"Who… are you?"

Havoc could see him, standing there in the dark amongst the rubble and destruction, a boy barely old enough to be considered an adult. Jean raised the barrel of his gun and aimed at his chest, though Jean doubted the familiar looking boy in front of him would give him any resistance. The Lieutenant glared at the boy in an act to look threatening, like the gun pointed at his rib cage didn't get that point across. "Get on the ground." His tone was that of a soldier, firm and commanding.

The boy raised his hands slowly and Jean could see the small tremble in the motion. Well at least he succeeded at something, right? Blue eyes gazed up at him as the blond boy slowly knelt to the ground, hair falling into his face. "Please… I don't know where I am…" a soft tremor in the young man's voice betrayed his fear.

"That's why I'm here kid. We don't know either."

General Roy Mustang eyed the young man in the chair across the table from him. The boy was bound by his wrists and seemed unable to sit still. He had been tugging and fiddling with his handcuffs for a good hour, mumbling to himself in an accent he had heard only once before.

"Where are you from, young man? What's your name?" Colonel Riza Hawkeye was standing behind Roy, her arms crossed. As always she emitted an air of power over those around her, Roy was glad she was on his side. Apparently these questions had already been answered but were being reissued for the General's benefit as he had just arrived by train not an hour earlier. The boy, who looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, was fussing with the glass of water they had set in front of him when they brought him in. He looked up when he's addressed and Roy could see the resemblance to the boy that he used to know, a boy and his brother.

"I am from München Deutschland… er… Germany… Munich," the boy corrected himself, having previously gotten looks of confusion from his other interrogators. "And my name is Alfons Heiderich." And with that the blond boy looked back down at the cup he was holding, suddenly fascinated with the rim of the glass.

Mustang and Hawkeye exchanged heavy glances as Roy made the connection. That's where the younger Elric brother reported to see Full Metal in his dreams during his disappearance. The General stood and left the room, wanting to discuss the matter in private.

"That's why we called you, Sir… we didn't want to make any decisions without your consent," Hawkeye's no nonsense posture seemed to vanish when they were alone and out of sight of the boy. "The Lieutenant found him while was inspecting that crash site just outside central. No one around seemed to be hurt and there were no traces of a normal explosion," She continued, not waiting for him to respond. "However, there were traces of Alchemic activity much like the ones Major Armstrong had witnessed almost year ago in Reole and what we witnessed right here in Central." Mustang shifted his weight as Hawkeye spoke, contemplating her words.

"You said 'crash site'?" He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall as he waited for her explanation.

She nodded, "The night before last, we observed something man made and metallic fall from the heavens. We sent Havoc's team out to survey the area where it fell to be sure it wasn't enemy fire."

"So no explosion, yet there were traces of Alchemy… What do you think, Colonel?"

The woman closed her coffee brown eyes in thought, "I can't be sure, Sir, but I doubt that he was sent by the enemy" She was careful with her next words, "I believe he was sent by Edward Elric, Sir. You know the gate was difficult to close on our side… perhaps… he finally found a way to close it." When she looked back up at her commanding officer, he seemed disturbed.

"Is that what you truly believe, Riza?" His tone was careful and measured. She watched him for a moment and then nodded. "Okay then, what is it that you suggest we do?"

The interrogation room was dimly lit, outside it was dark and the only light was from a single lamp on the table in front of the boy that called himself Alfons. The glass of water was nearly emptied but he continued to occupy himself with the remaining droplets. Lieutenant Havoc had leaned himself up against the far wall to watch the boy while his superiors discussed his fate, but couldn't help his growing curiosity. How had that boy survived that explosion with nothing but a scratch? His clothes were nearly pristine, though the knees had been scuffed up, courtesy of Jean Havoc. Was this kid scared? On first observation, it didn't seem so, he would fidget and shift but whenever he was addressed, he would look them straight in the eyes. That was not something a fearful person would do. Yet, when Jean had first spoken with him, Alfons had been shaking in fear and every so often would grab his chest as he spoke… perhaps a tick? The Lieutenant took a step forward, "Would you like some more water, Kid?"

"No thank you," His accent was strong and Havoc wondered idly if that meant English wasn't his first language. "But if it wouldn't be a bother… could you remove these?" He raised his bound wrists, making the chain clink against the table, "I have done nothing wrong… and I have to use the restroom."

Jean sighed, "Sorry Kid, not until the Chief gives me the go ahead." Alfons lowered his head in frustration and shifted uncomfortably. "But… everyone needs a bathroom break, right?" Jean nodded his head, "Stand up, I'll show you the way."

With a sigh of relief, Alfons stood up, keeping his arms close to his chest. Jean placed a hand just above Alfons's shoulder and led him out into the hall and towards the restrooms. "Why are they keeping me here like this? Have I done something wrong?" The boy kept his eyes forward, as they walked through the compound.

"Protocol, sorry Kid." Havoc reached into his pocket and pulled out an unlit cigarette to place between his lips. He hadn't had a break since he had brought the kid in and he was way past just an itch of a craving. When Alfons had found a spot to relieve himself, Jean walked over to the window and lit his cigarette. A deep breath sent a rush of Nicotine up to his head. Finally… He glanced at his detainee, who was sighing in relief. "I'm sure the chief will figure out what to do with you soon enough and we can get you out of those." Alfons looked over at the taller man as he spoke, "I'm sure you must be hungry too, I'll see if I can't find you some grub." Alfons smiled a little in thanks; at least someone was trying to be kind.

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