Ah yes, another crossover of mine, this time with gasp FMA and Indiana Jones. Enjoy.

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The sun was beating down on his head. He continued to walk, hoping that he could find help if he made it to the small group of tents just ahead. He was alone. His brother had been taken by a group of people in armored cars. They hadn't taken him because his brother had sent him behind a rock at the last minute.

When he was about fifty yards away, he collapsed. He couldn't take the heat. His metal arm and leg were absorbing it at a great pace. He tried to stand back up but he couldn't. His eyes began to close as people came towards him.

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Henry Jones Jr. stood in front of his enemy, waiting for him to speak. He had been caught lurking just outside the camp, waiting for an opportunity to take back a rare artifact. This particular situation wouldn't be too hard to get out of, though. He just had to sit through a victory speech by the man standing in front of him.

Before the man got to speak, somebody came into the tent. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but we found something interesting nearby," he said, dropping a limp body onto the ground. Indiana looked at the unconscious figure for a moment. All he could see was that whoever it was had blonde hair and was very small. Before he could see anything else, his enemy signaled to the guards. "Take Mr. Jones to his tent for now, and get a doctor. This child is very close to dying."

"Yes, sir," the soldier replied, and roughly pulled Indiana out of the tent.

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Peterson stared at the unconscious boy on the cot. He watched as a doctor pulled the boy's coat off. Something was wrong. Why was he wearing such dark clothes in a desert? His eyes narrowed as he saw what was underneath the clothes. The boy's entire right arm was covered in metal.

"Hey, what's with that arm?" he asked the doctor, who stood straight.

"Looks like it's a prosthetic limb. Very advanced, though. I've never heard of this kind of technology."

"Where would he get something like this?"

"I have no idea. Maybe some secret organization? Either way, it's taking a toll on his body in this heat. You'll have to get him out of here if you want him alive next week."

"I wonder, though, is his life worth it?"

"Well, if he's got access to this kind of technology, there's a good chance he's very important."

Peterson took another look at the unconscious boy. Something about that face bothered him. He was such a small child, and yet he looked fairly mature. He thought about the advantages of having a hostage like this one. After a moment, he left the tent to give some orders to his men. They were going to drop off a couple of prisoners.

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Indiana looked quietly at the tiny bundle on the other side of the truck. He could tell it was the person from earlier by the hair, but why was he asleep? Was he still recovering from being out in the desert for who knows how long? He glanced at the rear end of the truck, where a guard was standing. That would prevent Indy from getting the kid out very easily.

Eventually, the truck stopped, and the guard got off for a while. With almost perfect timing, the kid rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"Hey, you all right, kid?" Indy asked. The kid pulled himself into a sitting position.

"No, not really. Where am I?"

"You're on a truck heading for Peterson's house in the city. I guess he decided that you're worth something to him, because he's keeping you alive."

"Who's Peterson?" the boy asked.

"Were you out cold through everything that happened today and yesterday?"

"I guess so. The last thing I remember is collapsing near some group of tents."

"And that's where they found you."

"But I'm confused. Why-" the boy cut his question short as the guard came back in. He looked at the kid for a second before calling out to another guard.

After a moment, the guard came into the truck and signaled for the boy to stand up. With a certain amount of unease, the boy stood up and followed the guard outside, looking back once at Indiana.

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They led him to a roofless car toward the front of the line of cars and trucks. Once there, they had him sit in the back seat. He obliged, still unsure of everything around him. After a moment, he realized he was sitting next to someone.

"So, you're awake. I was wondering if you'd ever move again," the man said as he handed the boy some water. "What's your name?"

"Edward. Edward Elric. Where the hell am I?"

"I'm not going to tell you that."

"Why not?"

The car was moving again. The man was silent for a while. "That arm, and that leg, too. Nobody's seen that kind of technology. How is it that such a young child like you can get your hands on it?"

Ed was quiet. Finally, he muttered, "Say I'm small again and I swear I'll break your face."

"What was that?"

"You really want to know where this is from?" Ed asked, pointing to his arm, which had been wrapped up tightly. Ed assumed it was so that he wouldn't accidentally burn himself.

"Yes, I do."

"A friend of mine made it. What, have you never seen automail before?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"What, you've never heard of it?"

"No. You're acting like it's well known technology. Where are you from?"

Ed was quiet. He didn't trust this person. Nothing so far had put this person in a favorable light. Ed rested his cheek on his hand and looked out across the horizon. All he could see was desert.

"Hey. I asked you a question."

"I don't see how it matters."

"Excuse me?"

"For some reason, I doubt you'd be willing to let me go home, so why do you need to know?"

The man laughed. "You don't know anything about the world, do you? No matter," he continued as Ed glared at him. "You've probably been sworn to secrecy or something, right?"

"No, I just don't trust you."

"Good thinking. Now, as for where you are right now, I think you can figure that out for yourself if you've been paying attention."

Ed looked around. Many of the people were wearing what seemed to be traditional clothing. These people also had fairly dark skin. He couldn't see their eyes.

"Ishbal…?" Ed muttered. The man looked at him with some curiosity.

"Did you just say Ishbal?"

"Yeah, I did."

To Ed's surprise, the man began laughing. "Making up names, huh? You really are a kid."

"What?"

"Kid, there's no such thing as Ishbal. Maybe you're thinking of Islam?"

"What? No, I mean Ishbal."

"Okay, okay, I'll let you believe that. Now, I'll ask you one more time. Where are you from?"

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Isn't it obvious? If you, some worthless kid who doesn't know anything about the real world, can easily get access to technology like this, then I want to know where this is so readily available."

Ed snorted. "I've never heard anyone say that getting automail is easy. Do you know how long it takes for most people to have it installed?"

"No. Why don't you tell me?"

Ed looked at his arm, thinking back to what Winry had told him years ago. "Three years, usually."

"Three years?"

"Yes. That's what I said. It's painful, too."

"And obviously not very convenient, considering how close you came to dying out there."

"Well, I didn't exactly intend to end up in the middle of a freaking desert. I don't even know how I got here."

The man laughed again. "Maybe you got here magically."

Ed continued to look out at the horizon. "I don't believe in magic."