A/N: Full Summary:

Death rains down from the sky as war breaks loose. Drachma is battering at Amestris's defences-and then the skyships come. Towns are razed to the ground, hundreds die- and all the while the destruction draws closer, and closer.

Central is their target, if it falls - all is lost.

Two Alchemists are sent to destroy the source of the devastation. But when the mission goes drastically wrong a new plot is discovered…one far closer to home.

War with Drachma, Amestris can handle…but war with itself//eventually EdxRoy//

Please R n R, hope ya like!

Chapter One: Return to Earth

Time seemed to slow.

Everything began to fall in slow motion, hair streaming almost softly behind heads as eyes streamed. Glistening tears hovered behind them, glowing as a setting sun caught and held the crystalline light. It would have all been beautiful…if they hadn't been plummeting to their death.

War ships where one thing. Amestris was a landlocked country so they really didn't have to worry about them. But then Drachma created the air ships…it was war on wings, and with them the bombs began to fall.

There was no stopping them. Until the Alchemists came up with the gliders.

Oh, they had been brilliant, all sleek lines and lightweight metal, and just three arrays controlled them: right, left, and acceleration. And the rest had been distributing the alchemists' weight for up and down…the simplicity of affecting the craft and not the winds themselves is what made it so effective. The one mistake countless others had made in the past… and it all worked because of the control array etched across the wings. One simple array that made it all feather light.

They had worked perfectly. Absolutely perfectly, and with them, the chosen two alchemists had been able to sore up like birds and sneak into the enemies war ships that sailed on clouds instead of seas.

Of course the nation had sent the Flame and Full Metal alchemist's, it was just common sense when the gliders where created by Full Metal and his brother, and explosions where the Flames specialty. But common sense didn't always mean the choice was a smart one.

Everything had gone off without a hitch, five ships had been taken down, and only one remained flying.

Almost the whole fleet-taken out one by one as the two swooped between their ranks and snuck aboard each of them in turn. They crept through the labyrinth of corridors, taking out guards, placing arrays and then took off-a single 'snap' finishing the job.

The sky was red with flames, the sun scarlet with smoke. The fallen enemy ships littering the countryside behind them.

There had only been one left, steadily steaming towards Central, its deadly cargo just waiting to be dropped. Propellers were spinning madly at double pace-knowing that it was the last of its fleet-trying vainly to outrun the dangerous pair.

It had been easy to catch the fleeing skyship, the gliders where far superior when it came to speed.

Everything was in place, every array drawn and in position. Boilers where marked. Stock rooms, armouries and balloon walls filled with hydrogen-all marred by Amestris's explosive joint arrays.

All the Flame alchemist had needed to do was click.

A small, sharp sound and they would have disposed of the biggest threat to Amestris. One snap….just one.

But it had been a gunshot that sounded when the time came. And with that, they where both dead. The Flame alchemist had fallen to the ground without a sound at all, his gloves slowly turning crimson beneath him as his chest rose and fell raggedly…and then stopped.

One bullet had taken down two winged birds.

Edward had fallen to his knees with a yell, the mission forgotten as Mustang bled in his arms. The guards had had the audacity to laugh at him. LAUGH!

Roy Mustang was dead…and if he wasn't dead yet, he was on the fast road to dying.

Ed had leapt to his feet and then at the guard, blind with rage, fury and hurt. His mind had been left at its knees beside the Colonel and the only thing spurring his enraged body on was alchemy, metal and a rasping painful breath that tore from his lungs. One by one he cut the guards down, all with the blade on his arm so he could say that the murderers blood was truly on his hands. Grating the length of metal against the hull of the ship he dragged out sparks. He was almost blinded with rage as he finished what the Flame alchemist hadn't had the chance too. Ed fell back to his knees and clasped Roy in his arms as the air ship went up in a ball of flame.

Funny how ironic the world was, Ed thought dully as the world blew apart around him, the smell of burning flesh arid in his nose. The Colonel held tightly in his arms.

The very sky itself seemed like it was one fire, almost in tribute to the two as they fell.

And then he realised he was falling, he wasn't dead. Edward really hadn't expected to live though the explosion, usually they where flying away when detonation came about. But somehow they both had escaped the twisted metal that was falling like rain around them.

For a moment Ed worried about the village below and the wreckage that could destroy people and houses…even when the blasted warships had been destroyed, it was going to take more lives anyway.

And then the full situation came back to him. He was falling, a dead or dying Mustang in his arms, from 30 thousand feet.

And he couldn't breathe.

The air was going too fast, slipping over his face without letting him breath any of it in. he was gasping, crying, shaking, hands clutching frantically at his commander…hands slick with blood.

The roaring wind in his ears was almost as loud as his frenzied heartbeat. His mind was frozen in place, and no matter how heard he tried; he couldn't make it thaw any faster.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling…

The glider. He still had part of his strapped to his back. But the wings themselves were back on what was left of the ship, most likely a few hundred feet below him…hidden somewhere in the tangled wreckage.

If he could let go of Mustang for a second he could clap his hands and use what was left of the debris around him to make another set of wings…or at least activate the lesser arrays on his back and control his fall somewhat.

But he couldn't let go of Mustang, what if he couldn't catch him again?

But what choice did he have? If there was any chance that the Colonel was still alive-his throat tightened uncontrollable as he contemplated the idea of holding a corpse so close- he had to make sure they landed in one piece first.

And so Edward forced his hands to release the death grip he held in Mustangs' uniform and watch him fall away, before his mind finally kicked back in and he flipped in the air. With his back to the ground, air gushed into his thirsty lungs. His hands worked on their own accords as array after array formed in his head, all intricacies and lines perfectly composed and clapped his hands, feeling the alchemy tingle up his arm, and meld between his hands, drawing the metal towards himself and catching it, moulding it, shaping it as quickly as his fumbling hands would allow.

And as he did it all he knew Mustang was falling further and further away from himself, most likely suffocating or turning uncontrollably …he pushed the thought aside and focused, trying to create something that had taken him and Al weeks to finish, in seconds.

As he inscribed the last array into the irregular wing he spun around in mid air again, taking as big a lungful as he could first. Just in case he didn't get another.

Edward pushed his limbs in as tightly as possible to his sides, arrowing himself down towards the Colonels gently tumbling form.

Vertigo made his head spin as he shot forward, cutting though the air like his blade had a mans chest.

And suddenly Mustang collided with his chest and his automail arm had snaked around him, holding him so tightly he was sure he heard a rib break. No time to worry about that, he realised as he activated one last array on his makeshift wings, connecting it firmly with the brace that he still wore on his back.

A moment of horrible vibration made him close his eyes, the air current zooming across the wings uneven surface and threatening to tear it apart. Wrapping his other arm around Roy he prayed. He actually prayed to what ever god would listen, that the wings could hold out under twice the weight it was supposed to hold, and that the arrays he'd placed would work.

Al was the one who came up with the wings; he thought frantically. Al had created all the theory, all the calculations and worked out the fiddley details. Ed had mainly put them together, having always found the Alchemy itself to come more naturally, adding ideas and tweaking existing ones where he could. And even then, it had taken weeks to get the pair of gliders perfect-each individually made to match their pilots- compensating for different weights, heights and-

A horrendous groan of metal tearing against metal filled his ears and sent shivers down his ridged spin. The wings almost gave out.

And then the sound stopped and he realised that…that

His panicky thoughts stalled. Everything stopped.

It was working.

They where slowing down, their decent was evening out

Edward began to laugh, thick hysterical laughter that tore at his tender throat. It had worked. They weren't going to die-but that thought sobered his mood very quickly. Sure, maybe he wasn't going to die…but what about the Colonel?

Edward allowed his metal arm to lock into position to free his left arm, nothing could make him let go.

With fingers numb from the icy wind Ed fumbled at Mustang's throat, trying to find a pulse now that he had a moment to try. Nothing. Not even a soft fluttering. Ed felt like his heart was being torn to shreds and then each piece burnt individually. Colonel Roy Mustang could NOT be dead. Not after such a successful mission! Not from one lousy bullet from some untrained guard!

His fingers where numb…maybe the steady pulse was there, just below the surface, even and rhythmic. Yes, that was it, Mustang wasn't dead, it was just his fingers that were numb. Yes…

He was so cold though…but so am I! That doesn't mean anything!

The ground was beginning to take on definition, he could see the trees and fences and houses in the distance. Touching an array on the strap across his shoulder the wings turned, angling themselves towards the village, and soon that too became defined. He could see a farmer a good thirty feet below him.

As the gliders shadow passed over him he looked up in amazement, dropped his plough in fright and wiping off his hat better a better view. Normally Edward would have smiled and waved, showing off the Elric born creation strapped to his back with a loop or something equally impressive. But at that moment the Colonel was the only thing being successfully processed in his mind.

"PLEASE! I NEED A DOCTOR!" he yelled, feeling a twinge of self disgust at the frantic and almost–no, completely hysterical note in his voice.

For a moment the farmer just stood there, jaw agape before Ed saw his eyes focus on Mustangs uniform, and his own. And then the man actually saluted, and ran off, much faster than Edward would have thought possible for such an elderly looking man.

But Ed didn't have anytime to ponder that, he touched the left array again and kept heading towards the town. All he needed to do now was find somewhere to land, a nice stretch of road, or maybe that field of whatever vegetable over there…and then his heart wrenched with the metal above his head.

The two alchemists dropped two feet in two seconds, Ed leaving his stomach above him.

The wings were about to give out.

Hoping beyond hope that the glider would hold out for a few more moments, Ed angled himself at as steep an angle that was possible, that was safe, that was survivable. The twisting of metal was thick in his ears, as he willed they move faster, even as he pressed his hand to the centre array which did just that…

"COME ON! COME ON! ALMOST THERE!" he yelled, eyes wide as he gauged they where still at least twelve feet up- he was sure he could handle that far a drop…but Roy? In the condition he was in? The still alive and breathing condition that he HAD to be in?

But for whatever reason-or maybe someone was out there just wanted to spite Edward-the wings tore off from the straps that restrained them, and then they plummeted through the air.

Ed closed his eyes and braced himself for impact, having already turned in mid air so he was the first to hit the ground. His arms tightened around Mustang momentarily before together, they finally returned to earth.

Muhahahah. A fun ending no? the second chapter is written! i just need to get it edited/read through. if Anyone is interested in this please contact me. Oh, and the title is a work in progress an may/will change. That was immensely fun to write

Reviews make everything better.

hope ya liked!

Cooper