipsqueak?” Mustang teased, hoping to lighten the young teens spirits. 

 

“Shut up, Bastard or this will go right into your nose,” Ed spat back. Mustang felt a momentary relief. His reaction wasn’t as explosive as usual, but it was something. Ed hobbled out of the room, there was a small click as the bathroom door shut. The tension in the room remained stagnant. Alphonse had gone quiet, his helmet low and eyes fixed on his broken armor. Knox crossed over to the armchair that Roy slept in last night and opened his notebook, jotting only god-knows what inside. 

 

“I have some books in my study I could bring up for you both. I’m sure Edward would read it aloud so you both could read it…” Mustang offered. Alphonse’s head rose, although he was an expressionless suit of armor, it was almost as if he was blushing. 

 

“Oh! That would be great! I know brother gets antsy when he is bored.” Al replied, a bit of cheer put back into his voice. 

 

“It's for you too, Alphonse.” Mustang mentioned,

 

“Right…” Al trailed off. Mustang smiled softly, 

 

“What kinds of books should I look for? My study doesn’t have much but I'll try to find something useful.” 

 

“Oh! Um… Anything is fine, we like learning about anything and everything…” Al said,

 

“I have a few books on water-based alchemy and medical alchemy that may be interesting.” Mustang suggested.

 

“That would be fine! But, you only do flame alchemy, right? Are you trying to learn different kinds?” Alphonse asked. 

 

“Haha, I like to stay in the loop. I may not perform those types of alchemy but it's always good to know about them,” Roy replied. 

 

“Thanks, Colonel! It means a lot… What are your plans for the day?” 

 

“Once Ed is back and settled I'm going to head to the hospital for a few hours. The squad will rotate tonight, I believe Havoc is reporting in.” Mustang said.

 

“I see… Thank you for going through all this trouble.” Alphonse said gratefully. 

 

“No trouble at all.” Mustang replied. 

 

“Brothers been in there for a while… Should we go check on him?” Alphonse noticed, turning his head towards the door. Knox stood,

 

“I’ll go.” He stated, walking out of the room.

 

“So, have you ever tried any different forms of alchemy before?” Alphonse asked,

 

“Sure. I’ve dabbled in almost everything. Horrible at them, but I know the basics at least,” 

 

Knox popped his head into the doorway with an expressionless gaze. 

 

“Probably gonna need you for this one, Flame.” He said with a slight twinge on his voice. Mustang hurried towards the door. 

 

“Is he okay?” Alphonse fretted, Mustang gave Alphonse a reassuring smile and put a hand on Knox’s shoulder. Knox nodded in silent understanding and moved to be with Alphonse instead. Mustang left the room and strode to the door. He raised his hand to knock before hearing a small, choked sob come from the other side.

“Fullmetal?” Mustang tried, the choking was replaced by a few erratic breaths, as if he was trying to stifle his cries. Mustang gently turned the handle and opened the door. Edward was sitting against the bathtub, his automail knee brought up to his chest with his flesh one stretched out in front of him. His head was tucked down, forehead resting on his metal knee. His loose, golden locks hid his face from view. 

 

“Fullmetal?” Mustang tried again. 

 

“Go away.” Edward sniffled, trying to sound more put together than he was. Mustang knelt down beside the boy and stared at him for a long moment. He was shocked to see much of himself within Edward. Roy had spent countless days in this exact position after Hughes passed. Usually with a bottle of whiskey beside him though. Edward looked drained and it didn’t help that he was missing an entire arm. He looked small… pathetic even. Mustang tried to think back to what helped him out of his funk. Hawkeye was there most nights, putting cups of water in his hand and talking with him. Havoc was there to make sure he showered, Breda cooked for him and made sure he ate. 

 

People took care of him when he couldn’t do it for himself. 

 

That's what Edward needed right now. Even if he didn’t want it. 

 

“Fullmetal. Look at me.” Mustang knelt down beside Edward and peered down to try and get a look at his face. Edward didn’t move for a moment, but slowly he turned his head to the side. A single golden orb appeared through the long locks of hair. It was blood-shot and filled with a desperate look.

 

Roy noted that Edward hadn’t been crying, but seemed to be on the verge of it.

 

Mustang didn’t know what to do, he felt like a floundering fish that was just pulled out of the water. He wasn’t made for this gentle, sweet demeanor. But Edward was just a child, a scared and traumatized child who needed someone. Why did that someone have to be him, though?

 

A knock at the door was his escape from a certain explosion of discomfort. He was silently thanking whatever was out there for his constant rescues. 

 

“Colonel?” Riza’s voice was like an angel from the heavens. He looked at Edward for a brief moment.

 

“Can she come in?” Roy asked, Edward pondered for a moment before nodding. 

 

“Come on in, Lieutenant.” 

 

…

Riza was not sure what she was expecting when she opened the door to the bathroom. She had stopped by after receiving word from Falman (who was on watch), that the Colonel hadn’t yet left for the hospital. She had been doing recon around Central and decided to pop in to check on them. 

 

If she was being honest with herself, she had a desire to see how Edward and Alphonse were faring. Also to see if the Colonel had burnt down his house yet. She knew that Edward and Roy could get heated in each other's company. 

 

However, when she opened the door and saw a dilapidated young boy leaning against the bathtub and a very lost looking Mustang, she was stunned into silence, which didn’t happen often. Mustang glanced at her with a look she knew well. Without a word she sat next to the Colonel. 

 

“Edward? Are you alright?” She inquired kindly, using a gentle hand to brush the boy's hair out of his face. She wasn’t sure if Ed would recoil from her touch or not, but he didn’t. Instead, he seemed to lean into her contact, like it was an elixir of life. He didn’t respond, only looked from her to the Colonel with uncertain eyes. 

 

“Sir, go and make some ginger tea. I brought some. It’s downstairs.” She said, not taking her eyes off of the boy. Mustang nodded and stood, leaving the room silently. Now that Ed and Riza were alone, she saw the teens' walls crumble. 

 

He was holding it together just so he wouldn’t let Roy see him like this. 

 

He choked on a sob and put his head back on his knee, his breathing picking up into small hiccups. She put a hand on his back and rubbed up and down, just as she had done for Roy not too long ago. 

 

“Tell me what happened,” She said. Ed took a moment to collect himself, forcing his breathing to slow. He straightened out his metal leg and leaned his head back. His face was red. It was obvious he was being held tightly by a fever. Tears were formed in his eyes, but had not yet broken the surface. Ed’s flesh arm was held across his chest, fisted in his shirt.

 

“Sorry. I just needed a second.” Edward stated, his voice shaking slightly. 

 

“Why’s that?” Riza prodded. Ed was deep in thought, as if he was contemplating whether to tell her or not. She smiled at him gently. 

 

“Don’t worry. Anything you say won’t leave this bathroom.” She assured. Edward let out a long, shuddering sigh. 

 

“The guilt… It's suffocating me.” He started, “You and everyone else have done so much for me and I can’t do anything about it. There's a madman looking to kill me and I can’t even walk to go face him. I feel so useless . Mustang let me stay in his house, you all are spending personal time to help me… Al… Al’s…” Ed choked on a sob again, he took a second to breathe before continuing. “Al got taken because of my stupidity. Al got broken because of my inability to protect him. Al can’t walk, or read, or write or eat or sleep or-” Ed was rambling at this point, his breathing picking up again. Riza pulled the boy into a gentle hug, his head wrapped around her strong arms. 

 

“Breathe. You’re alright, you’re here. Al is here. He doesn’t blame you for any of this.” She whispered. Edward took a few deep breaths. She could feel his trembling form in her embrace and the heat was practically radiating off of the boy.  She pulled away after Edwards' muscles relaxed slightly.  

 

“It’s okay to let people help you once in a while. That's what you do for people you care about. If the Colonel or I were in that situation, would you drop everything to help us?” 

 

“Of course…”  Ed whispered. 

 

“Then why can’t we help you? You can trust the adults to take care of things every once in a while.” She said, 

 

“Ross said the same thing to me after the lab incident…” Ed trailed off. 

 

“Because it’s true. I know you like to try and do everything on your own, but that's just not possible. Not for me, or the Colonel or anyone.” She put a hand on Edward’s shoulder, “if you try to do everything by yourself, it’ll only destroy you. Trust me, I know.” 

 

Edward looked to the floor and traced his flesh finger on the grout lines of the tile. 

 

“How do you do it?” He asked. 

 

“Do what?” 

 

“Let others in…” Edward sounded like a frail child. His words bounced on innocence. Edward had always been a little bit softer with Riza, but to see him this vulnerable was completely foreign to her. She put her hands in her lap and slumped her shoulders inward.  

 

“It's not always easy. I can’t say I know exactly how. However, when others offer their help, don’t be afraid to take it. They offer their help for a reason, Edward,” She said. Ed took in her words and looked up at her with a slight smile. 

 

“Thanks, Hawkeye.” He said. She reached forward and squeezed his shoulder gently, returning the grin. Ed moved his hand to brush his hair out of his face and blew upwards to get his bangs away from his eyes. 

 

“Do you want me to put your hair up?” She asked. Ed’s already red face turned even redder. 

 

“N-no, that's okay! I can do it…” He stuttered. Riza pulled a small hair tie from her own hair, letting her locks fall past her shoulders. 

 

“Can’t be easy putting up your hair with one hand, can it?” She chuckled. Ed pursed his lips and looked to the floor. 

 

“I can do it… Just not… Easily…” He admitted. 

 

“Turn around, I'm sure you’ll be more comfortable with it out of your face.” She said, Edward complied, slowly turning to face away from her. 

 

“I can’t do a braid, is a ponytail okay?” 

 

“That's fine…” 

 

Riza got to work pulling the long strands of hair back, she was mindful not to do it too tightly, as he still had a head injury. She was especially careful around the middle of the back of his head, where he was struck. He couldn’t help but wince as she grazed against the sore bump. 

 

“Sorry…” Riza apologized, continuing to work. 

 

“No, it's okay. Didn’t even hurt that bad,” Ed said, waving her apology away. She worked some tangles out with her fingers using a gentle touch. Edward had closed his eyes, the exhaustion was evident on his small face. He relaxed fully as she thrummed her fingers along his scalp. 

 

“Where did you learn how to braid?” Riza asked. 

 

“My mother. I’d braid her hair a lot,”  Edward explained.

 

“I kept my hair short for a long time, so a ponytail or a bun is about all I can do… Did you know the Colonel can do about a hundred different hairstyles?” Edward opened one eye in disbelief 

 

“No way. You’re lying.”

 

“It’s true! He had a lot of sisters and spent a lot of time doing their hair. You should see him at work, he’s really good at it.” Hawkeye said, Edward let out a snort and smiled. 

 

“Who woulda thought the bastard was able to do anything other than alchemy,” He chuckled. 

 

“You’d be surprised.” 

 

“Got any other dirt on him?” Ed said with a gleam in his eye. 

 

“Just between you and me, the colonel is an exceptional seamster.” Riza whispered, knowing she’d regret telling Edward this later. However, it seemed to bring up his spirits, so it was worth it. 

 

“No… Way…” Edward was stifling a loud laugh. “Colonel Mustang. The bastard flame alchemist…. Can sew? ” Edward closed his eyes again with a devious grin on his face, no doubt envisioning the image. 

 

Hawkeye quickly finished, tying off his hair with the band. It wasn’t the best ponytail in the world, But it would do. Edward turned back towards her and thanked her with a tired smile. 

Now that Ed’s hair was out of his face, Riza was able to see him much more clearly. She took this time to take in his physical state. He was sweating but also shivering ever so slightly, the red tint of his skin hadn’t gone away and he seemed to shudder with every breath. She put a hand on his forehead, confirming her suspicions of a fever. She wasn’t aware he had fallen ill on top of his other injuries, but it was to be expected. The boys couldn’t ever catch a break. 

 

“You need to go lay back down.” She stated, putting her mask slightly back up. Ed nodded, which told Hawkeye just how poorly he was feeling. Usually Edward would do everything in his power to rebel against self care. Hawkeye stood and took Edwards hand, slowly helping him to his feet. Ed tried to reach for the crutch that was laying on the floor, but couldn’t manage it without wincing. Riza was swift to pick it up and situate it under his one armpit for him. She opened the door to see the concerned face of Roy staring back at them. He was holding a small mug of steaming liquid. He darted his eyes from Riza to Edward then back to Riza. 

 

“I uh… Have some tea.” He said awkwardly. 

 

“Go ahead and bring it to the room,” Hawkeye said. Roy nodded and scurried ahead of them. She wanted to laugh at the sorry sight of her superior officer. Mustang was usually a natural leader, always knowing what to do and when to do it. He was excellent at giving orders and being the one that everyone could rely on. However, in this situation, he was out of his depth. Looking like a lost puppy in a rainstorm. She walked beside Edward as he hobbled back to the guest bedroom. She kept her hands hovering around him, just in case he fell. He moved with great strain and she wouldn’t be surprised if he collapsed right there. Once they got to the room, she silently helped Edward back to the bed, pulling back the covers and maneuvering him to lay down. By this point, Edwards face was covered in a layer of sweat and he was panting uncontrollably. She covered him up and tucked the corners of the blanket around him, hoping to quell his shivering. His eyes were clenched in discomfort.

 

Knox walked over and felt Edward’s forehead with the back of his hand. He cursed and silently went to shuffle around in his bag. Meanwhile, Roy had set the mug of tea on the bedside table and hurried to move out of the way. 

 

“Al…” Edward heaved, turning his head. He fluttered his eyes open to look at the armored brother. 

 

“Yes, brother?” 

 

“Sorry.” 

 

“For what brother?” 

 

“Being a pain in the ass.” Ed’s voice diminished and he turned his head back to face the ceiling. His eyes shut gently and soon his breathing had evened out. 

 

He was asleep. 

 

“Lieutenant, when did you get here?” Alphonse asked excitedly. 

 

“Not too long ago. I came to collect the colonel,” she explained. 

 

“Ah shit. The hospital.” Roy remembered. 

 

“Language, sir.” Riza said, quirking an eyebrow up at him. Knox had crossed over to Edward, waking him slightly to make him take more fever reducers. Which he lazily did so, before flopping back onto the pillow. Falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit it. 

 

“How is the investigation coming along? Anything new?” Alphonse asked eagerly. 

 

“We still don’t know his whereabouts, but we did some digging on Thomas’s background.” Hawkeye began. Mustang’s face shifted and his stoic mask of a soldier returned. 

 

“Report,” He ordered. Hawkeye nodded,

 

“Yes, sir. Thomas Reinbuckle: age sixty-four is the owner of The Gilded Donkey, a brothel on the south side of Central. He bought the place four years ago after his wife, Amelia Reinbuckle passed away. Prior to his ownership of the brothel, he was a soldier in the strategics department, retiring at the age of sixty.” 

 

“He was a soldier?!” Alphonse said, shocked. 

 

“Strategics no less. Probably why he’s so good at hiding from us…” Mustang concluded. Hawkeye nodded and continued:

 

“Yes sir. We visited his old department in sector seven and interviewed the workers. Many of them described Thomas as a quiet, but fearful individual. They said he was excellent at his job and was vital in many sting operations involving various gangs around the city. We are continuing the search for him, no signs since yesterday.” 

 

“I see… Relay this information to the others and keep me posted with any new developments,” Mustang replied. Hawkeye saluted him in response. “I’m going to head to the hospital. Knox, are you good here?” 

 

“Sure. Bring back some food though. Honestly, why don’t you have any groceries in this place?” Knox complained. 

 

“Sorry. Not home too often. I’ll get some stuff on my way back,” Mustang laughed. Knox waved him off and turned back to his notebook. 

 

“I’ll drive you, sir… See you later Alphonse, stay out of trouble.” She winked.

 

“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” Al giggled looking at Edwards sleeping form. Hawkeye nodded in agreement. Mustang waved goodbye and the two exited the room silently, closing the door gently behind them. 

 

…

Mustang returned about two hours later, carrying a large paper sack of groceries. Knox was sitting at his kitchen table, reading the newspaper. 

 

“Finally. I’m starving,” Knox said, standing. He began to rummage through the many different food items.

 

“How are they?” Mustang asked. 

 

“Fine, short one is still sleeping.” He replied, Mustang sighed and flopped himself into one of the small wooden chairs of his dining room table. He cracked his neck to the side, feeling his muscles pull in discomfort. It was cresting at 4:00 in the afternoon, but Roy felt it was much later. He knew if he laid down, he wouldn’t be able to stay awake. He rubbed his hands on his face and stood, crossing to his liquor cabinet. 

 

“Want some?” He asked, eyeing the doctor. 

 

“Got Bourbon?” 

 

“Of course.” Mustang took two small glasses out from the cupboard and filled them with a hefty amount of liquor. Knox had made himself a sandwich and was sitting back at the table. They sat in a comfortable silence until a knock came at the door. Mustang downed the rest of his glass and stood, heading towards the front of the house. 

 

“Hey boss!” Havoc’s cheery voice came through, he held up a bottle of wine with a goofy grin. “Thought i’d come by and say hello!” 

 

“Thanks for stopping by! Come on in!” Mustang smiled. Havoc strode in, Mustang looked out the door and up to the apartment window where he could see the glint of binoculars. Breda was scheduled to be on lookout. He gave a swift nod and shut the door. Havoc set down the bottle and leaned against the counter. 

 

“You really need to clean out that shed, man. I have cobwebs where cobwebs should never be.” He groaned. 

 

“Report.” Mustang ordered, Havoc sighed and sat at the kitchen table. He gave a small wave to Knox, who ignored him. 

 

“We have a solid lead. We think we know where this bastard is hiding…”

Chapter 9: A Brother's Thief

Summary:

Roy and his team think they have located the infamous serial killer, will they find him and put to rest their anxiety?

Notes:

Shorter chapter today! Sorry to leave ya on a cliffhanger... To be honest this chapter was really hard for me to write! I knew where I wanted this to go, but didn't know how to write the GETTING to that point. Sorry it took a bit! Next chapter should be much easier for me to write as I already have a general idea of it.

Enjoy!

Chapter 9: A Brothers Thief 

 

“You found him?!” Mustang slammed down his palms on the table, his heart jumping at the news. 

 

“We aren't sure just yet,” Havoc grabbed a map from his coat pocket and laid it out on the table. There were a few large, red circles in different locations. Havoc pointed to one of them, “We looked at the business records of the brothel and found that Reinbuckle owns one warehouse, this is where he stores items for the bar… Breda looked at the records of the warehouse where we located Edward and Alphonse and found that it was condemned and owned by no one. The warehouse owned by Reinbuckle is actually on the opposite side of Central,” Havoc pointed to another one of the circles.  

 

“So you think he’s there?” Mustang prodded,

 

“We aren’t sure. Breda is staking it out and will radio Feury if he sees movement, which Feury will then radio to us.” Havoc replied. 

 

“Well. I suppose we are sitting ducks until then, hm?” Mustang sighed. Havoc moved into Mustang's living room, slumping in one of the chairs. Roy and Knox joined him. 

 

“How's the chief?” Havoc asked, glancing towards the staircase that led up to the bedrooms. 

 

“He’ll be alright. Sleeping at the moment,” Mustang replied. 

 

“And Alphonse?” 

 

“I think he’s fine… Hard to tell sometimes with him.” 

 

The three chatted quietly as time ticked on. In that time the team had rotated to their new positions. Hawkeye was in the apartment watching from above, Falman moved to the shed by Mustangs house, Breda remained on patrol as he was staking out the warehouse which left Armstrong to stay at the hospital on guard. Havoc was moved to recon, but made no moves to leave Mustang’s house. 

 

“Pawn to King, come in King.” A small, staticky voice crackled through the small radio Mustang had on his coffee table. Everyone sat up in alarm. Mustang was swift to snatch the small device. 

“This is King.” 

 

“We have eyes on an individual entering the warehouse, sir. Breda is awaiting orders.” Feury replied. 

 

“All units convene at the target location. Feury, radio the MP’s and tell them we need a squad to apprehend Reinbuckle.” Mustang ordered. He and Havoc stood, moving towards the door. Roy grabbed his coat and slung it on. He dug in his pockets and hurried to slip on his gloves. 

 

“Knox-”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, go.” Knox interrupted, waving the two on. Mustang nodded in thanks. Him and Havoc moved outside, where Hawkeye and Falman were already waiting in the car. 

 

“Warehouse is in sector eight, step on it!” Mustang ordered, getting into the passenger seat. Hawkeye wordlessly put the car in drive and skidded off.

 

…

Since joining the military, Riza Hawkeye has rarely felt passion for her job. 

 

She wasn’t passionate about the pomp and circumstance, or the grueling hours. She didn’t enjoy the long ceremonies and the submission she had to show to her higher ups. She despised the blatant sexism that was commonly demonstrated. 

 

And Riza Hawkeye especially hated shooting her gun. 

 

Most assumed that she loved shooting. Most assumed that just because she was an expert marksman, that she automatically enjoyed the act. Riza thought that maybe it was true years ago, before she had to take the lives of innocents.

 

But now, she hated everything about it. 

 

Yet she still did it, she still performed her job that she held no love for, because she felt passion for something else entirely. 

 

She felt passion for the person sitting beside her as she drove to the warehouse. The man who swore to change this country, the man who wanted justice for what happened in Ishval. The man who wanted to make the world a better place, even when it seemed impossible. The man who burned the curse off her back. 

 

She felt passion for her teammates, the ones sitting around her in the vehicle. The people she was able to laugh with and work alongside. The people who’d fight for her just as she’d fight for them. 

 

She also felt passion for the Elric brothers, two boys who she had come to adore. 

 

So, the fiery bubble that encompassed her as she drove left her with a thrill of adrenaline that made her momentarily proud to be in the position of power she was in. They were going to catch the man who hurt the people she cared about and make sure he faces justice.

 

She turned into a small clearing off of the side of the road, opposite of the warehouse and turned the car off, exiting with the others. They were quickly met by Breda, Armstrong and a handful of MP’s, who saluted him as he approached. 

 

“How long ago did he enter?” Mustang asked, eyeing Breda. 

 

“About fifteen minutes ago, sir.” Breda replied, “the entire location is surrounded. He hasn’t left yet. I’m certain of it.” 

 

Mustang nodded, glancing at the MP’s before returning his focus back to his team. 

 

“Alright. Breda, you move to the East side of the building. Falman, you and Havoc head to the back of the building. Armstrong, I need you to take the west side of the building. The MP’s will scatter around all sides. Hawkeye and I will take the front.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, giving him a silent salute before moving into position. Mustang and Hawkeye slowly approached the front door of the building, sticking to the sides of the walls and hiding in the shadows. Mustang rubbed his fingers together, feeling the sizzling tingle of alchemy. He wanted nothing more than to burn this bastard alive, to watch him writhe in pain and scream for mercy… 

 

But he made a promise to Alphonse. So he’d hold back a little. 

 

He’d only moderately burn the man. 

 

Hawkeye took to the other side of the door, her pistol held tightly in her hand. She looked at Roy with her large copper orbs, waiting for his signal. He took this opportunity to peer around the doorway. There was one small light towards the back of the warehouse, but the rest was shrouded in darkness. He took a deep breath before nodding. Him and Hawkeye moved in, their steps silent along the concrete floor. Hawkeye pointed her gun down many long corridors. Boxes upon boxes were piled up, making it hard to take in the entire space. It wasn’t a large warehouse, but was big enough and full enough for someone to easily hide. 

 

Mustang saw a flash of light and dropped to the floor as quickly as possible, a loud bang resounded through the space. There was a puff of smoke as a bullet lodged into one of the many containers. 

 

“Colonel!” Hawkeye moved in front of Roy, firing shots at a dark figure moving through the shadows. Mustang breathed out a sigh of relief, a second later and he would have been a goner. 

 

“You alright?” Riza asked, throwing her head over her shoulder. 

 

“Fine, thanks.” He said, pushing himself to stand. “Did you get a hit on him?” 

 

“I believe I did, but not enough to stop him from moving.” She replied,

 

“He can’t have gone far. Move in!” Mustang ordered. Hawkeye nodded and began inching forward in the warehouse, ducking behind crates as she moved. Mustang did the same on the opposite side of her. 

 

Hawkeye glanced down and saw a small trail of blood leading down one of the corridors. She signaled the Colonel, who was quick to silently join her. He pointed his fingers forward and the two began following the trail. Hawkeye had a vice-like grip on her gun. Her eyes darted around looking for any sign of the enemy. They followed the trail up until they saw a slumped over figure against the far right wall of the warehouse. His breathing was ragged and strained. It was too dark to get a look at his face so Roy snapped his fingers and created a small fire. He moved forward, illuminating the man's features. Hawkeye’s gun was pointed on him, her finger resting on the trigger. 

 

Riza and Roy’s faces switched to that of confusion when they saw the man before them. 

 

It was a young man, no older than thirty. He was sweating profusely and panting through the pain while clutching his side. Blood seeped around his fingers as he glanced up to the two soldiers with emerald eyes. Immediately he bursted into tears, shaking uncontrollably. 

 

“Please don’t kill me! Please! I was only doing what he told me to! I promise!” The man blubbered. Mustang felt his breath hitch and his heart skip a beat. 

 

“Where is Thomas Reinbuckle?!” 

 

…

When Edward opened his eyes, he was greeted with a pitch black room. He slowly pushed himself up to sit, only wincing slightly as a wave of dizziness hit him. He rubbed his eyes with his one hand and took in his surroundings. Alphonse was just where he left him, sitting against the wall. Neither Knox, Mustang or Hawkeye were with them. 

 

He was happy to find that he felt much lighter than before he fell asleep. He wasn’t sweating as much and the pain from his wounds had diminished enough for him to feel somewhat normal. He assumed it was because of whatever drug Knox had coaxed him to take. 

 

“Brother?” Alphonse asked along with the telltale creak of his head moving. 

 

“Hey, Al. How long have I been asleep?” Edward asked, looking out the window into the darkness. 

 

“About five hours now. How do you feel?” 

 

“Better,” Edward said truthfully. He didn’t need to see expressions on Alphonse to know he was smiling. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Edward stated, moving to get off the bed. 

 

“Do you need me to call Doctor Knox?” Al asked calmly.

 

“Nah. I’m fine. Don’t want that old coot following me around,” Edward replied. Alphonse pondered for a moment before letting out a sigh,

 

“Alright. Just don’t hurt yourself and call for help if you need it, okay?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Edward waved. He gingerly stood, putting most of his weight on his automail leg. The crutch was leaning against the bed for easy access. Edward was grateful for that as he reached down to grab it, placing it under his armpit. “Be back in a minute,” Edward said, hobbling out the door. 

 

He quickly shut the bedroom door behind him and glanced around the hallway. It was the first time since arriving that he felt well enough to actually take in his superior officers living quarters. The walls were barren and unpainted, which was not surprising to Edward in the slightest. He didn’t pin Mustang to be the interior decorator type. He shuffled over to the staircase, looking down at the wooden steps. He didn’t feel like taking a tumble down them this evening and with only one arm and an injured leg the likeliness of that happening was quite high.  He sighed and turned around, making his way to the end of the hall where Mustang’s bedroom was located. His curiosity overcame him as he opened the door. The room was small, but decently decorated. There was a large oak bed with two matching side tables on each side. On the far wall was a scarcely filled closet and next to it, a small desk with papers scattered in every direction. Edward made his way over to the desk and began snooping through the documents. Most of them were boring reports, some of which Edward had written after a mission. On the corner of the desk there was a small photograph, Edward picked it up and examined it. It was a photo of a small boy with straight black hair and two adults who looked similar to him. 

 

“Must be the Colonel and his parents…” Edward mumbled. He turned the photo over, reading the small writing, ‘Happy fourth birthday, Roy!’  it said. It was odd to see such a personal belonging of Colonel Mustang’s. Roy was incredibly secretive about his personal life and never spoke of his family or his past. Until now, Edward never thought much about it, but now he found he was more curious than ever. Who really was Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist? The Hero of Ishval? What kind of individual was he? 

 

The door to the bedroom creaked slightly, 

 

“Looks like you leave your desk just as much of a mess here as you do in the office.” Ed said, turning around. 

 

That's when his heart dropped.

 

It was not Mustang standing in front of him…

Chapter 10: A Brother's Kidnapping

Summary:

Who is the mysterious figure behind Edward?

Notes:

Wow! Sorry for lack of an update. I've been on vacation! I hope you enjoy the chapter! We get some protective and parental Mustang. As well as some Feury love!

Chapter 12: A Brother’s Kidnapping

 

Ed dropped his crutch and in an instant moved on the defensive. He swung his automail leg high in the air, narrowly missing his attacker. He then leapt forward, throwing a punch towards the man, which landed square in his jaw. The man reeled back with a grunt. Before Edward could reposition himself for another swing, the assailant tackled him to the ground and pinned him on his stomach. Ed sucked in sharply through his teeth as he banged his injuries hard against the wood floor. Ed struggled in the man's grasp, wriggling relentlessly. The man had one knee pressed into Edwards back while the other was pinning down his arm. All Ed could do was thrash his legs uselessly and buck his head back and forth. 

 

“Mustang! Must-” Ed was cut off as a gag was placed in his mouth and tied tightly around his head. He choked on the fabric and sputtered, trying to talk as much as he could. 

 

“Shut the hell up!” The attacker whisper-shouted in a gruff voice. Ed moved his head to the side, glaring up at the man. Thomas Reinbuckle was smiling down at him with a horrifying gleam in his eyes. It didn’t look human. He chuckled as Ed stopped fighting him, temporarily frozen in fear. 

 

“I must say, it was a clever plan that Colonel Mustang had… But this isn’t the first prey I've had to chase. It was almost too easy!” He gloated. Edward tried to speak but all that came out was a frustrated gurgle. 

 

“That man downstairs put up quite a fight… I’m really getting too old for this,” Thomas whined. Edward felt his eyes widen, was Knox okay? Where was Mustang? What did this guy do to them? 

 

What about Alphonse?

 

Ed began to thrash again with more force than before. He couldn’t let this man take him, he couldn’t let him hurt Al again. He needed to escape, go get help.

 

“Would you stop moving!” Thomas pushed Edwards head down into the floor and increased the pressure on his back and arm. Ed let out an involuntary cry of pain, but still continued to try and escape. Thomas pushed his head further into the wood and leaned down,

 

“You are going to suffer for what you did to me and my family,” he whispered. Ed felt a cry choke in his throat. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared. This man was completely unhinged. He had killed all those women… Mustang, Knox, Hawkeye, all of them could already be dead. Why would he keep them alive? What would he do with Alphonse? His breathing was erratic and he felt he might puke, but he knew if he did he would just aspirate it. So, he swallowed it down as best he could. Ed felt the hand release his head, which allowed him to try and escape once again. His face was red from strain as he tried to desperately free himself. It seemed Reinbuckle was shuffling around in a bag he had brought, which gave Edward a moment to think. An idea popped into his head, granted it was a crazy one: but he had no other choice. 

 

His fingers were still free as Reinbuckle was only holding down his forearm. With his nails he began scratching a small circle into the wood of the floor. The action sent splinters digging underneath his fingernail but he pushed forward until he had a tiny, horribly drawn array. Tapping his finger to it, he felt the glow of alchemical energy flutter around him. With such a poorly drawn circle, it wasn’t near as strong as a reaction he was hoping for, but it was enough to get him free as the wood shot from the ground in a chunk and hit Thomas in his side, knocking him off of Edward. Ed scrambled to get to his feet and pulled out the gag in his mouth, taking in a few gulps of sweet, untampered air. 

 

Reinbuckle got up with a growl and grabbed his bag that had flown across the room with him. Anger was evident on the man's face as he pulled out a syringe. Edward’s stomach dropped, he couldn’t let that man inject whatever that was into him. If he did, it would be over. Edward made a mad dash for the door, swinging it open. He needed to get to Alphonse. He needed to protect him. He ran straight for the guest bedroom, crashing into a small vase in the hallway as he did. The vase clattered to the floor and broke, sending shards in every direction. A few of them embedded into Edwards foot as he scrambled through the next door. 

 

“Brother?!” Alphonse said, fear and worry lacing his voice. Ed turned to slam the door shut, but a foot caught it and pushed the door open with such force, it sent Ed sprawling onto the floor. He gasped and pulled himself upwards. Blood was leaking from his thigh where the stitches ripped. Thomas stormed into the room, approaching Edward with a terrifying speed. Edward swung his automail again, only for it to be caught in Thomas’s hand. Ed’s eyes widened as the leg was pulled, taking him to the ground with it. Thomas sprung on top of him. Ed jerked around once again, but it was futile. Reinbuckle grabbed a fistful of Edwards hair and tilted his head to the side, plunging the needle into his neck. Edward felt the drug pump into his veins. His vision darkened and he felt his mind get foggy. 

 

“Brother! No!” Alphonse was screaming at him, wailing uncontrollably. A terrible sense of deja vu washed over the boy. He fought for as long as he could, until his muscles melted and his brain shut off, leaving him in darkness. 

 

…

Alphonse was horrified. He couldn’t see very well over the bed, but could hear the telltale signs of a struggle. Edward was gasping and panting as he thrashed about, but soon those noises died out into nothing. The room went still. The only things Alphonse could hear anymore was the labored breathing of the attacker and his own screams. It felt like Al had left his body, his mind thinking while his body reacted with terror. The man picked up Edward and slung him over his shoulder, which snapped Alphonse back into his armored body. 

 

“Let him go! Let him go, you monster!” Al shrieked, trying to move. 

 

“Shhh” Reinbuckle smiled, putting a finger to his lips. He approached Alphonse with lumbering steps. Al felt his fear intensify with every stride. Reinbuckle leaned down and gave him a toothy grin. “Tell your Flame Colonel to go to The Gilded Donkey. Alone. We will be waiting anxiously for him there. If he even thinks about bringing his gloves, or any backup, your brother is as good as dead.” Thomas straightened himself out and began to leave the room, Ed bouncing limply in his grasp. 

 

“You won’t get away with this!” Al cried. Reinbuckle stopped in his tracks and looked to the little brother, His smile never faltering. 

 

“I already have.” 

 

…

“Tell me where he is!” Mustang snarled, grabbing the bleeding man by the throat. He gasped and tried to peel Roy’s large hands away from his trachea. 

 

“I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!” The man gasped, trying to suck in air. Mustang dropped him heavily onto the floor, glaring at him as he coughed and sputtered. 

 

“Now!” Mustang demanded. Riza was silent, but her eyes were burning holes into the man as well. Her gun never leaving his head. 

 

“H-he didn’t tell m-me where he was going! He just said for me to sneak in here! When I asked why, he told me he was taking care of some unfinished business, I don’t know what he meant! I promise that’s all I know!” Mustang glanced at Hawkeye who nodded wordlessly, lowering her gun. The fresh stream of blood flowing from the man's wound made it nearly impossible for him to fight back, he was probably not going to make it. 

 

Mustang didn’t have time to feel remorseful. 

He turned and walked out of the warehouse, his body fueled with rage. He wanted to burn the entire building down, to burn everything down. This man had hurt his teammates, had hurt the two kids who didn’t deserve it, but always seemed to get themselves into these situations. 

 

“Sir. What's the move?” Hawkeye asked calmly, falling in step beside him. 

 

He didn’t answer, he knew he didn’t need to. Breda and the others were waiting for him outside. 

 

“Breda, you and Falman stay here. The rest of you, with me,” Mustang ordered. No one had time to question him as he sprinted to the car. Hawkeye jumped into the driver's seat with Havoc and Armstrong in the back. They had to make it on time… They had to. Mustang grabbed the radio, practically ripping it out of its holder. 

 

“Feury!” Mustang barked,

 

“Yes sir?” Feury’s voice echoed through in an instant.  

 

“Get to my house, now! Fullmetal and Alphonse might be in trouble.” 

 

“On it.” 

 

Mustang dropped the radio and began thrumming his fingers against his thigh once again. 

 

He really needed a drink after this. 

 

…

Kain Feury was not a man who was known for his strength. 

 

He wasn’t the best sharpshooter, nor the best at hand-to-hand combat. He could hardly run a mile and oftentimes failed to keep up with the rest of his team. Sometimes he felt utterly useless to the strong soldiers around him, but after joining team Mustang, he found his purpose. He felt welcomed and needed, he felt like he was an integral part of the group. 

 

Now, it was his time to shine. Mustang had just radioed him, sounding quite desperate, which was not something he did often. 

 

When Feury moved from his seat around the radios to the window of the apartment, he was shocked to see the front door wide open. 

 

He grabbed his gun and sprinted downstairs. 

 

He may not have been known for his strength, 

 

But he would always fight for his teammates. 

 

Bursting through the opened door he was first greeted with a destroyed living room. The couch was toppled over, books from the bookshelf had fallen onto the floor and the coffee table was totally destroyed. Amongst the rubble of the once wooden table, Doctor Knox was unconscious. As if he was thrown into the table and it broke upon impact. Feury was quick to kneel beside him, checking his pulse and other vitals. He breathed a sigh of relief to find he was just knocked out. 

 

“You won’t get away with this!” That was Alphonse yelling… Kain hurried to the bottom of the stairs, listening up at the crying younger brother. He cocked his gun and held it close to his face, finger resting anxiously on the trigger. As much as he wanted to sprint up the stairs and confront the attacker, he had to move slowly. Catching the man by surprise. Fuery noted that he could not hear Edward. If he was awake, he’d be screaming and cursing at the man.

 

This made him even more afraid. 

 

He inched up the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. He could hear Alphonse yelling and another voice, much softer and deeper replying. Before he knew it, he found himself at the top of the stairs. The door to the bedroom was wide open. He strained to listen to any movement within the room, but could only hear Alphonse’s hollow sobs. 

 

He steeled himself, taking a deep breath before jumping into the doorway, gun pointed. 

 

The room was empty. 

 

“Sergeant!” Alphonse called. Kain moved his head to the corner of the room, Alphonse was sitting against the wall, visibly shaking. He wasn’t sure how a hollowed set of armor could shake, but there were a lot of things about Alphonse that didn’t make sense. He looked beside him to see the window opened, curtains fluttering in the slight breeze. 

 

“Damn it!” Feury yelled, dropping his stance. He rushed over to the window and peered out, looking desperately for any sign of Edward, but the night remained still and untampered with. 

 

“F-Feury!” Alphonse cried. His voice sounded so small and frail . Feury set his gun down on the bed and knelt before Alphonse. 

 

“Don’t worry, the Colonel is on his way. We’ll get him back.” He assured him. “I need to go radio him now and check on Doctor Knox. Will you be okay here by yourself for a moment?” 

 

Alphonse gave a small nod. “I-is the doctor okay?” 

 

“He’ll be alright. Just knocked out,” Feury explained. He stood and made his way to the door. “Yell if you need anything, alright?” 

 

“Wait!” Alphonse yelled, causing Feury to stop in his tracks. 

 

“T-the Gilded Donkey. He wants Colonel Mustang to meet him at The Gilded Donkey… Alone. No gloves…” Alphonse relayed. Feury nodded solemnly and rushed out the door and downstairs. He grabbed the radio from Mustang’s kitchen.

 

“Colonel!” Feury yelled, foregoing the codenames. 

 

“What do ya got Sergeant?” Mustang replied instantly. 

 

“Edward has been taken, sir. I couldn’t get to him in time. Alphonse is safe and accounted for, but a little shaken up. Knox was hit unconscious, but does not have any visible wounds.” Feury rambled. 

 

“Understood. Stay put, we are almost there.” Mustang ordered. 

 

“Yes sir!” Feury said, putting down the radio. He moved back into the living room and began attempting to awaken the doctor by shaking him lightly. After a few moments, Knox stirred and popped open his eyes. His glasses had been knocked off at some point during the scuffle. 

 

“Shit… What happened?” Knox groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head. 

 

“Are you alright?” Kain asked, putting a hand on his back to help him sit up. 

 

“Y-yes… I’m fine…The… The boys!” He whipped his head to Feury who felt his gaze drop in an instant. Knox must have read his face. 

 

“Shit!” He cursed, rubbing a hand over his face. He grimaced as he moved himself to stand. Feury kept a hand out in case he fell. 

 

“Ugh, for an old guy he really knows how to pack a punch…” Knox sighed, rubbing a sore spot on the back of his head.

 

“The colonel will be here soon, would you like some ice?” Feury offered. Knox huffed and nodded, moving to sit at the kitchen table, which were the only chairs not totally toppled over. Feury rushed over to the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag and filling it with a generous amount of ice cubes before handing it off to the doctor.

 

“Feury? Knox? Are you here?” A familiar voice called from the front of the house. 

 

“In here, sir!” Feury yelled back. They heard a quick stomping of movement before Mustang appeared in the doorway followed by Hawkeye, Havoc and Armstrong. 

 

“Let's move upstairs. I want you to tell me everything, top to bottom. Don’t leave anything out.” Mustang barked, already heading towards the stairs. 

 

…

Knox, Feury and Alphonse all gave their recounts of the events in as best of detail as they could. Mustang noted the shake in Alphonse’s voice as he spoke. He realized quickly that it was not a tone of fear, but of anger. Alphonse Elric was pissed off and rightfully so. Thomas Reinbuckle should consider himself lucky that Alphonse couldn’t move. 

 

“How long ago did he leave, Alphonse?” Riza asked, jotting down notes of the events in a small notepad. 

 

“He jumped out the window when he heard Knox and Feury downstairs. That was about thirty minutes ago.” Al replied, 

 

“Feury, you didn’t see any vehicles or other means of transportation outside my house, correct?” Mustang prodded. 

 

“No, sir.” Feury shook his head. 

 

“Looks like i’m given no choice…” Mustang sighed, standing from his seat on the armchair. 

 

“Sir?” Riza prodded, giving him a concerned gaze. 

 

“I have to go meet him.” 

 

“You are not going alone,” Riza demanded, her lips pressed together in a tight line. 

“I have to. If I don’t, he could kill Fullmetal…” Mustang replied, scratching his head. 

 

“It could be a trap, sir.” Havoc interjected. “At least have Hawkeye on the roof of a nearby building with her rifle, she can cover you if things get dicey. Armstrong and I can linger not too far from the site as well…” 

 

“I don’t know how this lunatic got to Fullmetal or how he even knew he was here… I fear if you come, he will know about it somehow.” Mustang sighed, he felt a twinge of dissatisfaction. His plan didn’t work. It failed. He thought he covered all bases, he thought he had successfully duped the man. Yet, he was careless somewhere along the way and now Edward was thrusted into trouble once again. Just when they thought it was over, it wasn’t Just when they thought Edward and Alphonse were safe, they weren’t and it was all Mustangs fault. 

 

“I’m going alone.” He decided, ignoring the fiery stares of disapproval by his teammates. 

 

“If I may, sir,” Feury interrupted. “I have a few bugs in the apartment complex that I can attach to you, so that we may listen to everything going on in real time. If you get in trouble, the others can rush there in an instant.” 

 

Everyone stared at Feury, whose cheeks flamed red. 

 

“Feury, you are a genius.” Mustang smiled, “I am so glad to have you on my team…” 

 

“Yeah! Great thinking there Kain!” Havoc slapped his back with a laugh. 

 

“I-it was nothing…” Feury said sheepishly. 

 

“Alright. Feury, head on over and grab what you need. We are getting Fullmetal back and bringing this asshole down. No one messes with my team.” Mustang declared, everyone began moving at once. Feury and Havoc rushed across the street to grab the equipment, Armstrong tidied up the living room and situated the furniture back into place, lifting the couch with one hand (and of course, taking his shirt off somewhere in the process). He then hefted Alphonse down the stairs and placed him on the sofa. 

 

“Thank you Major Armstrong.” Alphonse said gratefully. Armstrong nodded curtly, turning back to continue nervously cleaning and organizing. Mustang  aws sitting at the kitchen table, going over notes and maps of the area. If he was going into the lions den by himself, he’d want to be prepared. Riza had retrieved a set of his gloves and forced Roy to take off his military jacket. She worked fervently beside him at the table, a small sewing kit opened in front of her. 

 

“The Hell you doin?” Knox asked, peeking over at her from his place in the kitchen. 

 

“Sewing a pair of gloves into the seam of his jacket. Hopefully he won’t need to use them, but just in case…” Hawkeye glanced up momentarily at Roy before continuing her work. 

 

“Got the equipment sir!” Feury bubbled, rushing into the living room. Havoc was carrying a large radio box. He huffed as he set it down and cracked his back. 

 

“Man, I really need a nice, long massage after all this is over.” He complained, rolling his head around in a circle. 

 

“Move upstairs, you can setup in the guest room. I’ll be there in a moment,” Mustang ordered, still glancing through the notes. Havoc groaned and reached down to grab the box once again before Armstrong swooped in and stole it right from his feet. 

 

“I got this, lieutenut! You go rest for a moment!” Armstrong declared proudly. Havoc sighed and nodded, waving Armstrong off. He dug around in his pockets for a cigarette and made his way outside. 

 

“I’ll stand guard or whatever.” Havoc said tiredly, closing the door behind him. Feury and Armstrong hurried upstairs, disappearing into the guest bedroom. 

 

Mustang turned towards the sofa, where Alphonse sat silently. The red pinpricks in his eyes were dimmed and his head was cascaded towards the floor. Roy sighed and moved to sit next to him. 

 

“We’ll find him, Alphonse.” He assured, his voice low and somber. 

 

“I know you will…” Alphonse whispered. 

“Whats on your mind?” Mustang prodded. 

 

“I could only watch as he took Ed away from me… I could only sit there and yell. Just like at the warehouse… Just like in the street… The same thing keeps happening and I can’t do anything to help him.” Alphonse quivered. Mustang sighed and tapped his fingers on his thigh, unsure exactly what to say to make the boy feel better. There was nothing he could do. Alphonse couldn’t be fixed by anyone but Edward. 

 

“I know its hard. That feeling of helplessness. That feeling of guilt. Trust me, I know it well. I can’t say anything to make it better… But I can assure you that we will find Edward and bring Reinbuckle to justice and when you are all fixed up, you’ll be the first visitor that old bastard has…” Mustang smirked deviously. “If he gets a few new shiny bruises, we’ll just say he got violent… Hm?” Alphonse chuckled slightly, the pinpricks in his eyes returning. 

 

“Thanks Colonel. For everything.” 

 

“Anytime.”

Chapter 11: A Brother's Torture

Summary:

Edward awakens...

Notes:

Holy moly. Sorry this took so long to get updated! I started my summer job and thats been taking a lot of my time! I am excited to continue, please leave me your comments! I love reading them. Now, let's see Edward suffer some more!

Chapter 13: A Brother’s Torture

 

Consciousness ebbed back into Edward like molasses. 

 

His mouth was dry and sticky. It felt as if his tongue was suffocating him as it stuck to his teeth. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t seem to pry open his stiff jaw. Semblances of reality cascaded by him. He wasn’t sure if he moved in and out of consciousness, he wasn’t sure of anything other than how annoyingly dry his mouth was. His head hung low, chin touching his chest. His hair was loose, hung around his shoulders. He breathed in as deeply as he could, which rattled his ribs and caused an involuntary low groan to escape his lips. 

 

“Ah… Y… Ake…”  A distant voice. Was he in a tunnel? They felt so far away. He felt himself slipping again, the ghostly feelings of discomfort ebbing away. 

 

That was until something freezing attacked him. 

 

He startled awake, his head thrusting backwards as he let out a gasp. The ringing in his ears switched to that of a loud roaring of dripping water. He tried to move his arm and legs, but found they were tightly bound to a chair. He almost tipped backwards in it from the sheer force of his body reacting to the sudden assault. His bangs stuck to the sides of his face and water traveled its way from his body to the floor. Blearily, he raised his head to stare in front of him. Thomas was standing before him, a large empty bucket in his hands. Ed tried to stifle his heaving breaths. His heart thundered in his chest, he was almost certain Thomas could hear its pounding from where he stood. 

 

“Finally awake, alchemist?” Thomas cooed. Edward snarled at him, hoping he didn’t look as pathetic as he felt. A bone-deep shiver ran through his spine. 

 

“F-f-fu’ y-y-you…” Ed chattered. 

 

Thomas walked up to him, dropping the bucket and grabbing Ed’s chin. He thrusted his head upwards. Ed was met with two brown orbs. He could see his own terrified reflection in the pupils.

 

“Ha! A scared little puppy. They really will let anyone into the military these days won’t they?” Thomas sneered, his hot breath puffed in Edwards face. It reeked of cigarette smoke and rotten meat. Ed stifled a gag and tried to pull his head away, which caused Thomas to grab his chin harder. 

 

“Not so tough now, are you?” Thomas released him, striding over to the other side of the room. Edward took this time to take in his surroundings. There were no windows in the small space, only a single light in the center of the room. He could see a small set of stairs on the far left side, leading him to believe they were in a basement of some kind. It was sparsely decorated. The concrete walls and floors were covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. 

 

“W-what are you going to do?” Edward asked, still shivering. 

 

“I told you already. I am going to make you suffer for what you did.” His back was turned to Edward. He was fiddling with something on a small cart, which caused Edward to be enveloped by a sense of dread. 

 

When he first joined the military, they had given him the run-down of torture. Ed recalls the discomfort he felt as Mustang and the team discussed in detail the methods different countries used to break their victims. 

 

But this was not a Drachman or a Cretan. This was an Amestrian citizen, a veteran of the Amestrian military. 

 

A crazed man who was hellbent on destroying Edward.

 

He had no idea what Thomas was about to do, and that terrified him. 

 

Thomas eventually turned around with a large, serrated knife in his hands. Edward gulped and tried to scoot away. Thomas huffed in amusement, making large, thundering steps towards him. Once reaching Edward he twisted the knife in his hands, the steel glinted in the light, his smile was cruel and would reflect off of the knife in a distorted gleam. Ed felt strange, he was so afraid that he was past the point of feeling it. He had dissociated from himself and found that he was acutely observing Thomas’ appearance. He could see the yellow of his slightly crooked teeth shining through his grin. He could see the years of wear his body had endured. Thomas’ skin was calloused and rough, littered with scars. Ed noted a particularly large one on his left arm. 

 

“Pay attention when I'm talking to you!” Ed jumped as the knife came down towards him. He flinched violently, eyes squeezing shut. Where could Thomas stab him? Maybe his other shoulder, maybe his thigh. What about his throat? Or his heart? What if he stabbed him through the gut and left him to bleed out? He shivered, the cold, wet water still dripping away from him. A puddle had formed around his feet. He felt a slight sting on his cheek and popped open his eyes. He wanted to bring his hand up to his face, but the bindings held him tightly to the chair. Small plops of blood dripped down onto Ed's lap. 

 

He had only made a small cut into Edwards cheek. 

 

Ed’s skin was so numb from the cold that he barely was able to register the pain aside from a dull sting. Thomas smiled as he looked at the pitiful expression on Edwards face. His brows were raised high, eyes wide and pupils small. 

 

 Thomas dropped the knife at Edwards feet and turned, moving to the other side of the room. The side that was shrouded in darkness, under the stairs. Edward could hear a shuffling, but couldn’t see anything. Soon, Thomas came back into the light, dragging something heavy across the floor. His back was turned to Edward as he scooted the object out. 

 

Edward immediately threw up when he saw what Thomas was dragging. Bile and water that he had swallowed poured out of his mouth and onto his chest and legs. It seeped through his clothes and stuck to his skin. The smell was nauseating, Edward wanted to look away, but found he couldn’t. 

 

Thomas dropped the object directly in front of Edward’s feet. 

 

It was the corpse of his own son, James Reinbuckle. 

 

Flies were buzzing around the body. James’s eyes were open and murky. His mouth was agape and his jaw hung limply. Edward could make out a large stab wound on the man's neck that seemed to go through to the other side of his body. Blood covered the man's shirt and arms and had crusted to his now purple skin. 

 

The smell was enough to make Ed want to vomit again. It was reminiscent of the night they tried to bring back their mother. A smell mixed of rotten meat and coppery blood that stung his nose and made his eyes water. It was a smell he often recalled in his nightmares. He dug his index finger into the splintering wood of the chair, hoping it would wake him. That he would be back in Mustang’s house and would be greeted by Alphonse’s soothing canter. 

 

But Edward wasn’t that lucky. 

 

“Take a good, long look.” Thomas sighed, kneeling down to James’ body. “You did this to him.” 

 

Edward shook his head, 

 

“It wasn’t me that killed him! Your own psychotic actions are what led to this.” 

 

Thomas stood and slapped Edward, causing his head to lurch to the side. He could taste blood in his mouth and the stinging numbness from the cut radiated off of his cheek and made him wince. Edward spit the blood out onto the floor before moving his head back to stare at Thomas, who was now fuming, wiping the blood off of his fingers and onto his dirty slacks.

 

“If you and your useless tin can of a brother would have just done what we asked, none of this would have happened! I would have had my daughter back… My son would still be alive and well!” Thomas’s voice increased in volume as he rambled. He was pacing around the room at an alarming speed, kicking up dust as he did so. He began mumbling under his breath. Edward couldn’t take his eyes off of the body in front of him. He didn’t know if his shaking was from the cold, or the fear. Probably both he assumed. 

 

Thomas stopped his pacing and turned to Edward, eyeing him like prey ready to be devoured. He ran forward, stepping over the body of his only son to grab Edwards throat. Edward sucked in a small bit of air as the wet, dirty hand clasped around him. 

 

“You… you!... you did this!” Thomas spit in Edwards face as he yelled. Ed gasped for air and thrashed back and forth. The rope dug into his wrist as he tried to wretch his arm free. He was thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. 

 

Was this it? Was he going to die in this dingy basement? All alone? 

 

Was this his final punishment for the taboo he committed? 

 

Tears pricked the sides of Ed’s eyes. He didn’t want to die yet. He had so much left to do, he had to keep his promise to Al. He often thought he wasn’t afraid of death. However, now, so close to it: he was petrified of its somber embrace. 

 

Thomas let go of his throat and backed away, stumbling. Ed sucked in a breath, coughing on the air as it entered his body. He sputtered, his chest heaving. His nose and throat burned as he tried to gulp in the sweet breaths of life. His brain had shut off, his only thoughts were focused on grasping each small molecule of oxygen. He could hear Thomas laughing and crashing things around the room. What was he doing? Edward needed to look up, to take stock of the situation and figure out a way out of here before Thomas really did kill him, however, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but breathe. 

 

“Look at me!” Thomas grabbed Edwards chin again, pulling his head up from its slouched position. Ed blinked a few times, his shivering had yet to quell and his teeth rattled together, vibrating his already pounding head. 

 

“You will bring back my son and daughter.” He demanded, the rancid odor of his breath attacking Ed’s nostrils once again. 

 

“I… Already told you… I c-can’t.” Edward chattered. 

 

“You will.” 

 

“I won’t! E-even if I wanted to, it's not possible! Are you even l-listening to me?!” Edward strained, trying to yell. However, it only came out as a small squeak. 

 

“Maybe you need some more motivation…” Thomas grumbled, swaying over to his cart. Edward twisted his arm again, ignoring the biting pain of his skin being rubbed raw. If he could just get the rope off, he’d be able to at least attempt to get out of here. He wasn’t about to just sit back and give up. 

 

Thomas came back a moment later with the serrated knife in one hand and a small blow-torch in the other. Ed gulped as Thomas silently turned on the torch and wafted it over the knife, coating it in flames. 

 

“W-what are you going to do?” Edward shook. Thomas remained silent. Edward could see the knife’s steel slowly change color as it heated up. Without warning, Thomas pressed the blade flat onto Edwards bare arm. Edward screamed as his flesh burned underneath the blade, his vision went white with blind pain as his head flew backwards. Thomas’s unhinged cackles floated through his ears as he continued to press the blade down. The smell of burnt meat mixed with that of the corpse below him. Before Edward could pass out, Thomas pulled the blade away, leaving a horrifying, long, red, burn mark. Ed’s teeth were clenched together so tightly, he felt that they’d break under the pressure. His jaw ached from the tension. 

 

“Will you do it now?” Thomas asked, unbothered. 

 

“F-fuck…. Y-you…” Edward heaved out. 

 

“I figured you’d say that. Too bad. I’d hoped that I wouldn’t have to go to plan B…” Thomas whined. “Makes things much more complicated on my part.” 

 

“Reinbuckle?! Where are you?!” A voice, deep, booming and authoritative, called from upstairs. Edward felt his heart sink into his feet. 

 

“No…” Edward exasperated.

 

“You won’t budge when your life is at stake, but maybe you will if someone else's is.” Reinbuckle said calmly, setting down the knife. “Now, I need you to be quiet for a bit while the adults chat…” Reinbuckle smiled, moving towards Edward. 

 

“No! No…! Mustang r-” Edward’s cries were cut off by Thomas tying the gag around his head once again. 

 

“I’ll only be a moment. Then the fun will begin. I told you, alchemist. I would make you suffer.” 

 

Edward felt a hot tear pour down his cheek as he helplessly watched Thomas disappear up the stairs.

Chapter 12: A Brother's Rescue

Summary:

Mustang arrives to save Edward.

Notes:

Here we go! Lets get it!

 

Chapter 14: A Brother’s Rescue

 

As Mustang entered The Gilded Donkey, his senses were attacked by a variety of unpleasantries. 

 

The smell was rancid. Rotten meat mixed with booze and blood. He stifled a gag as he moved through. 

 

The sounds were silent, much too silent for his liking. He only heard the floor creaks as he carefully stepped further into the brothel.

 

The sights were meager. The brothel, probably once a decently organized space, was completely trashed. Broken bottles littered the floor, booze staining the wood. Chairs and tables were flipped over. Some had even splintered and jutted out sharp pieces of wood. 

 

“Reinbuckle?! Where are you?!” Mustang yelled, anger bubbling in his throat. He heard a muffled sound from behind a door on the opposite wall from where he stood. The sound died out as quickly as he heard it. Mustang glanced down at his jacket, moving his arm to feel the easily breakable seam to his gloves. He glanced at the small bugs placed within his jacket. He let out a long sigh. His team was with him. Even if things went poorly, he’d be alright.

 

Edward would be alright. 

 

The door opened and Thomas Reinbuckle strode out, a smile plastered on his face. 

 

“Nice to see you Colonel.” Thomas said, standing across from him. His stance was relaxed, much too relaxed. 

 

“Where is Edward?” Mustang growled, his head lowering.

 

“My, my. You really jumping to the gun, aye?” Thomas replied.

 

“What do you want? Why are you doing all of this? He’s just a kid.” Mustang stared deeply into Thomas’s brown orbs. 

 

“Ha! Just a kid. You are the one who made him a soldier, yes? Seems like you don’t care much either about his youth… What I want is simple. I want revenge. I want my family back. That boy can fulfill both needs.” Thomas’s eyes gleamed. Mustang shuddered slightly. 

 

“You’re insane…” Roy moved his hand slightly towards the seam of his jacket. 

 

“Don’t move!” Roy froze as he heard the telltale sign of a gun cocking. Thomas had a small handgun pointed directly at him. He raised his hands up in surrender. 

 

“Put the gun down…” Mustang insisted, emphasizing the word gun so his team would hopefully hear it. 

 

“Don’t worry. I will.” Mustang felt a swish of air behind him, before he could spin around, an unknown assailant wrapped a large hand around his neck and plunged a needle into it, injecting a warm liquid into his bloodstream. 

 

“Sh-shit…” Mustang groaned, throwing the man off of him. His legs grew heavy, his eyes drooped as he swayed and thumped on the floor. 

 

“Good work. Here’s your cut.” Roy could make out the blurry figures exchanging money in front of him. Their voices slowly ebbed away, falling down a hole. He tried to keep his breaths even and pry his eyes open, but the weight kept pulling him under. 

 

“Hurry…” Mustang breathed, knowing his team was probably already on the way. 

 

“ Edward…” Mustang’s mouth squeezed out before he fell unconscious. 

 

…

“Let's move!”  Hawkeye yelled, throwing off her headset. She heard the telltale signs of a struggle and a thump on the floor, which told her enough. Roy needed their help and he needed it now. Havoc stood with her, slinging on his jacket that he had thrown off. The two moved to the corner of the room, grabbing their variety of weapons. 

 

“Here, take these…” Feury stood and handed the two a set of ear pieces. 

 

“I’ll keep listening in and update you if I hear anything else.” He stated. Hawkeye and Havoc nodded as they loaded up their guns. 

 

“I’m so sick of this shit…” Havoc heaved, grounding out his cigarette in a small ashtray. 

 

Hawkeye and Havoc hurried downstairs where Alphonse, Knox and Armstrong were quietly chatting. They stopped mid conversation as soon as they saw the pair of soldiers. 

 

“Is everything okay?” Alphonse asked nervously. 

 

“We need to move. The Colonel has been compromised.” Hawkeye said flatly, forcing her emotions down, flooding all the tension in her body to her fingers, which squeezed tightly on the barrel of her rifle. 

 

“I’ll come too.” Armstrong stood, grabbing his brass knuckles beside him. 

 

Hawkeye nodded. She glanced at Knox, then painstakingly looked at Alphonse, who was sitting with a fearful silence. She wanted to comfort him. To give him some sort of words to ease the pain of the situation, but she knew that nothing she would say would make it any better. Her fear was on the same level as Alphonse’s. How could she comfort someone when she herself was not calm? Instead she opted to give him a quick nod. A nod of empathy, a nod of understanding. It was all she could bring herself to do. 

 

“I’ll drive.” Havoc stated, fishing the keys from his pocket, Hawkeye and Armstrong nodded, moving out the door and into the night. 

 

…

Mustang awoke to the sounds of screaming. 

 

Screaming that was filled with pain, filled with a horrible anguish that sent chills up his spine. 

 

He wondered if he was back in Ishval. That his life up until now was some coma induced dream and he would awaken to carnage and dead bodies of innocent civilians. 

 

But when he opened his eyes, the sight was much different. 

 

He was tied on the floor, his hands above his head. His ankles chained together. He noted a heaviness that was set in his head, the telltale signs of a drug attempting to leave his system. He blinked away the blur, realizing he was in a basement of sorts. It was large and barren. The floor was cold beneath him. 

 

His heart sank when he saw the golden mop of hair in front of him. 

 

Everything came into focus at once as his adrenaline spiked. Thomas had his back to him, facing his youngest subordinate. Edward’s head was thrusted backwards, his voice going hoarse with screams. He couldn’t see what Thomas was doing. However, he did notice the sorry state of the small alchemist. Edward’s gunshot wounds had begun bleeding once again, leaking the red fluid onto the floor, mixing with a large puddle of water that had formed below him. He was visibly shaking, his lip quivering and blue around the edges. His fingers were also twinged blue as well. Upon further inspection, Roy saw that he was sopping wet from head to toe. 

 

“Hey! What are you doing to him?!” Mustang roared, his voice incredibly dry. Thomas stopped whatever he was doing to Edward and turned to face Roy. Edward had stopped screaming. He instead was gasping for air, his head dropping onto his chest. 

 

“Fullmetal! Hey! Answer me!” Roy tried to rouse the boy, but found he was unresponsive. 

 

Thomas smiled and walked towards him, leaning down to be level. 

 

“Welcome back! I am so glad you weren’t out for too long. We have a lot to do.” Thomas said, almost clinically. 

 

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Mustang’s voice was dark. 

 

Thomas’s smiled widened and he stood. Moving back over to Edward. Roy was able to see a large burn mark on Edward’s bare arm, it was highly aggravated, oozing around the edges. He also saw a tangle of wires coming from Edward’s automail leg. That explained his screaming. Thomas was messing directly with his automail.

 

Roy didn’t understand much about automail, but he knew that to mess with it, especially the wires, was bad. Edward’s mechanic had given him the rundown on how to care for Edward’s automail just in case. From what he understood, the wires acted as his nerves. To mess with them was like directly attacking his central nervous system. Roy felt sick to his stomach knowing how much pain Edward was in. He pulled on the chains holding him up, trying to wriggle his way free. Thomas grabbed Edwards chin and thrusted it upwards, forcing his glassy eyes to look directly at Mustang. Roy saw an emotion in those eyes that he had only seen on a few occasions. Fear. 

 

“Look! Your favorite superior officer is finally awake.” Thomas said in a mocking tone. 

 

“Let go of him!” Mustang yelled, pulling harder on the chains. 

 

“Remember what I told you, Edward? That I'd make you suffer?” Thomas tapped the side of Edward’s cheek with his dirty finger. 

 

“Please…” Edward shook. 

 

“Make sure you watch!” Thomas laughed, moving away from the boy. Mustang saw Edward’s pleading look boring into his soul. Thomas grabbed a large knife and moved towards Mustang with a shine in his iris. 

 

“Please… Stop!” Edward cried, tears pricking his eyes. 

Mustang tried to back away, his head thunking against the wall. Thomas approached slowly, the knife twisting around in his fist. Before Mustang could do as much as gasp, the knife was plunged into his left shoulder. A cry escaped his lips as he felt the sting of muscle and fat being broken. Thomas released the knife, allowing it to stick out of Mustang. He was thankful that Reinbuckle didn’t yank it out, as it was currently acting as a plug to the wound. 

 

“Stop it!” Edward yelled again, his voice breaking. 

 

“Bring them back to life and I will.” Thomas said, moving back to his cart to fetch another tool. 

 

“I can’t do it! How many times am I going to have to say it?!” Edward sobbed. 

 

“Fullmetal. It’s alright…” Roy huffed, trying to force his voice to sound strong. 

 

“Shut the hell up, bastard! None of this is alright!” Edward snapped. Roy could see him tugging at the rope around his arm, fresh blood was dripping from his hand. 

 

“Let's see… Would you rather have a tooth pulled or a fingernail torn off? I’m nice enough to give you the choice.” Thomas asked, his eyes focused on the cart. 

 

“Go to Hell.” Mustang replied shortly. 

 

“Well, I guess I'll just have to do both.” Thomas grabbed a large set of pliers from his table and meandered his way back towards Mustang. This man worked in the strategics department. He was a key member in many undercover operations. It didn’t surprise Roy that he was accustomed to torture. 

 

“Don’t take another step towards him!” Edward demanded. Thomas let out a chuckle, turning lazily to the boy. 

 

“Or what?” 

 

Edward wriggled forward and tipped his chair on the side. His body fell hard onto the concrete, which caused a small whimper to escape his lips. 

 

“Fullmetal!” Mustang called out. 

 

“How pathetic.” Thomas laughed, moving away from Mustang and back towards Edward. “How are you supposed to watch while on the floor like that?” He reached down to pick up the chair.

 

A flash of blue light. 

 

A scream.

 

A crack.

Then silence. 

 

Mustang could hardly see what happened as a storm of dust and debris sprang up from the area, he coughed as he inhaled some of the vile substance.

 

“Fullmetal! Where are you?!” Mustang yelled, his voice choking. 

 

There was no response. 

As the panic rose, the dust settled and Roy was able to make out what had just happened. 

 

A large amount of concrete had warped from the floor and shot up, pinning Reinbuckle to the ceiling. He was limp, blood pouring from his mouth. If Roy couldn’t hear the labored breaths coming from the man, he would have sworn he was dead. 

 

His eyes next trailed down the concrete and to the young boy, still lying prone on the ground, eyes closed. He was shivering intensely. He had landed in the bloody puddle of water. 

 

“Fullmetal!” Mustang cried, pulling against the chains even harder, which caused an involuntary yelp as the knife shifted inside of his shoulder. 

 

He could hear a clatter upstairs. 

 

“Sir?! Where are you?!” 

 

Hawkeye.

 

“D-down here!” Mustang strained. 

 

His team was there. 

 

They were saved. 

 

…

“D-down here!” Riza heard a familiar, pained voice from below her. She hurried towards the back door, retching it open. Armstrong and Havoc were hot on her heels, moving down the stairs. The three abruptly stopped as they came across the scene. 

 

Thomas Reinbuckle was pinned to the ceiling by a large slab of concrete. 

 

Edward was lying on his side, tied to an old, wooden chair, unmoving.

 

Mustang was on the opposite wall, chained. A knife hilt sticking out of his shoulder. 

 

Everything moved very quickly after that. 

 

Riza rushed over to Roy, trying to undo the chains, her heart was pounding in her chest and sweat began to pour from her brow. 

 

“Fullmetal. Go to him first…” Roy pleaded, his onyx eyes furrowed with pain and worry. 

 

“Havoc’s got him, sir,” She said. 

“Go help him,” Mustang demanded.

 

“I got this lieutenant!” Armstrong approached, slamming his gauntlets together and breaking the chains with one swoop. Mustang’s arms dropped heavily to his sides as he slumped against the wall. He tried to force himself to stand, but was pushed back on his good shoulder by Hawkeye. 

 

“Careful, don’t move around too much.” She implored, smiling at him. “Edward is going to be fine,” She had seen this look in his eyes many times before, especially recently. When it came to the Elric brothers, Mustang was soft. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had a special place in his heart for the two boys. However, she had the same place in her own heart as well. The boys had a tendency to wiggle their way into everyone’s. 

 

“Havoc… How is he?” Mustang asked, finally seeming to relax. 

 

“He’s been better…” Havoc mentioned quietly. He had undid the restraints on Edward and wrapped his jacket around him, pulling him into his arms. 

“Seems he used his own blood as a transmutation circle.” Armstrong mentioned, looking at the scene. 

 

“Jesus…” Havoc sighed, brushing the boy's bangs out of his face. 

 

“We’ve called an ambulance. They’ll be here soon.” Hawkeye mentioned, already knowing what was on Mustang’s mind. “Can you stand?” Mustang nodded and began to push himself upwards. Riza was quick to help him up and supported most of his weight with her own. His legs still felt weak from the drug and his shoulder was creating quite the fuss. 

 

“Military police should also be here soon. They’ll take it from here.” Havoc said, standing with Edward cradled in his arms. 

 

“It’s finally over…” Armstrong sighed, his eyes locking on Edward. 

 

“I sure as hell hope so…” Mustang huffed, feeling relieved for the first time since the incident.

Notes:

I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be. However, I definitely want to focus now on the comfort aspect of hurt/comfort. We've seen them suffer enough! It's time for some damn healing!

Chapter 13: A Brother's Wounds

Summary:

Edward and Mustang are rushed to the hospital.

Notes:

I wanted to make the chapter longer, but also didn't want to keep anyone waiting for more content, so I opted for a shorter one! Hopefully it ended on a note that made sense!

My last week of my summer job is finally upon us! So should have plenty of more time to write.

Next time: more comfort, more hurt, more emotions, more mama hawk and papa flame.

Chapter 13: A Brother’s Wounds

 

Edward was in bad shape. 

 

Roy knew that just by looking at him. He didn’t awaken when Havoc fervently tried to shake him. He didn’t wake up when the paramedics arrived. He didn’t wake up when he was loaded into the back of the ambulance. 

 

He just kept shivering

 

And shivering.

 

And shivering…

 

Roy protested being loaded up into the second ambulance, wanting to stay by the young boy’s side. However, Hawkeye was quick to intervene and force him into the large vehicle. Havoc went with Edward while Armstrong stayed to assist the military police. Breda and Falman were also apparently meeting him there as well. He wasn’t sure if that was right. Riza was speaking to him, but the cacophony of his worry was overlapping against her words. 

 

The medics in the ambulance quickly gave him a painkiller, but didn’t touch the knife quite yet. He groaned as they mentioned surgery to get it out safely. 

 

Damn that bastard! 

 

The rest of the ride was uneventful and moved painfully slow. Roy’s thoughts moved like molasses through his subconscious. 

 

When they arrived at the hospital, Roy was quickly wheeled into the emergency room, despite his insistence that he could walk just fine. It seems that the medics had opted to tune him out, which left him grumbling in annoyance. 

 

He was wheeled into a room and was greeted by an old doctor who looked ten years too old to still be working. His voice was flat and dull. He was thankful Riza was answering for him, he couldn’t find himself able to make any sense of the man's words. He blamed it on the drug still pumping in his veins. 

 

He barely felt his coat and shirt being cut away. 

He barely realized the cold sensation around his shoulder.

 

He then registered Riza, gripping his hand.

 

Why the hell was she doing that?

 

“This will only hurt for a moment,” he heard the doctor say.

 

Then the pain began. Roy gasped and clenched his teeth as he plummeted back to awareness. He looked over to see the doctor injecting him with a large needle. The area grew cold with fluid, then blistering hot before dulling to nothing. He slowly released his ice-like grip on Riza and let out a few shaky breaths to steady himself. 

 

“Worst part is over. Let’s get this knife out, aye?” The doctor smiled. 

 

“Back with us, sir?” Riza asked kindly. He noticed her golden hair was falling out of its signature bun. A few of the strands fell and framed her face in a gentle, rounded way. In other circumstances, he would maybe compliment her on it.

 

But his mind was on other things. 

 

“Edward?” He asked, his voice hoarse. 

 

“Him and Havoc arrived just before you did. They’ve taken him back to surgery,” She explained, moving a cup of water up to his lips. He wasn’t even sure where she got it, but it didn’t matter. He gulped it down greedily, allowing the cool liquid to coat his throat. 

 

“He’s going to be okay. He has to be okay… Right?” Roy’s voice wavered on unassurance. He didn’t care how pathetic he sounded. 

 

“Edward is strong. He’s pulled through worse.” Riza smiled, her voice also quivering ever so slightly. 

 

“All done!” The doctor chimed. Roy quickly turned his head back to his injured shoulder to see it wrapped up in thick gauze. 

 

“Already?!” Roy asked, dumbfounded. 

 

“The powers of numbing medicine are truly remarkable…” He said longingly, moving to put his arm in a sling. “Was a nasty wound, but thankfully it struck the fleshy part of your shoulder and didn’t harm much of anything. You may need some physical therapy to repair the severed muscles, but I expect a full recovery.” He explained happily, securing the sling around Roy’s neck.

 

“Thank you doctor,” Riza replied for him. Mustang gave her a look of gratitude before nodding to the doctor in affirmation. 

 

“We’ll need to admit you for about a day to monitor for infection. I’ll prepare a room for you.” The doctor explained, turning to leave. 

 

“Excuse me, doctor,” Riza asked, stopping the man from leaving. He turned to her,

 

“If possible, please place Colonel Roy Mustang and Major Edward Elric within the same room together. They were both just involved in a rather delicate matter and it will be easier to stand guard if they are together.” 

 

Mustang could kiss her.

 

“I’ll see what I can do.” The doctor said with a wink before moving out of the room. Everything grew silent once again, but the room was far from quiet.

 

Both Riza and Roy couldn’t stop thinking about the small boy they swore to protect. 

 

…

A few hours went by. Mustang was settled in his new double room, thanks to Hawkeye’s quick thinking. However, the other half of the room remained empty. Edward was still in intensive care and none of them knew if he was even alive. Havoc was sitting on the open windowsill, puffing a long drag of smoke out into the air. Armstrong had left the investigation once Breda and Falman arrived in order to retrieve Alphonse from the house. Knox and Feury stayed behind, not wanting to get in the way. 

 

The sounds of quiet shuffling were all that indicated life was in the crowded room. 

 

They all jumped when a knock came at the door. 

 

The doctor from Edwards first admittance had slid it open, a tired smile on his face. Everyone’s hearts stopped, their heads turning to lock onto the small military doctor. 

 

“I must say, I've never met anyone so tough.” The room melted at his words. 

 

“How is he?” Mustang asked urgently. 

 

“As well as he can be for someone with his list of injuries.” The doctor began, he flipped through a small chart in his hands. “Let's see… On top of his previous injuries, he’s now tacked on a large burn wound to his forearm, a few more cuts and scrapes, and a large hand-shaped bruise around his neck… None of those however compared to the hypothermia that was setting in. We’ve been spending the last few hours just trying to get his body temperature up to semi-normal. I have him started on some antibiotics to combat any pneumonia that is inevitably trying to form. He’ll be on oxygen for a few days as well to help with his breathing.” The doctor rambled. Mustang could hear Alphonse’s armor stiffen as the doctor explained. 

 

“His automail?” Mustang asked, painfully remembering the splay of wires coming from the boy's leg. 

 

“We’ve removed it. The damage is not irreparable, but will cause him a great deal of pain if left attached. I assume his mechanic will be called to fix his arm anyways? If not, our automail specialist can come look at it.” The doctor asked, tilting his head towards Mustang. Mustang swiveled to glance at Alphonse. 

 

“U-um… I’m not sure what Ed will want to do… We should wait for him to decide.”  Alphonse said. Mustang understood where Alphonse was coming from. Edward always put on a tough front, but especially did so for a few select people. Winry and Alphonse were at the top of that list. He had let them see him broken so many times, but still tried his best to hide all of the pain from them. If they called Winry without his knowledge…

 

Well, it would probably do more harm than good.

 

Mustang nodded and turned back to the doctor.

 

“Understood. We will keep his leg secure until then.” The doc said, once again plastering his smile across his face. 

 

“When will we see him?” Alphonse jumped in. 

 

“We will wheel him down after this first round of antibiotics. I will ask that only a few of you remain in the room at any given time. His immune system is shot and we want as little exposure as possible. I do understand that the nature of your mission was… Sensitive, so I'll be lenient for now.” 

 

Mustang thanked the doctor and watched as he bowed out of the room. Everyone let out a collective sigh. 

 

“Damn. Poor kid.” Havoc mumbled, shoving his cigarettes in his pocket. 

 

“Alphonse. Are you alright?” Hawkeye prodded, glancing at the armored boy. 

 

“I…” Alphonse trailed off, as if he was going to instinctively say ‘i’m fine’, but couldn’t bring himself to lie. “Is it really all over?” 

 

Mustang felt like his insides had been scooped out and left completely hollow. The past few days were nothing but pain and suffering for the Elric brothers. False senses of security plagued them from all sides, no wonder it was hard to believe that everything was truly safe. He didn’t quite know what to say. Was it safe? Was everything truly over? 

 

“No need to fear, young Alphonse!” Armstrong jumped in with a fake cheer in his voice, “I saw to it personally that Reinbuckle was taken directly to the prison! He won’t be bothering you or young Edward any longer.” Alphonse seemed to relax slightly at that sentiment. It still puzzled Roy how a suit of armor could be stiff or relaxed, or how he could emote so vividly. Alphonse was easier to read than his brother sometimes, and that was saying something. 

 

“W-what about the people Reinbuckle hired?” Alphonse asked. 

 

“Ah! Lieutenant Breda already has that covered. It seems that those scoundrels were nothing more than poor street gang members looking to make some quick cenz.” Armstrong replied with a smile. 

 

“So… It’s really over…?” Alphonse asked again, still unsure. He was staring directly at Mustang. Roy was puzzled as to why Alphonse trusted his words so much, why he was able to quell the swirling thoughts within the boy's head with just a meager few words. 

 

However, if it would bring him comfort, he’d say whatever he needed to, as many times as possible. 

 

“It’s over, Alphonse. You both are safe now.” 

 

But still a long road of recovery… 

…

Edward was wheeled into the room a mere hour later. His bed was elevated slightly to try and minimize the amount of gunk settling in his chest. Once he arrived, everyone other than Hawkeye, Mustang and Alphonse left. The nurses seemed concerned to have a large, broken, scuffed up seven foot suit of armor within the room, but Mustang supposed that the doctor had given them the rundown. They only took a few uncertain glances towards the boy, but spared them of any dispute. 

 

Saying that Edward looked terrible was an understatement. 

 

Roy thought that he had seen Edward at his worst, broken and incapacitated. Crying with grief over Nina, coming to terms with Hughes’ death… 

 

But this was something that topped all of those moments. 

 

The hospital garb was much too big on the boy, as the military hospital didn’t carry pediatric sizes. His cheeks were sunken and his under eyes were dark. He was covered in a plethora of bandages, like a broken vase that you just refuse to get rid of so you keep gluing the pieces back together. His arm was wrapped tightly, hiding the unsightly burn. It wrapped all the way down and around his hand. Roy could also see a tight swathe of bandages around his torso that peeked from the too-big hospital shirt. His automail port was an empty void of once perfect machinery. It was unsettling to look at and he could make out the obvious missing leg under the thick blanket surrounding his entire body. 

 

Edward’s hair was down, tangled around his shoulders. It seemed they had cleaned the blood, sweat and dirt from it, though.  Roy dully wondered how long it had been since the boy properly bathed, or had done anything to care for himself. Despite how awful he looked, his drug induced sleep was calm, almost peaceful despite the circumstances. He could see the small puffs of air on the tiny oxygen mask as Edward breathed, rhythmic and steady. 

 

Somehow that brought Roy comfort. 

 

Riza’s eyes were locked onto Edward as well. She moved silently, with the stealth of a true soldier and moved a small chair over to his bedside. She settled in it with care and began slowly untangling the knots in his thick, golden locks with her fingers. She moved methodically with an elegance that only she could do. Roy knew that Hawkeye was doing this for Edward as much as she was doing it for herself. 

 

Alphonse too, locked in to his brother, remained stoic. 

 

Roy hated seeing Al so incapacitated. 

 

…

Ed first awoke with a groan. 

 

A low groan, quiet and pained. Riza had froze, her fingers still ensnared within the boy's locks. She slowly pulled her hand away, hovering it over the alchemist. 

 

He groaned again, obviously in great discomfort. 

 

“I’ll go fetch his doctor,” Roy volunteered, jumping out of the bed. He slipped on the hospital issued slippers and shuffled towards the door with haste.

 

“Agh!” Roy whined, as his slinged arm banged against the doorframe. He huffed and left the room. 

 

Riza let out a long sigh and turned back to Edward, who was now shifting around, as if trying to wake himself. Riza put a hand on his forehead, feeling the lingering of a fever. 

“Brother?” Alphonse said with the softness of a mewling kitten. 

 

Edward’s breaths hitched, then increased in speed. His brows furrowed. He reached up, clawing at the oxygen mask encompassing his face. Riza hurried to the other side of the bed, gently grabbing his hand and moving it away. 

 

“Edward. It's alright. You need to keep that on,” she said as gently as possible. 

 

Ed let out another whimper. His mouth moved and he mumbled incoherently. 

 

“It’s alright. Breathe. The doctor will be here soon.” Hawkeye reassured, holding his limp hand with a careful grip. 

 

“Brother? Are you in pain?” Alphonse asked, trying to move his head to see him, as Riza was now blocking his view. 

 

The room door opened again, Edwards doctor briskly entering. Roy trailed behind, a sense of urgency and worry written into the lines of his face. The doctor moved to Edward’s side and began examining him. Placing a clinical hand on his forehead and listening to his heartbeat. All the while, Riza kept clutching onto the small hand. It troubled her that Edward wasn’t holding it back. Roy was hovering above the doctor, catching glimpses of his subordinate, silently watching the doctor work. 

 

The doctor quickly finished the examination and moved towards the I.V. Riza moved aside for him to adjust the dosage of painkillers moving into Edwards system. 

 

“Well?” Mustang asked more incessantly than he meant to be. 

 

“Fever still hasn’t broken but that’s to be expected. I’ve increased the dose of painkillers to help him sleep for a while longer. However, i’ll want him to wake up soon and try to start coughing the mucus in his chest up. I’ll stop back by in an hour,” the doctor said, moving out of the room. “You get some rest too, Colonel.” He winked before closing the sliding door behind him. Roy crossed over and moved the small hospital chair over towards Hawkeye so that she could sit and continue to hold Edwards hand. She glanced at him with warm eyes as thanks before turning her full attention back to Edward, who had settled back into sleep. 

 

“Is he asleep again?” Al asked. 

 

“Seems like it.” Hawkeye whispered. Roy headed back to his own bed, opting to sit on the side of it. 

 

He was in desperate need of some coffee. 

 

A small knock at the door jolted everyone in the room. 

 

“Come in,” Roy finally said after a pregnant pause. 

 

The thin door slid open, revealing a smiling Fuhrer Bradley.

Chapter 14: A Brother's Weakness

Summary:

Fuhrer Bradley stop by the hospital, Edward and Roy continue recovery.

Notes:

Short chapter! Sorry about that! I thought it was a good stopping point and I didn't want to make you wait any longer for chapters!

Some emotional hurt/comfort coming your way!

TW: Some graphic depictions of coughing... Kinda vomiting? Not really. Putting it just in case.

DONT WORRY. WINRY IS COMING SOON!

 

Chapter 14: A Brother’s Weakness

 

“ Fuhrer Bradley?!” Roy said in shock. Hawkeye stood, immediately saluting the man. Mustang shook from his shock and moved to stand as well. Bradley put a hand up, causing Roy to freeze mid-stand. 

 

“No need for formalities. I am here on a personal visit.” He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. Roy settled back down on the bed. Hawkeye remained standing, her eyes following the leader of Amestris as he moved further into the room. 

 

“I hear Fullmetal should make a full recovery.” He said with a false smile. 

 

“Y-yes sir.” Mustang answered. 

 

“I am relieved. I expect a full report from you in the coming days, Colonel,” Bradley stated.

 

“Of course sir.” Mustang replied, allowing professionalism to finally break through. 

 

“I want your report brought directly to me. No one else.” Bradley’s eye opened, staring at Mustang with an intensity that filled the room. 

 

“Yes, sir.” 

 

“Everything else will be left to my team to finish up. I am giving both you and Fullmetal two months of medical leave effective immediately.” Bradley said, his smile curling back up on his lips. 

 

“T-two months, sir? Fullmetal will need that time but with all due respect, I won’t need that much to-” 

 

“Take the time off. Make sure that both the Elric brothers are resting and recovering.” Bradley interrupted, placing a hand up.

 

“Yes sir…” Mustang trailed off, annoyance pulsing behind his eyes. He was not looking forward to being on babysitting duty for two months straight.

 

“Wonderful. Now, I really must be going. Give Fullmetal my regards,” he pointed his gaze towards Alphonse, who was silently staring at him. “You take care of yourself as well. You and your brother are precious resources to the country.” 

 

“O-oh… Right. Thank you, sir.” Alphonse stuttered. 

 

With a poised turn of his heel, Bradley made his exit. Everyone seemed to let out a collective breath as he shut the door. 

 

“So much for a personal visit.” Mustang grumbled, moving to lay back down on the bed. The whole interaction with the Fuhrer left him drained. 

 

“Get some rest sir. I’ll watch over Edward,” Riza said, sitting back in her chair. Roy noted how her shoulders were held tensely and her jaw was clenched. She took some deep breaths, pulling Edwards hand back into her own. It seemed to quell her tension, Roy was relieved to see her eventually relax back into a quiet peace. 

 

He found his own eyes growing heavy, the painkillers and excitement finally pulling everything out of him. He sagged into the way too soft pillow and allowed himself to drift. 

 

…

A hand was on his shoulder. His flesh and bone shoulder. That much he could register as he was pulled from the icy grips of unconsciousness. 

 

He tried to ignore the hand gently shaking him and plunder back into sleep but sounds began to echo into his ears. Gentle voices, barely above a whisper. The mask covering his face was lifted, halting the forceful cool air that was being inhaled into his lungs. 

 

The air outside of the mask tasted heavy. Like chemicals and sickness.

 

Pain emanated from every part of his body. His ribs, his head, his arm, his shoulder, his thigh. Even his ports were on fire, shooting needles down limbs that no longer existed in this realm. 

 

“Edward… Can you open your eyes for me?” 

 

“Major Elric, we need you to wake up.” 

 

“Brother…” 

 

Ed managed to slowly flutter his eyes open at the hollow sound of his younger brother's voice. The precious lifeline. He gripped onto it so tightly that it forced him back into awareness. He pushed himself up as best he could, but was gently pushed back down onto the pillows. 

 

“Don’t get up yet.” Hawkeye was there. She was one of the people speaking to him. 

 

“A-” Edward tried to call out to his brother, but his throat was dry and gasping for air. His chest tightened as a cough rose. He smothered it and attempted to swallow it back down. 

 

“You need to cough. Lean over a bit.” The voice of a male doctor had said, grabbing him around the shoulders and pushing him to be slightly leaning over. Ed wanted to protest, shake the man off and demand to see Alphonse, but his entire body was far too heavy to move on its own. Even his blinks seemed to take much longer than they should. 

 

In the new position, Edward could no longer hold in his coughs. They came out in strained heaves, burning his chest and throat with every hack. His ribs screeched as his lungs struggled to breathe in between every fit. He felt something bubble in his chest and rise painfully into his throat. He continued to cough, unable to stop, gasping for air every few seconds. A hand was on his back, lightly patting. He wasn’t sure it was helping much, but he didn’t care. 

 

A bin was placed under his mouth just before he spit up whatever was lurking in his chest. His vision by this point was far too blurry to even see what it was, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. With the obstruction cleared, Ed sagged back into the bed with a thud, squeezing his eyes shut. He shivered, despite being drenched in his own sweat. It had made the hospital garb and his hair stick uncomfortably to his skin. His breathing was strained, but much clearer now.  

 

“You did good, Fullmetal.” 

 

No way. 

 

No way was that bastard here.

 

Ed forced himself into a somewhat composure, cracking an eye open to glare at a blurred version of Mustang. He didn’t hold it long before shutting his eyes again and sagging further into the bed. He was annoyed it was propped up. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on his side, the blanket hugging around his body, much like he did when he was a kid. He was satisfied, however, after a large blanket was draped around him. 

 

Someone put a straw up to his lips, Ed opened his eye once again to see a blurry Hawkeye holding a clear cup filled with what he assumed was water. He smacked his dry lips together and graciously gulped down the liquid. More coughs threatened to crawl up and force him to repel the water back out, but he managed to swallow them down. He laid his head back when the cup was empty, feeling incredibly tired. 

 

He pulled his head away instinctively when they tried to fasten the mask back around his face. 

 

“You need this.” The doctor's voice. 

 

“Quit being a stubborn brat,” bastard's voice. 

 

“Brother, it’s okay. It’ll help you.” Alphonse’s voice. 

 

He relented and rolled his head to the side while they put the contraption back on his face. The sweet smelling air filtered through again. He would never admit it, but it was wonderful . Breathing in pure, filtered oxygen. Giving his strained lungs a break. 

 

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Get some rest, kid.” The doctor said, 

 

“Not a kid…” Edward groaned, his voice sounding hoarse as it bounced off of the mask. 

 

“Go to sleep, shorty.” Mustang nagged.

 

Edward hated that he listened to him. 

 

…

The doctor came back four more times throughout the night to force Edward to cough. Each time, Roy was startled awake from how violently the boy heaved. His face would be red with strain, and by the end of the fit he was wheezing and gasping for air. After each attack was done, Edward would crash back into sleep almost immediately. The doctor had lowered his painkillers to make it easier to wake him, which left Edward whimpering in his fitful slumber.

 

Roy had ordered Riza to go get some sleep, stating that he was fine to watch over Fullmetal for the time being. She was hesitant, but eventually relented. Her obvious exhaustion winning out. 

 

Time passed by slowly. Mustang took this time to casually talk to Alphonse, it had been days since he was able to have any sort of normal conversation with anyone. They discussed different theories and transmutation circles. Alphonse rambled about their recent travels, and Roy made a mental note not to ever piss off who Alphonse dubbed as teacher. It was nice. It felt normal . 

 

“Colonel, I have something to ask of you…” Alphonse’s voice was small and shy.

 

“What is it?” 

 

“I’m… Afraid. Brother is going to want to go straight back to the dorms as soon as they’ll allow him out of here. I know that the bad guys were caught and everything… But…” Al sighed, not wanting to admit it. Roy understood, however. The two boys went through an incredibly traumatic event. It's no wonder that Al would be uneasy being alone so soon. Especially with Edward in for a long recovery. 

 

“Would you like to come stay with me again? Until shorty here is back on his feet?” Roy offered. 

 

“I don’t want to impose…” Al squeaked, craning his neck to look over at Edwards still form.

 

“Well the Fuhrer did basically put me on Fullmetal babysitting duty for the next eight weeks. It would be easier to watch him if he were in the same place as me.” Roy snorted, trying to lighten the mood. 

 

“Haha… Brother can be a handful. Especially when he isn’t feeling well.” Al chuckled. 

 

“He’s a handful even when he isn’t injured,” Roy teased. 

 

“This is true. He always pushes himself too far and ends up making his recovery much longer than it needed to be,” Al added in. 

 

“I am not getting put on medical leave for any longer than I have to. I’ll tie him to the bed if it means he will stay still.” Roy promised, shooting a playful glare at the teen. 

“But really Colonel… Thank you. From both of us.” Al said, barely above a whisper. 

 

“Anytime.”

Chapter 15: A Brother's Awakening

Summary:

Edward wakes up in the hospital after a few days of sleep.

Notes:

I really like the softness of this chapter. Winry makes her appearance in the next one!

Chapter 15: A Brother’s Awakening 

 

Edward had felt this way once before. 

 

The feeling of time passing in blurred images and sounds. Memories of brief instances that would jump around in jumbles. Everything moved slowly, but quickly at the same time. He would flicker in and out like a dying lightbulb, flashes of faces, shapes and colors. Ghostly sensations of touch and discomfort. Echoing cacophonies of sound. It all floated by him as he sat and observed, disconnected from it all. He didn’t know what was real or what was a dream, what was day or night. Nothing made sense. His brain would try to connect the dots of his surroundings, only to plunder into nothingness before resurfacing briefly once again to capture more useless information. 

 

The last time this strange passage of time occurred, he was fresh out of automail surgery. Delirious with fever and souped up on pain medications. Winry told him later that he was like that for five days straight. 

 

That's how it had been for him this time. Brief instances of clarity. He remembers coughing until he threw up. He remembers soft voices both female and male. He recalls water brought to his lips, but that was about it. 

 

Slowly, the pieces put themselves together. The flickering would occur less often, the echoey voices would hold some sort of meaning and his thoughts would clear from the muck they were before. 

 

It was dark in the room when he had finally fully awoken. Silent and still, like a snapshot. Edward dully wondered if this was some sort of dream. He turned his head to the side, ignoring a pang of nausea that flip-flopped around him. Slowly, the room came into focus. The white walls, the pristine tile floors… 

 

Hospital… Right…

 

A quiet snore came from the foot of his bed. Edward reluctantly lifted his head to see the culprit. 

 

Colonel Mustang was slumped over the bed, his arms entangled in front of him, supporting his head. The usually decently kept black hair was now more akin to that of a scruffy dog. He wasn’t in his usual military blues, which was an odd sight for Ed to see. He wore a simple white button-up and black slacks. Another loud snore emanated from the man, causing Edward to roll his eyes. 

 

“Don’t you dare drool on me.” Ed said, his voice strained. 

 

Mustang jumped awake, choking on his own spit. He sputtered and coughed, leaning back in his chair. 

“Full *cough* metal! Don’t *cough* scare me like that!” Mustang said with annoyance. He cleared his throat a few times before turning his full attention to the blonde. 

 

“You feeling okay? In any pain?” There was that tone of voice again. That tone that Edward could have sworn was a result of his concussion. Concern. Genuine concern. 

 

He thought he could only get that from Alphonse and Winry anymore. 

 

“I’m fine.” Ed lied. In reality his ports burned, his head swam and he desperately wanted to drink the entirety of the Resembool River. But he wasn’t about to admit that. It seemed however, Mustang was seeing right through him. He quirked an eyebrow up at him before sighing and running a hand over his face. 

 

“How long was I out of it?” Ed asked.

 

“About three full days.” Mustang replied, his voice grating from sleep. “You developed Pneumonia from the water Reinbuckle doused you in.” He explained, anger gently lacing in his voice. 

 

“I see… Wait…!” Ed  sat up, suddenly remembering the entire ordeal in the basement. Mustang was hurt, stabbed right through the shoulder by that madman. Ed remembers hastily creating a transmutation circle with his blood, but after that it was a blur. Had he… No he couldn’t have… Ed felt panic swell in his chest. 

 

“Fullmetal? Are you alright?” Mustang moved to be closer to Ed, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“D-did I… Did I kill him?” Ed shivered. Mustang leaned back in his chair, taking his hand away from the teens flesh shoulder. 

“No. You didn’t, just knocked him out. He is in custody now.” Mustang explained calmly. 

 

Ed felt the panic flood out of him in a large sigh, relief replacing it. He glanced around the room, finding it empty except for him and the colonel. 

 

“Where’s Al?” 

 

“He’s with Hawkeye at my home. We thought he needed a change of scenery,” Mustang explained. 

 

Ed sunk back into the pillows, feeling his eyes droop slightly. “Is he doing okay?” 

 

“Hm?” The Colonel fixed his eyes on the boy. 

“Al. Is he doing okay? I… I know he was worried. It's because of me he can't move right now…” Ed said sadly, casting his eyes down. He saw the obvious missing limbs from under the blankets. 

 

“He’ll be alright. You just need to worry about getting better right now.” Mustang said, his voice wavering slightly, as if he was uncomfortable. “Are you doing okay?” 

 

Ed was taken aback slightly. Mustang was asking how he was doing? Why did he care about how he felt? Why was he being so nice to him? Ed felt as if he didn’t deserve this kindness, he didn’t deserve this care. He was the one who let Alphonse get taken, he was the one who was stupid enough to let himself get hurt. He wasn’t sharp enough, wasn’t quick enough and now he was paying the price. He deserved it. He deserved to feel this pain. At least he could feel pain… 

 

“Fullmetal?” Mustang asked again, those eyes knitting in concern once again. Edward wanted to slap that concerned look right off of his face. Ed simply nodded once, swallowing down a lump. 

 

“I’m fine.” He grounded out. 

 

“Right…” Ed was thankful that Mustang didn’t pry further. 

 

“Your shoulder…” Ed recalled, images of the knife sticking out of him replaying in his mind. 

 

“It’s alright. Didn’t hit anything important. Gonna be sore for a while, but that's about it.” Mustang reassured, rolling his shoulder around in a circle. Ed nodded, deciding to ignore the small wince that played on the colonel's face as he moved. 

 

“They took my leg off too?” Ed patted the empty spot under the blanket. 

 

“It was pretty damaged. It was best for them to take it off until it gets fixed,” Mustang sighed. 

 

“I need to call Winry. The longer I'm stuck here in this hospital bed, the longer Alphonse is unable to move.” Ed willed himself upwards again, moving to get out of the bed, Mustang put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. 

 

“And what do you think you are doing?” Mustang quipped, his voice back to the normal nagging sensation that Edward was used to. 

 

“I just told you, bastard . ” Ed grumbled. 

 

“And how do you suggest walking to the phones without a leg?” He said, eyes pointing down to the missing limb. 

 

Ed huffed, his cheeks flushing red. “I would have figured it out,” He finally said, spit catching in his throat. He failed holding back the wet cough that sprung from his chest. He gasped a bit, trying to regain control over his spasming muscles. Mustang helped him sit up and leaned him over, supporting the weakened boy with a steady arm. It was… comforting. With his other hand, he slapped Eds back in a steady beat, helping him hack up whatever was trying to come up in his airways. After what felt like forever, he finally was able to swallow down the offending substance. He knew he probably should have spit it up, but that was a problem for future him to deal with. For now, he just wanted out of this awkward situation. Mustang released him, keeping a hand hovering over his back in case the coughs ramped up again. Mustang helped Ed to lay back down, staring at him for a while. Ed pulsed with annoyance. What did Colonel Bastard think? He would shatter into a million pieces if he took his eyes off of him?

 

Mustang finally tore his prying eyes away from Ed and stood.

 

“I’ll go get the doctor. Don’t. Move. That's an order.”  He pushed the chair to the side so he could walk out of the door, leaving Edward by himself. The silence encroached on the space once again. Ed’s breaths came out labored with a slight wheeze. He was tired, but he’d be damned if he fell asleep again. He had practically slept for three days straight. 

 

Ed was half asleep when the door opened back up, startling him awake. The doctor led the way with Mustang trailing not far behind. The light from the hallway poured into the room, causing Ed to squint for a brief second before the door was shut again. 

 

“Good to see you awake!” The doctor smiled, moving to check the back of  liquid connected to his I.V. 

 

As Edward began to get examined, Roy stepped out of the room, giving him some privacy. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to stroll down the hallways, which were mostly empty considering the late hours. Silently he made his way up the stairs and onto the rooftop. The slightly chilled breeze smacked his face as he made his way out. It was a clear night in Central, lights stretching for miles. The moon was full, high in the sky. Roy sighed and sat on one of the few benches, gazing up at the blackness. 

 

“When did I get so soft?” He groaned to himself. The past week had taken Roy for a joyride. He knew he was loyal to his teammates and usually got rather emotional when it came to their wellbeing, but this was something different. When he heard of Alphonse’s capture and Edwards injuries, he felt a pit form in his stomach that he had never felt before. A fear that was so foreign to him, it almost made him think he was sick. He had tried to put his finger on it. Why was he so protective of the boys? Why did he feel the need to stay by Edwards' side in the hospital? The kid had stayed in the hospital plenty of times by himself, He didn’t need Roy… But something in his gut kept him tethered to that uncomfortable hospital chair.  Something fierce. 

 

“ Do you want to hold her?” 

 

Roy’s eyes widened, a memory flashing before him. 

 

“ I’m alright. Babies aren’t really my thing.” Mustang said, staring at the tiny bundle in Hughes’ arms. Hughes laughed, standing and walking over to him. 

 

“Come on! She won’t bite. Doesn’t even have teeth yet!” 

 

“Hughes…” Roy grimaced, a nervousness swelling up inside of him. He had never been around children before, much less a newborn baby. 

 

“Don’t tell me the Flame Alchemist is scared of an infant?!” Maes teased. 

 

“I am not scared!” Roy said, his voice only raising slightly as to not wake the child. He sighed and held out his arms. Hughes slowly transferred Elicia into his arms. 

 

“Support her head… There ya go!” Roy was stiff, his hands trembling ever-so-slightly. Elicia’s face was still, her breathing soft and even. Peaceful… Innocent… Roy felt himself relax slightly. 

 

“Do you ever want kids?” Maes asked, smiling at Roys acceptance of his only child. 

 

“I’m far too busy for something like that.” Roy snorted, he left out the part where he knew he would never be able to deserve children. He’d never deserve to marry, or live a normal life. Not after what he’s done. 

 

“It’s strange. I thought I didn’t want any either. Even when Gracia was pregnant, I was reluctant. Ecstatic, but scared out of my mind,” Hughes chuckled. 

 

“What changed? You seem so calm with her now.” 

“I don’t know… It was a strange thing. As soon as I first laid eyes on her, I wanted to do nothing but protect her. She lit something up in me I didn’t know existed… I somehow want to live just for her. I want to change for her, be better for her. She’s a light in my heart that never dims. Not even for a moment.” Hughes trailed off, his eyes lovingly staring at his daughter.

 

Roy leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. 

 

“So that's what you meant, huh Hughes?” Roy whispered with a smirk. 

 

He wondered what he would say looking at him now.

Chapter 16: A Brother's Mechanic

Summary:

Winry gets a call...

Notes:

Wowie sorry this took a while to update. I not only got Covid, but also Flu as well. At the same time. Because that's just my luck! I am just now feeling better and have been able to write! Hopefully the sickness train stays away for a while so I can update quicker! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 16: A Brother’s Mechanic

Winry could see the sun cresting over the farmlands and entering in small beams through her workshop window. She sat back, stretching her worn muscles. Her joints cracked with relief as she raised her hands far above her head. She turned to the small, wooden clock that sat atop her worktable.

“Morning already?” She sighed. The young mechanic had honestly not meant to stay up all night again, but when she was focused, time seemed to be nothing more than a concept. She pulled up her goggles and wiped a small droplet of sweat from her brow. The leg she was working on reflected in the light, a true piece of craftsmanship. The steel intertwined with the gears and tubing all meshing together down to the tiniest bolt on the toes. She was currently working on installing the wiring mechanisms that would soon serve to be someone’s nerves. She smiled in acceptance of her handiwork. Ever since coming to Rush Valley, her work has improved tenfold with the strict tutelage of Mister Garfiel and the occasional sit-ins with Mister Dominic proved to be helpful in her automail engineering journey.

“Winry? You stayed up all night again?” Garfiel asked, a steaming cup of tea in his hand. The floral piece of china looked miniscule in comparison to Garfiels large, worn hands.

“Yeah… I guess I got a little carried away.” She said sheepishly.

“What am I going to do with you?” Garfiel teased, striding over. He peered past her shoulder at the leg sprawled across the table. “However, I must say that leg is looking rather beautiful,” he marveled.

“T-thank you Mister Garfiel!” Winry blushed.

“Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll wake you when your first customer shows up.” He said with a smile on his plumped lips. Winry nodded tiredly and stood from her perched position on the stool.

Just as she was about to turn up the stairs, the phone rang. Garfiel rolled his eyes and marched over to the desk.

“We don’t open for another hour! Honestly.” Garfiel grumbled as he picked up the phone.

“Helloooo~ Garfiel’s Automail shop!” He cooed, his tone starkly different from what it was just a moment ago. Winry watched as his face changed from that of slight annoyance to curiosity.

“Winry dear! It’s your little alchemist friend!” He chirped, handing the phone out to her.

“Ed’s calling?” Winry hurried over to the phone and took it from Garfiel. She couldn’t help but feel a drop in her stomach as she put the receiver to her ear.

“Ed? What's up?” She asked with anticipation. Alarm bells were already sounding in her brain. For one, it was way too early for Edward to be awake on normal terms, second: he never called her. Not unless he needed something.

“Hey Winry…” She immediately noted how tired he sounded. His usual chipper attitude was sapped away from him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, cutting straight to the chase.

“Heh… Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Ed took a long pause, she could hear him sigh deeply. “Do you think you could come to Central? As soon as possible?”

Central? He wanted her to come to Central? She hadn’t left there that long ago and now he was already asking for her back? Last time she made a service call, he was laid up in the hospital after the fifth lab incident. She felt her heart begin to beat heavily in her chest.

“What happened?” She said breathlessly.

“It’s a long story… Please…” Ed’s voice trailed off. Winry didn’t need for him to finish his sentence. She already knew what he was going to say,

I need you.

“Alright. I’ll get on the first train to Central, but I'm charging you double!” She scolded, trying to lighten the mood. It was too odd for Ed to be so despondent.

“Thank you. I’ll reimburse your ticket for you. Armstrong will be there to pick you up from the station.” He explained.

“Why aren’t you or Al picking me up?” She felt bad grilling him like this, but the worry was about to explode from her chest and she needed answers before she hung up.

“I… Um…” Ed floundered, trying to come up with the best explanation.

“Tell me the truth, Edward.” Winry demanded, shoving down the tears that wanted to arise. She didn’t want to break Ed’s promise to her so soon.

“A lot happened. Al and I got a little roughed up… I’m out of commission for a bit.” Ed explained cautiously. “I promise, I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”

Winry decided to leave it at that. She confirmed the details with him and said a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone.

“Seems that boy is a magnet for trouble, hm?” Garfiel was leaning over the counter, his hand cradling his face. “I do like a troublemaker…” His eyes were off in the distance, a smile curling on his lips.

“I’m sorry I have to leave so suddenly… It seems like this is an emergency.” Winry apologized.

“No fear my dear! I’ll take care of everything on this end. You just get to your man!” He swooned, winking at Winry.

“He’s not my man!” She stammered, heat flushing on her cheeks.

“Right. Right. Hurry up! You don’t want to miss the first train!” Garfiel shooed her up the stairs to get packed.

“What have you done this time?” She whispered to herself as she climbed up the stairs.

…
To say Ed was nervous was an understatement.

It had been exactly twelve hours since he called Winry. He knew this because he couldn’t stop relentlessly checking the clock. She had called ten hours ago saying she was boarding the train to Central and would arrive by the evening.

Now, the evening was here. Armstrong had rushed off to meet her while he, Mustang, Hawkeye, and Al sat quietly in the small, desolate hospital room. He had tried to sleep - truly he wanted to, the fatigue and stress on his body was enough to knock him out for the rest of the day, but anxious energy was a force to be reckoned with.

He tried to pass the time with a book, he tried to read to Al, play cards with Mustang (who Ed swears cheated), but nothing aided his heart stopping fear of when his childhood friend would walk through that door.

What was she going to say?

She’ll probably cry again… Ed would already break his promise to her.

Then when she saw the state of his automail (or lack of automail), he would be meeting Truth again much faster than he thought he would.

These thoughts scattered around his brain and pattered across his entire body, keeping his eyes glued to the clock.

“Brother, you should really eat something!” Alphonse interjected, interrupting Ed’s thoughts. His voice was chipper, laced with a fake sort of cheeriness that Ed could always see through.

“Not hungry.” He muttered, tearing his eyes away from the clock for a mere second to glance at his younger brother.

“You haven’t eaten all day, you need to keep up your strength.” Al tried again, his voice softer this time. Ed wanted to berate himself for making Alphonse sound so defeated.

“Ya know Pipsqueak, you’ll stay stunted forever if you don’t eat.” Mustang quipped, his nose buried deep within a book.

“Who are you callin so small that even ants would call him tiny?!” Ed steamed. Mustang smirked, placing down his novel.

“I’ll go fetch you something.”

“Argh! That bastard.” Ed grumbled after Mustang shut the door. Hawkeye had followed him.

The room was left in silence, the ever-present ticking of the clock continued to ring loudly throughout the space. Ed huffed, leaning back further into the bed.

“Brother, it’s going to be alright.” Alphonse comforted, always knowing what Ed was thinking.

“She’s gonna be upset,” Ed muttered, fisting the sheets in his hand.

“Of course she is. Her best friend is injured, but she won’t blame you. Not this time at least…” Al said, trying to meagerly lighten the mood.

“Heh. Doubt it. That gearhead is going to smack me upside the head with her wrench the minute she sees me,” Ed smirked.

“Brother?” Al asked,

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” Ed sat up again.

“It’s all my fault… I couldn’t protect you, I let them take me and you had to come rushing after me… All I could do was sit there and watch while they hurt you…” Al’s voice quivered.

“Al, stop it. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.” Ed said flatly.

“No it's not!” Al interjected.

“Yes, it is. I wasn’t quick enough to dodge that asshole's bullet. I fled the hospital thinking I could help you on my own. It was my own stupidity that got me into this mess. You did nothing wrong, so stop blaming yourself, okay?” Ed said, putting on his best big brother voice he could muster. “I’m sorry you’ve been stuck like that for so long now… It must be awful, not being able to move and all.” Ed’s voice cracked a bit, the guilt rising like bile in his throat.

“What about you? You must be in terrible pain…” Al stammered.

“At least I can feel pain…” Ed said quietly, more to himself than to Al.

“Luck is never on our side, is it brother?” Al chuckled.

“Hah. Luck. What a fickle thing.”

“You should really get some rest before Winry gets here… No offense, but you look terrible.” Al coddled. Ed wanted to roll his eyes, insisting he was fine, but his eyes had continued to droop as their conversation had gone on and he was slowly losing the battle.

“Sure, Al. F’r you.” Ed slurred, dipping into a gentle slumber.

…

Winry clutched her suitcase tightly in her calloused fingers. Major Armstrong led her through the quiet hallways of the hospital. Nurses and doctors meandered through the inpatient ward, checking room after room. Her eyes hurt slightly from the pristine white of everything around her. With every step, her heart hammered harder and harder. Armstrong had told her everything on the ride over from the train station. She allowed herself to cry, only then. If Armstrong noticed her tears, he didn’t mention it. She was thankful for that. She continued to tell herself that everything was going to be fine. The mantra repeated again and again like a metronome in her brain. She’d open the door and Ed would be standing on top of the bed, yelling at some poor nurse. Like he always did.

She noted how Amrstrong didn’t tell her the state of his automail.

They stopped in front of one of the many doors, this one no different than the rest. However, much more important.

Armstrong knocked, once, twice with large knuckles before sliding open the small door.

She didn’t like how quiet it was on the other side. Her throat felt like it was closing. Armstrong stepped to the side to let her enter. She quelled the shaking in her legs and crossed over the threshold. There was no going back now.

Ed was propped up in his bed, leaning over a small table. His flesh hand tightly held onto a small, black chess piece. His eyes were laser focused on the board in front of him. Hawkeye was on the other side of the table to the left of his hospital bed. Her posture was poised and her demeanor was calm, she was watching Edward intently. He finally moved the piece. Hawkeye immediately moved her Queen, taking the piece for herself.

“Aghhh! How do you do that?!” Ed groaned, clutching his head. It seemed that he hadn’t noticed the new visitors yet, so focused on the game he had completely tuned out anything else.

“Hello Winry. It’s wonderful to see you.” Hawkeye said, turning to face the door. Ed’s tantrum ceased as he whipped his head towards the door. His face flushed and his eyes widened.

“W-Winry! Y-you’re here early!” Ed stammered, hurrying to straighten himself up. Before, Winry could see the deep bags under his eyes, his small winces as he moved. Now, however, it was like he had flipped a switch and everything was perfectly fine.

She hated when he lied to her.
For a split second, Winry didn’t know what to say. How to react. Should she be happy? Sad? Angry? Should she act like everything was normal? Her eyes darted to Alphonse, who was propped up in the corner. She almost gasped at the sight of him. Although covered, his limbs were gone, crudely ripped away.

Just what exactly happened? Armstrong told her the basics, but to see them in person so defeated… It scared her.

“Winry?” Ed tilted his head, a small ebb of nervousness in his voice.

“You idiots. What have you gotten yourselves into this time?” She said calmly, entering the room fully. She set her case down on the far side of the room and hurried over to Ed, wrapping her slender arms around him in a gentle embrace. She was mindful to not jostle him too much.

“I’m glad you both are okay.” She said, inhaling the sunshine scent of Ed’s long locks. She gave a loving glance at Alphonse.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, Winry…” Alphonse said gratefully.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming.” Ed said softly, wrapping his one flesh arm around her as best he could.

They stayed like that for a long while. All three of them were content to just be with one another.

Notes:

I am not sure how long it would take Winry to get from Rush Valley to Central. Probably not as long as I made it here, but I wanted a passage of time. I'd say her entire trip took about 15 hours. Ed calling her about 6AM and her arriving at 9PM. With stops that doesn't seem too crazy, right?

Chapter 17: A Brother's Arm

Summary:

Edward's arm and leg are completed, now they just need to be attached.

Notes:

Wowie! I am not sure how many more chapters this will be. I start school again soon and i'm going to be really busy! It's my last semester in college!

Anyways, this is short. I'm sorry. Enjoy!

Chapter 17 A Brother’s Arm

 

Roy noticed both Ed and Al were in considerably good moods after the arrival of their childhood friend. Al was laughing and joking, usually at Ed’s expense and Ed carried a slight smile most of the time. Her bubbly personality and witty sense of humor seemed to breathe a breath of fresh air into the dank hospital room. 

 

It had been three days since her arrival. She would spend all day at the hospital, tending to Ed even when he refused her help and at night she would work in Mustang’s study, hopelessly crafting Ed’s new arm. Roy noticed how she never seemed to leave the study. When he would go to bed he could hear her various tools clanking away and the same sound would be there when he awoke. It never seemed to shake her, though. She was much better at putting on a good front than Edward was. 

 

She had to make the arm from scratch. Mustang and his men spent hours going to every automail mechanic within a 20 kilometer radius to find the parts she needed. Mustang didn’t even know what half of the stuff on the list was, but he completed the task without complaint. 

 

Anything to see Ed put back together again. 

 

“Are you listening, bastard?” Roy shook from his thoughts. He turned to Ed and smiled,

 

“I was just thinking about ways to help you grow taller, shorty.” He teased. Ed fumed slightly, but otherwise didn’t say anything. Roy knew he wasn’t feeling great, the lingering cough from the pneumonia and the slow healing wounds littering his body was constantly sapping his energy. Winry hadn’t arrived yet, Hawkeye was to bring her as soon as she made the final touches on Ed’s arm and finish the repairs on his leg. 

 

“You made sure you got all the pieces to Al’s armor, right?” Ed urged. Mustang nodded, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Yes, for the hundredth time we made sure we got them all.” 

 

Ed still didn’t seem satisfied. He fiddled with the sheets of the small hospital cot, anxiety rolling off of him in tsunami size waves. 

 

Roy didn’t think he’d ever seen Ed so nervous before.

 

The hospital door slid open to reveal a brightly smiling Winry, her arms full with her toolbox. Hawkeye entered after her, gently carrying the two steel limbs. Ed sat up and plastered a grin on his face, a stark difference to the nervous bundle of hurt that he was a few moments ago. 

 

“Alright! It’s all ready for you!” Winry said happily, moving to the bedside. Mustang moved out of her way, hurrying to stand by Hawkeye. “Are you sure you are feeling up to it?” Winry asked a bit quieter.

“Yes. Al hasn’t been able to move for over a week now. I can’t just keep laying here while he’s like that.” Edward said, his voice a mumble. 

 

“Brother, don’t strain yourself,” Alphonse insisted.

 

“I’m fine, bro! Let's get it done.” Ed’s forehead was shining with sweat. 

 

Winry studied his face for a long moment before sighing. “Alright, if that's what you want.” She stood and moved to Hawkeye, taking the limbs from her and setting them on a small rolling cart that was in the room. 

 

“Colonel Mustang, could you help me with this?” She asked, pointing her gaze at him. 

 

“My help?” Roy blurted out, obviously taken aback by her request. 

 

“It’s better to attach both of the limbs at once, less time the body is in distress.” Winry explained, her voice clinical and detached. 

 

“I-I don’t know how to…” Roy stuttered. 

 

“Come on Colonel, it’s easy.” Ed barked.

 

Roy hesitated, was he really qualified to do something like this? This wasn’t just a band aid that needed to be put on, it was automail, a science seemingly even more complicated than alchemy. If he messed it up it could permanently harm Edward’s central nervous system. He darted his eyes around the room, stopping on Edward. Whose face was mixed with a desperate sort of begging. It was faint, so subtle not many would be able to see it. He needed Roy. Otherwise they would probably call in a doctor or someone who Ed doesn’t trust and trust is huge for Edward.

 

So Roy swallowed his fear and moved forward. Winry directed him to the other side of the bed where the boy's arm port was. 

 

“Alright, up we go.” Winry helped Ed to sit up all the way, if she noticed his wince then she didn’t say anything about it. Gingerly, she helped him get his hospital shirt off, being mindful of his shoulder. Roy could see where his port connected to the flesh, something he has seen on occasion, but it jarred him every time. 

 

The steel was bolted directly into his bones, his skin marred and scars littered the connecting point. The port itself was dug right into his muscle, creating a socket. How Ed could recover in only a year was mind boggling to him. 

 

“Do you need help-” 

 

“No. I can do that on my own!” Ed snapped, cutting Winry off. He fumbled to get his pants off, leaving him in only his light blue underwear. His face grew red with blush. 

“Alright. I’m gonna have you do this laying down.” Winry said, easing Ed back down onto the bed. She then pushed the small lever to flatten the bed completely. Ed coughed slightly, smothering the rest. 

 

Winry turned her attention to Roy, her eyes firm. She grabbed the arm and moved to his side of the bed, clicking it into the socket. Roy was expecting a flurry of electricity to start flying from the arm, but nothing happened. “The arm isn’t activated yet.” She moved to grab a wrench from her toolbox and handed it to Roy. He awkwardly stood there, wrench in hand as she connected the leg into the socket as well. 

 

She flipped up a panel in the leg, revealing a mess of wires and bolts. “This bolt here is the connector to the nerves. All you need to do to activate it is turn the wrench clockwise until you hear a hiss. Don’t stop turning until you hear that.” She reached over and flipped up the panel on Ed's shoulder. “You think you can do that?” Winry asked, her tone more serious than it had been. 

 

“Yes,” Roy replied.

 

“Alright. Ed, you ready?” Winry’s voice was instantly gentler. 

 

“Yes…” Ed exasperated, his eyes were squeezed shut in anticipation. 

 

“Okay, on the count of three.” She placed her wrench on the bolt, Mustang followed suit. 

 

“One.” 

 

Roy’s heart was pounding.

 

“Two.” 

 

He couldn’t do this.

 

“Three!” 

 

Roy turned the wrench sharply. Ed gasped, his back arched and his eyes blew open, pupils dilated. 

 

The bolt hissed, and he stopped, putting his hands up. Winry stopped as well and quickly removed both of the wrenches, closing the panels. 

 

Roy painstakingly watched as Edward shook, his back flopping back into the pillows and eyes squeezing shut again. His breathing was heavy, chest heaving up and down. His flesh arm was fisted so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

 

“Okay Ed, one more.” 

 

“What?!” Mustang cried. There was more?

 

“We connected the first half of his joint. We need to connect the rest.” Winry explained, flipping up the bottom panel of his leg and the forearm panel of his arm. She handed the wrench back to him. 

 

“Almost over, Ed. Hang in there.” Winry said sadly, brushing a piece of sweat filled hair out of his face. 

 

“Ready?” Winry asked. Roy put the wrench on the screw and nodded. 

 

“One.”

 

It was almost over.

“Two.” 

 

He could do this.

 

“Three!” 

 

Again, he turned the wrench.

 

This time, Ed screamed. 

It wasn’t a loud, fear filled scream that he had heard while Ed was in the hands of Reinbuckle

 

It was more of a cry. A sob of pain, yet no tears fell from his eyes. 

 

Hiss

 

Disconnect. 

 

Ed fell once again back into the pillows, this time unmoving. 

 

“Is he okay?” Mustang quickly moved to hover over the boy, his features lax. His breathing was still heavy. 

 

“He just passed out. It's normal for people to do so. However, Ed never usually does.” Winry calmly moved to his side, propping the bed slightly up once again. “His body has been through a lot recently though. He should wake up in a few hours.” She closed the panels and plopped the wrenches back into her bag. 

 

“It’s over?” Roy asked. 

 

“It’s over.” Winry said, She covered Ed up with the blankets and held his flesh hand in hers. 

 

…

Ed awoke to the sound of Winry and Al talking quietly. His eyes fluttered open, ports throbbing. 

 

“Winry…?” 

 

“Ed! How do you feel?” Winry whipped her head around to greet him. 

 

“Ugh… How long was I out?” He groaned, feeling every breath rattle in his chest. 

 

“About three hours.” She explained, she moved her hand to his forehead. 

 

“Seems the fever has broken too.” She smiled. 

 

Ed forced himself to sit up, accepting Winry’s help to get him back up all the way. He raised his arm, moving his fingers. He smiled, finally feeling whole again. He quickly swung his legs over the side of the bed, wriggling his automail toes as well. It felt good as new. 

 

“Winry you are amazing!” He said cheerfully. Her cheeks flushed in response. 

 

“Alright, Al! Let's get you fixed up!” Ed’s excited adrenaline pumped him forward, allowing him to stand on his own two feet for the first time in a while. He wobbled slightly, Winry was quick to catch him. 

“Where’s the Colonel?” Ed asked, taking in the room. 

“He and the Lieutenant went home for a few hours. You should have seen it! Hawkeye had to practically drag him out!” Al laughed. 

 

“Now that is hard to believe.” Ed snickered. 

 

He moved towards Al and knelt beside him, ignoring the flare of pain in his thigh. There was a small cloth in front of him. He unraveled it to reveal all of the broken bits of armor that once made up his brother. 

 

“Alright, let's get this done.”  Ed said. He clapped his hands together, feeling the hum of alchemy surge through him. Slowly he began to piece together his brother’s armor, using the soul bind as an anchor. Al’s arms and legs reformed back to their shiny, former glory. Soon, the hum died down and the blue sparks of the transmutation fizzled out. 

 

“There you are.” Ed said happily as Al began to move his limbs once again. 

 

The first thing he did, was wrap Ed into a long hug. 

Chapter 18: A Brother's Emotions

Summary:

While Ed's physical state is healing, his metal state is suffering.

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait! I was having lots of writers block. Writing some, then deleting it. That cycle went on for a long time. I decided to delve into Ed's emotional state, as something traumatic like that is bound to mess someone up! More emotional hurt/comfort coming your way! This chapter is more setup and transition.

Chapter 18: A Brother’s Emotions

 

Ed spent three more days in the hospital after his automail reattachment.  

 

They wanted him to stay longer, urged him to rest and recover, but with his limbs reattached it was hard to keep him down. 

 

Although in much better shape than he was, Ed wasn’t out of the woods yet. His gunshot wounds still needed ample time to heal, his concussion was giving him frequent headaches, his broken ribs and the gunk that was still settled in his chest from the pneumonia made it hard for him to breathe. The hospital made him restless. He wasn’t going to be able to stay there and heal properly at the same time. 

Thus, his release paperwork was approved by the reluctant doctors. 

 

Winry had left a day prior to Ed’s release. She wished to be by Ed’s side until he was fully recovered but couldn’t keep Garfiel and her clients waiting any longer. 

 

Al had reminded Mustang of his promise, a place where Ed could rest and recover (and also a place where he could be watched consistently). 

 

Ed’s restlessness could be managed by the armored younger brother. He could coax Ed back into bed, or force him to eat, even when he stated he wasn’t hungry.  

 

But there was another thing that Al needed help with. Something deeper than physical scars. 

 

Ed was plagued with nightmares, violent acts of settling PTSD. He would wake, thrashing and crying. He would beg for help, pleading for Reinbuckle to stop whatever he was doing in Ed’s subconscious. He’d cry out to Al, a sobbing and blubbering mess. 

 

Al was struggling to help Ed through these terrors. Usually he was able to help Ed through the nightmares of their mother, but these were different.

 

He had never seen him so horribly emotional before. 

 

If Alphonse was being honest with himself, he too couldn’t get the thoughts of the entire ordeal out of his head. Although he couldn’t have nightmares like his older brother, the image of Ed’s bleeding, broken form kept playing in his mind like a movie reel that was stuck in a loop. Flickering and rewinding before playing again.  

 

It was hard to help Ed when he couldn’t help himself either. 

 

Mustang understood this. Hell, he’d had his fair share of nightmares as well. 

 

Understanding is different than helping though. 

 

He wasn’t equipped to deal with this. What would he do? What could he possibly say to comfort the two brothers? He wasn’t their father. He wasn’t…

 

He almost passed out from joy when Hawkeye said she’d stay with them too. She claimed it was to help him with his arm, since it was technically still out of commission, but he knew better. He was thankful she maintained his dignity as a hardened soldier though. 

 

Now they were here, standing awkwardly in the hospital room while Ed gathered his things in his small suitcase. Al tried to jump in and help but Ed was quick to shoo him away. 

 

“I got it, Al! Quit mothering me.” He sneered in his usual whiny tone. 

 

Al chuckled, almost looking as if he was smiling. Ed was slowly getting back to his normal bratty self. 

 

“I still don’t know why we have to stay with colonel bastard over here. We’d be fine at the dorms!” He complained, rolling his eyes. Although he seemed a bit less spunky than usual. Roy could see the dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep and the ruffled, unkempt braid that Ed had lazily put up. It was like looking at a husk of familiarity, where the reflection was recognizable, but hazy and broken. 

 

Roy smiled, attempting to keep the mood light. 

 

“Aw come on, my house can't be that bad. I can even put ya to work! I know my lawn is in desperate need of some TLC” He jeered. 

 

“Why not just use alchemy? Ohhh wait… You only know fire alchemy don’t you?” Ed giggled, jabbing at Roy’s abilities. 

 

“I know other kinds of alchemy!” Roy defended, his cheeks twinging red.

 

“Sureeee~ tell me, why haven’t I seen you do anything other than flame alchemy then?” Ed replied. 

 

“Less chatting, more packing pipsqueak. I don’t want to be in this disinfectant-filled place any longer.” Roy said. Ed smiled cruelly, knowing he won this battle. 

 

…

There was chatter going on around Edward. Al was laughing about something, Mustang and Hawkeye’s canter was all that could be heard. Their words were muddled, like they were behind a wall. He stared out the car window, watching the buildings of Central pass him by in an instant. The road rumbled beneath them. Although Ed was in the car, on his way to Mustang's house, his mind was scattered elsewhere. His shoulder and thigh throbbed. The still-bandaged burn wound on his arm itched like crazy. But that wasn’t what was bothering him. 

 

As street after street passed by him, he grew closer to Mustang’s home. Closer to the place where he was attacked by that monster. Closer to the home of his nightmares. 

 

And closer to the place of his weakness. 

It scared him, leaving a pit in his stomach so deep, one could fall in it forever and never hit the bottom. He didn’t want Mustang to see him cry. He didn’t want Al to comfort him anymore. But he couldn’t escape the horrifying nightmares. 

 

How was he going to react once he stepped through that door? 

 

The rambling, intrusive thoughts followed him all the way to Mustang’s home. 

 

“Brother, we’re here.” Al called, jolting Edward back to his senses. “Hey, don’t scratch at your arm!” Al chided, moving Ed’s hand away from where he was unconsciously scratching at his bandages. 

 

“Sorry.” Ed said sheepishly, slouching his shoulders. He took a few deep breaths, steeling himself for what was to come. He could do this. It was just a house, it was just a place. He was safe here. Reinbuckle was in jail, there was nothing he could do to hurt him anymore. 

 

That gnawing feeling in the back of his brain failed to cease. 

 

Al had insisted on grabbing the suitcase, closely following behind Edward as they climbed the few steps to get into Mustang’s home. 

 

“I got you guys set up in my bedroom. It’s a bit bigger and probably more comfortable for the both of you.” Mustang explained as they entered. 

“You didn’t need to do that.” Ed grumbled. 

 

“Thank you Colonel. Come brother, let's get unpacked.” Al jumped in, ushering Ed up the stairs and into the far bedroom. 

 

Ed couldn’t stifle the hammering in his chest as they strode past the door to the guest room. He would never admit it, but he was extremely grateful that the colonel switched rooms with them. Ed wasn’t sure if he could fall asleep in the guest room ever again. Not after last time. 

 

“Brother, are you okay?” Al asked quietly, shutting the door to Mustang’s bedroom behind him. Ed flopped on the bed, rubbing his face with the cool steel of his automail hand. 

 

“Fine Al, don’t worry.” Ed replied softly. His breaths were short, but even enough to not arouse suspicions. He hoped Al couldn’t hear the intensity at which his heart was beating. 

 

“I’m sorry…” Al whispered. Ed shot up into a sitting position, ignoring the flare of discomfort. 

 

“What the hell are you sorry for?” Ed asked, tilting his head. 

 

“I made you come here. I’m sorry I…” Al sat down next to Ed on the bed, staring at the floor. 

 

“It was too scary to think about us being alone again.” He whispered, “I feel safer with Mustang and Hawkeye here. I pushed it off like you were the one who needed the people around, but it was me… I know you’d rather be in the dorms…” Al sighed. Ed scoot closer to Al and knocked him on the arm with his metal finger. 

 

“Hey, stop it. This is nothing to be sorry for.” Ed said, feeling like a big brother for the first time in a while. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t want to be alone either.” He admitted, letting out a sigh. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

 

“We’re safe now, right?” Al asked, his voice quivering slightly. 

 

“Yeah. I think so.” Ed said, unconvinced. “Come on, let's go see what kind of books Mustang likes to read, maybe he has something interesting that doesn’t have to do with fire!” Ed sprang up, forcing a smile on his face. 

 

“Haha, okay!” Al giggled, standing alongside Edward. 

 

Ed knew that the night would bring its own terrors, but for now, he would enjoy the solace with his only brother.

Chapter 19: A Brother's Nightmares

Summary:

Ed is suffering from nightmares, but his support system is there to help!

Notes:

Golly... It's been a long time. I am so sorry. I am student teaching and it's been incredibly busy. I had a three day weekend though to get this chapter out! Even though it's short... Hope you enjoy!

Roy Mustang hadn’t had a good night sleep in years.

 

 It was something he was used to. Long nights on the battlefield with the distant sounds of explosions, waking up to nightmares, staying out late on various missions.

There was no way the colonel could ever have a good night's sleep again. 

 

This night was to be no different. 

 

Roy was jolted awake to the sounds of screaming, wailing sounds muffled by the walls dividing the guest room he was currently sleeping in, and his own bedroom. Without hesitation, he sprung upwards letting the blanket fall at his feet. Stumbling, still bleary from sleep he rushed towards the door, retching it open. His bare feet slammed against the wooden floors as he rushed to the bedroom. Another pattering of feet behind him caused him to turn momentarily. Hawkeye was bounding up the stairs, gun in hand. Her hair was messy, and the silk nightclothes she had brought made her look entirely out of character. Roy offered to let her sleep in the guest room, but she insisted on sleeping on the couch, where she could watch for intruders. 

 

The two of them hurried to the door of Roy’s own bedroom, where the screams and cries continued to reverberate. “ Ed’s cries”  Roy thought to himself as he flung the door open.

 

“Fullmetal, Alphonse!” He barked, taking in the sights of the pitiful room. The only light came from the window where moonlight poured in, leaving the room in an eerie glow. Alphonse had his large, steel arms wrapped around a shuddering Edward. Roy couldn’t see the boy's face yet continued to hear his cries. He was saying something, but Roy couldn’t make it out through the blubbering sobs. 

 

“He had a nightmare, but it's like he hasn’t woken up yet!” Alphonse said with a panic. Roy and Riza strode over. Riza took the reins, setting her gun on the bedside table and pulling Ed from Alphonse. With great reluctance, Al let go of Edward and moved slightly out of the way. Riza cradled the boy in her arms, moving his head to where she could see his face. 

 

Roy’s heart wanted to break right there. He had seen this face on many soldiers before. He himself had worn this exact expression on more than one occasion. 

 

The face of someone who had faced death. 

 

The face of someone lost in a horrific memory. 

 

His eyes were wide open, bloodshot and filled with tears. His breathing was erratic, chest heaving up and down so heavily, Roy was afraid he would pass out. He was shaking like a leaf that is desperately clinging onto a tree during a windstorm. 

 

“Edward… Edward you’re safe, come on back to us.” She lightly tapped the side of Ed’s cheek, brushing a few strands of loose, golden blonde hair away. 

 

Ed blinked, his sobs quieting a moment, as if he was trying to piece together a puzzle. 

“Breathe…” She grabbed his hand as gently as she could, placing it on her own chest. “Feel my breaths. Breathe in when I do, breathe out when I do.” Her voice was steady and firm, but also gentle. 

 

Ed slowly began to quiet himself, his screams and wails, turning into choked sobs, turning into sniffles. His breathing was shaky, but much slower. He continued to blink, bringing himself out of the nightmare. The minutes ticked on, each second passing like it was moving through molasses. 

 

“Lieutenant?” He finally rasped, his voice raw. 

 

“Are you back with us?” She asked.

 

Ed suddenly was aware of what position he was in. He was being cradled like a baby in the arms of Hawkeye. He glanced over and saw the worried expression of Roy. His face twisted into a mortified embarrassment as he quickly sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

 

“W-what happened?” Edward asked, his body still shaking considerably. 

 

“Brother!” Alphonse leapt towards Ed, embracing him as tightly as he could. 

 

“Al, you’re hurting me.” Ed said, his voice quiet and filled with exhaustion. 

 

“S-sorry!” Alphonse squeaked, letting him go.

“Do you remember what happened?” Roy asked.

 

Edward gulped and nodded. His eyes drooped more and more by the second.

 

“It was the basement… I w-was tied up and…” Edward trailed off, rubbing his face. 

 

“Are you okay, brother?” Alphonse fretted.

 

“Headache.” Ed replied. 

 

“I’ll grab you some water,” Riza said. She stood and moved swiftly out of the bedroom, taking her gun with her. 

 

“It was so real… It was like I could feel it all happening again…” Ed scratched at the bandage on his arm. 

 

“You went through something traumatic. It’s normal to be a bit messed up from it.” Roy replied, sounding incredibly unhelpful.

 

Ed sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. He focused on his breathing, taking in deep, shaky breaths. 

 

“I’m sorry for worrying you. You can head back to bed now, I'll be fine.” Ed said with an unconvincing tone. 

“You most certainly are not fine, Fullmetal.” Mustang said matter-of-factly. He hesitated a moment before grabbing Ed’s metallic wrist, pushing it away from the incessant scratching of his burn. 

 

“Shut up. What do you know?” Ed said angrily. Tucking his automail hand at his side with embarrassment. 

 

“More than you could ever imagine.” Roy said quietly. Ed cocked his head to the side, opening his mouth to question Roy’s statement. Before he could utter another word, Riza came back in with a small glass of water. Ed took it graciously in his flesh hand and gulped it down. 

 

“Thanks.” He said, wiping some of the remaining water from his lips. Roy noted the shuddering of Ed’s chest with every inhale and the slight tremor to his hold on the cup. 

 

“Brother… Maybe you should go talk to someone about this…” Alphonse suggested. “You’ve been having these flashbacks since the hospital and I fear they are getting worse… What if I can’t bring you out of it? What if you are stuck like that forever? What if-”

 

Ed cut Alphonse off by knocking on his armor. 

“Quit rambling. I’m okay, really. I just…” Ed pondered for a moment, as if afraid to utter the phrase. He gulped once, twice before opening his mouth again. 

 

“I just need to see him again. ” 

 

“What?! Are you crazy?! No way will I let that man come anywhere near you ever again!” Alphonse yelled, fear encroaching on his voice. 

 

“If I see him locked up… Maybe it’ll help… Maybe it’ll tell my brain that  I'm finally safe…” Ed trailed off on the last part, more-so talking to himself. 

 

Riza glanced at Roy with apprehension. Roy knew that one of two things could happen if Ed were to see Reinbuckle again: either it would help him get through his trauma…

 

Or it would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

 

“If that's what you want, I can take you to see him in the morning.” Roy said, after long deliberation. 

 

“Really?” Ed said, sounding hopeful. 

 

“ Sir… ” Riza said quietly, nudging him in the side. 

 

“It’s Ed’s decision.” Roy responded, knowing that even if he said no: Edward’s stubborn self would probably go anyway. 

 

He just hoped he wasn’t making the wrong decision.

Chapter 20: A Brother's Resolve

Summary:

Ed comes face to face with Reinbuckle, hoping to find closure

Notes:

Wow okay it's been a minute. Sorry! I've been so busy and life being life. Anyways, I don't know how I really feel about this chapter. But it's okay. Next chapter will put a neat lil bow on this here series! Hope you are excited for the end!

Anyways, sorry about my hiatus. Love yall. Thanks for being patient.

Chapter 19:
The morning air nipped at Roy’s face, making his nose feel like an icicle. The wintery air was beginning to make its way into Central. It wouldn’t be long before snow began to cover the streets.

Ed was quiet next to him, uncharacteristically so. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his thin, red coat. Al had insisted he wear something a little warmer, but Ed quietly refused. His eyes were heavy, dark circles were deep around his eyes. Roy probably looked just as haggard as he did. Ed had awoken two more times in the night, screaming from nightmares. Each time left him more breathless than the last. Both him and Hawkeye had ended up just falling asleep on the floor after the second time. His back let him know just how bad of a decision that was. Hawkeye had left to go to the office already. He was thankful she was holding down the fort for him in his absence. Al lumbered behind them, keeping a watchful eye on the exhausted older brother.

They approached the prison slowly. Its large, intimidating stature got closer with each step. Roy could see Ed begin to shake.

…
Edward felt pathetic.

He felt useless. Like a scared little kid. He’d been at death's door so many times, he’s dealt with trauma unlike any other. So why was he so affected by it? Why now was he so afraid? As they entered the prison, dread began to bubble in his stomach. It climbed up his throat. He gulped it down, willing himself not to throw up.

“Brother, are you okay? You don’t have to do this, you know.” Al said gently, placing a hand on Ed’s shoulder.

“I’m fine Al…” Ed trailed off, keeping his eyes locked on the door leading to the rest of the prison. Mustang was talking to the guard, his voice low and rumbly. Ed tried to listen, but struggled to hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears.

“Fullmetal.” Mustang’s voice pierced through the darkness, allowing Ed to snap back to reality. “Ready?”

Ed gulped, then nodded.

“Ready.”

The guard hit a large, red button sitting atop his desk. A loud buzzing resounded through the hall as the large, metal door swung open. Ed felt like he was looking down the portal of truth. Every fiber in his being told him to run away, to dash out the door and never look back.

No, he could do this. He survived human transmutation. He survived automail. He survived this. He has nothing to be afraid of. He looked to Mustang and Al, feeling a sense of security wash over him. They wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

They rounded a corner, Mustang at the lead. His stride was wide and confident. Ed tried to make himself seem as straight and proud as possible. They came across another desk. Mustang spoke in a hushed tone to the officer, showing his pocket watch. The officer’s eyes widened a bit before nodding and ushering them down another long hallway. He stopped at a small, wooden door. Fumbling with his keys, he opened the door, holding it for the three to enter.

“I’ll bring him in. Make yourselves comfortable.” He said matter of factly, turning and leaving swiftly. Ed hovered awkwardly. Mustang took a seat in one of the small, wooden chairs.

“Are you going to sit, or not?” Mustang chided, trying to sound upbeat.

“Right. Yeah.” Ed said quietly, moving to sit in the other chair. Al was much too large to fit in any of the cheap seats in the conference room. He opted to stand in the corner. Ed could almost feel the anger radiating off of him.

The door on the opposite side of the room buzzed before sliding open.

Ed felt his heart sink into his stomach, his chest heaving and breaths becoming ragged.

Cuffed at the front, in a dirty, gray jumpsuit, Thomas Reinbuckle entered. He was hunched over, his lips curled into a cruel smile. The officer pushed Reinbuckle roughly into the plastic chair. Ed stared for a long while at the man. Reinbuckle tilted his head, a crack resounding through the room. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he perched his hands on the table, the chains from the cuffs jingling as they moved. His smile got larger as he made eye contact with Ed.

“What a pleasant surprise… Fullmetal Alchemist.” Ed furrowed his brow and clenched his fist. “What brings you here? Couldn’t get enough?” His voice was sly, taunting.

“I want to know why.” Ed said, his voice quivering ever so slightly.

“Hmm? Didn’t I tell you already?” Reinbuckle curled his eyebrow up.

“You and I both know that what happened wasn’t my fault,” Ed said.

“Oh? Not your fault? Perhaps not all of it was. However, my son is now dead because of you. That is the truth.” The crazed look in Reinbuckles eyes gleamed.

“You are the one who killed your own son! Maybe if you didn’t kidnap a state alchemist and his brother, this wouldn’t be an issue!” Ed’s voice edged on anger.

“You are the one who committed the taboo. You are the one who tempted me with your skills. You are the one who refused to help me. If you would have just done as I asked, none of this would have happened! I would have had my son, my daughter, my family.”

“I told you it doesn’t work like that! Human transmutation is not possible.” Ed took a deep breath, trying to smooth out his anger.

“Look at how pathetic you are. I see you shaking. Quivering in fear just from my presence. Maybe I was naive to believe a child like you could actually prove to be something useful!” Reinbuckle leaned forward over the table, a shadow casting over his wrinkled face. In a voice, as soft and a cruel as night he spoke:

“Maybe you couldn’t save your mother because of your lack of ability.” He eyed upwards at Al, “Maybe if you were just a little stronger. You could have spared your brother such an awful fate.”

Ed’s eyes went wide. The breaths he tried to keep under control now came out in quickened huffs. Ed’s fears that he kept under lock and key burst open at the seams, escaping and encapsulating him. It was Ed’s fault. It was Ed’s doing. It was his lack of ability.

And now…

Now Al… And mom…
A loud crash resounded in the room. Ed jumped out of his seat, letting it clatter behind him.

Alphonse had reached a giant gauntlet over the table, grabbing Reinbuckle by the scruff of his uniform. His other fist slammed into the wood, splintering it. The hollow pinpricks of his eyes were menacing. Reinbuckle looked taken aback by the sudden attack.

“Don’t you ever talk about him that way!” Al’s voice was dark. “You have no idea what he’s been through! What he’s sacrificed for me and for so many other people! How dare you try to act like you are the innocent one? How dare you pin blame on him?!” Al was fuming.

“Alphonse… Calm-”

“Shut up!” Al cried. Mustang was stunned into silence.

“Why can’t you people just give him a break? Why do you always have to remind him… Remind us of what we did? Why is it we are still being punished for it? Why…” Alphonse’s voice faltered. He dropped Reinbuckle heavily onto the table. Not being able to catch himself, he slammed into the table face first.

“Al…” Ed whispered, reaching out towards him with his artificial hand. The hand that reminds him everyday of their sins.

Al turned and left without a word, slamming the door behind him.
“Al!” Ed turned to chase after him, but a chuckle stopped him in his tracks.

“Don’t you see what you’ve done?” Reinbuckle continued.

“That’s enough out of you!” Mustang demanded, “guards!”

“No. Wait.” Ed said, confidence etching back into his voice. “I realized something just then… Something I had been trying to desperately figure out for a while now.” He stopped, looking to the floor. His arms dropped at his side, he saw the glint of the steel that was now his limb.

“I was so bothered… Why did I care so much about what you did to me? I had seen horrors. I’ve seen pain and guilt and suffering. I’ve felt those things, and now I'm paying the price for it.” He clenched his automail hand.

“It’s because you are human.”

Reinbuckle looked confused, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I’ve been beaten and broken and bruised by entities you couldn’t even imagine. Things that destroy the fabric of this reality that we know. Things that defy all laws of equivalent exchange… But you… You are a human. Just like me. You’re suffering, just like me. You’ve been plagued with loss, just as I have. You held onto desperation, a way out of the pain. A way to bring back what cannot be… Just like me. I was afraid that I could turn into you. That I could be consumed by this pain of loss. But unlike you, I’m not alone. I have people who are right next to me. People who support me and care about me. I have people who have suffered the same way I have and can share those sins with me… But you… You have no one. You are alone in this world and are now going to meet a fate befitting of a lonely man. I suppose I feel… Sorry for you in a sense. Sorry that you didn't have a chance to repair your sins… Sorry that you couldn’t face what you had done. I couldn’t fathom it, a human being committing such horrendous acts. A human killing innocent women, a human having no issue harming another. A human just like me… But now I see what really matters, and it’s not you. You will rot here. You will be consumed by the sins you’ve committed. You will never get a chance to be happy again. But I’ve been given that chance. I’ve been given those people to help me. I could never be anything like you.”

Ed smiled slightly. Reinbuckle’s face was red with anger.

“It’s still all your fault! What happened to you and your brother!” He spatted.

“Yeah. It is my fault, but I’m gonna get our bodies back and pay back everyone who got us here. And I am gonna do it, not being afraid of you.” Ed quietly exited the room, Mustang trailing after with a slight smirk on his face. Reinbuckle was screaming at Edward, incoherent babbles, slowly diminishing to nothingness.

Ed knew what he had to focus on.

It was time to be the big brother Al needed.

Chapter 21: A Brother's Anguish

Summary:

Ed goes to find Al...

Notes:

Well that puts a bow on this one. Thanks for sticking around and being patient with me with chapters... Haha... New fanfics coming soon :)

Final Chapter: 

 

Ed walked down the hall with a bout of pride swelling in his chest. He felt like he had conquered the truth itself. Mustang was trailing behind him, a similar pep in his step. Although, Ed knew he couldn’t worry about his victory for now. He had more pressing matters to attend to. Where could an eight foot suit of armor go in such a short amount of time? 

 

“He ran out the door, where he went after that I couldn’t say.”  The man at the front desk huffed, annoyed that he was interrupted from his newspaper. Ed didn’t bother thanking the man before hurrying out. 

 

“Al!” He called, cupping his hands together to amplify his voice. “Where are you?! Al?!” Ed began walking around the side of the building, hoping to spot the suit of metal. He rounded the corner, relief flooding him as he spotted Al sitting against the brick wall of the prison. Shadows cascaded around him, leaving him in a shroud. Ed smiled and walked slowly up to his only brother. 

 

“For once it was me who had to chase you, huh?” Ed said, grunting as he moved to sit next to Al. He thunked his head gently against the brick. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Al said dejectedly. 

 

Ed chuckled, “what do you have to be sorry for? I should be the one that is sorry.” Ed toyed with the blades of grass beneath him. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit that I forgot about how you must be affected.” Al’s head rose,

 

“None of this is your fault, brother.” Al replied. 

 

“What you said back there… You keep getting punished for my decision back then. It’s my fault you are in that suit. It’s my fault we keep getting in these situations.” 

 

“Stop blaming yourself for that! I was just as much part of it as you were.” Al replied, his voice rising slightly. He sighed and raised his head to look at the clear, blue sky. “I just wish we would stop being reminded of it. When will we pay for it? Sure we gave up our bodies as a toll, but we are still paying the price. We have homunculus after us, crazed criminals after us… And we keep putting those we care about in danger because of it too… I just want it to stop…” 

 

Ed knocked on Al’s arm, metal meeting metal. “I’ll make sure it ends. I’ll get our bodies back and I won’t stop until we do.” 

 

“And you aren’t doing it alone!” Al said cheerfully. 

 

“We don’t have time to be moping around feeling sorry for ourselves!” Ed stood, puffing his chest out. His voice sounded more confident than it had in a long time. Al stood with him, the boys drew back their arms, meeting together in a fist bump.

“You boys ready?” Mustang called, staring at the boys from the corner. Ed turned and smiled. 

 

“Hell yeah we are! We have work to do! Right, bro?” 

 

“You know it!” 

 

Mustang smiled, the brothers were back in business.