A/N – This is just another one of my random ideas. Instead of my first FMA story though, which was a oneshot, and my second, a drabble collection, I felt like I could flesh a whole multi-chapter fic out of it. I feel like it's sort of a weird ideas, but an interesting one.

So, yes, this one is, like my first story, slightly AU. Maybe a little more so than Blindside was. I just do my best work writing stories closer to current day, so, once again, it's like FMA in our day and age. More modern. Enjoy. ^_^


Chapter One – Rude Awakening

In General Roy Mustang's office, it was quiet. On any other day he'd gladly accept that. Tonight, it kind of bothered him. What with the war going on in Drachma, he had a lot to think about. The Drachma/Amestrian Non-Aggression Pact had been thrown out the window once it was learned that said country had been stockpiling weapons and that they intended to use them. As usual the Fuhrer ordered direct action, sending out squads of troops to the border.

It'd been going on for a little more than a month by now. Little fights between small groups. They weren't quite at all-out war yet, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time. The higher ups were freaking out. They knew they were bluffing; Drachma could easily overpower Amestris if something didn't change. They'd been ready for this war for years. Amestris hadn't.

Roy wasn't plotting military tactics, though, or coming up with devious strategies to help his country win. He was wondering how his team was. Central had taken them all from him; Breda, Falman, Havoc, Furey, Riza... His entire squad had been deployed. They'd been among the first to leave. That was what his mind was stuck on.

It was getting late, anyway, and he knew he should take his leave. It wasn't like he was getting tons of work finished. He'd go home, get a few hours of sleep and then head back to work. That was the plan. He started pushing papers around in at least what seemed like some kind of organization, getting ready to head out.

Without any kind of warning, he heard his door click open, and he looked up to the source of the noise. He was almost relieved to watch Edward Elric step in, the only one of his subordinates not lost to the draft. He'd been out of town. He must have just come in. The seventeen year old had grown considerably since he'd been scouted out for the state alchemist program. Sure, maybe not a whole lot heightwise, but he'd grown. He bright eyes were sharper, more focused, even though they still maintained that energetic glow. His body was well toned and taken care of thanks to countless hours of sparring sessions and hand-to-hand field combat. His long hair was thrown together in a messy ponytail, thick, platinum bangs framing his face. He'd grown strong, swift, and brave, intelligent and logical beyond his years. It made Roy proud.

It made Roy not want to lose him because he still had so much more left to do. He didn't say so, however. Instead he placed the back of one hand casually under his chin, crossing his legs under his desk. "Fullmetal." he greeted, "To what do I owe the visit?"

"I just came in from Pendleton the other day." Ed replied, "I'd finished my mission early, and when I got back to Central I heard about what was going on in Drachma. On the border."

"That." Roy replied, sarcastically reminding himself what a lovely conversational piece that little incident made among soldiers. "Yes. We're at war again. That's not necessarily what we're saying to our citizens, but don't delude yourself."

"That's what I thought. I guess I just wanted to hear it from you, too."

"Yeah, well..." There was a short pause. Ed had stood by his thou-shalt-not-kill beliefs as long as Roy could remember. War had a way of changing even the strongest of pacifists. He wondered what the seventeen year old would do, what he would really do, if he was confronted in the front lines. Save his own people? Not snap out of it until it was too late? There was no talking about your feelings in a war zone.

"Everyone says we're winning. That our troops shouldn't be gone long." Ed brought up, trying to lighten the mood. These were rumors he was hearing. Roy wished they were true.

"We're not." he said. "It's harder just to hold our ground than we'd imagined. They're gonna start pushing us back into out own territory soon, and if they keep on pushing we might wind up closer to Central than we like."

Ed nodded. "Does that mean you're gonna head out?"

"I don't know." Roy replied. He didn't want to talk about it, because then he'd go home thinking about it. He switched topics. "How was Pendleton?"

Ed shrugged. "I left everything the same as it was when I got there. It's a boring town, full of boring people. Nothing helpful at all." He sat down on the couch, knowing this was gonna be a long one.

"Be that as it may, Fullmetal, I still-"

"You expect a report, yeah, I know. I'll have it done within the week. Don't bitch if it's short."

"I won't."

"You wouldn't happen to have anything else so interesting in your little pile there, would you?"

"Not this time." Roy replied, explaining, "State Alchemists are under orders to remain in Central. We need to be ready for orders."

Ed rose an eyebrow. He hadn't been expecting that. "Wow." he said, "I guess that means I'm free to go then, doesn't it?" he asked. They both knew, though, that he'd rather be taking on another mission than preparing for war.

"Yeah." the General replied. He watched Ed nod, the blonde wordlessly standing up and heading out to leave. He lowered his hand back to the desk. Just before Ed left, he couldn't help wanting to say something to the seventeen year old. "Be careful, Fullmetal."

Ed was confused for a second. He looked back at Roy, thought about what he'd said, then smiled. "I always am." he replied.


When Ed was growing up, he'd never imagined himself as a soldier. When he became a soldier, he'd still never expected himself to face any kind of war. Now, it was almost staring him in the face, so close he could see it's effects everywhere. Roy could, too. He knew it. That only made him feel worse.

When he'd come home from Pendleton he hadn't expected much to change. It never really did. He'd grown used to that, expected it. He'd always known that by signing up with the military he'd agreed to become pretty much a walking weapon, it was what state alchemists were known for, even more so than infantry men, but now it seemed so much more real.

He didn't wanna think about it. He was tired. He'd think about it tomorrow.

Central HQ was a huge place, with a huge parking lot. Ed had never seen it so empty before. Of course, he was usually gone so late at night, but there also weren't as many people working here as usual. It almost felt eerie. He could hear his footsteps echo, soft and steady, as he approached his car. His keys already in hand, he unlocked it.

Sometimes, he felt like all these problems just piled on top of each other. He never had enough time to handle all of them. It was stressful, to say the least. Sometimes he felt like instead of constantly deliberating this crap over and over in his head he needed to talk to someone about it. But, then again...

He sighed under his breath. It didn't matter. He didn't feel like overthinking it. He reached down for the handle, pulling the car door open. Before he could get in, someone grabbed him from behind.

He almost didn't even register it.

His breath caught in his throat as strong arms wrapped around his waist, a hand pressing something to his mouth. A towel. Damp. He instinctively held his breath, started to struggle. He was an alchemist. He could handle this.

As soon as he moved his hands they were restrained, grabbed by others. His eyes widened. Whatever this was, it was a group effort. He was getting dizzier by the second. He tried to pull his hands free but it was no use. His wrists hurt from how tightly they were gripped. Doing the only thing he could think of doing, he flung his head back, connecting with the front of his assailant's face. The man bit back a pained cry. He regained himself quickly and took charge yet again. Ed was borderline passed out. His vision darkened. He had no choice but to take in a breath, which he immediatley regretted.

It felt awful. It burned, and the darkness intensified a hundredfold.

As he lost consciousness, fear easily overtook him. Whoever these men were, they'd known enough about him to restrain his hands. That meant they knew he was an alchemist. They'd studied him before this, to get ready for this. They must want something from him. What the hell did they want, then? He had no idea...


Deep under Central Command, there is a second Headquarters, known about only by a handful of Fuhrer Bradley's men and a secret to the rest of the world. It's a rather busy place regardless, and big. Not exactly teeming with people, but those who were involved in it were among the best and the brightest, at least when State Alchemists were excluded.

Up until now.

In one of the secret HQ's many rooms, Fuhrer Bradley and Major Solf J. Kimblee stood in front of a small handful of skilled scientists and doctors, in the middle of a discussion. The room was brightly lit. The walls, like the floor, were padded. The only real object in the room was a bed that strongly resembled one you might come across in a hospital, except it wasn't meant for nearly such noble a cause.

It was meant to restrain. On the bed lay Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist and newest appointed test subject. He was in a forced state of sleep and should be waking soon. An IV ran through one of his hands. His wrists were strapped down to the bed. No need for any alchemy problems when he came to, because he definitley would be anything but happy. He'd been brought in that night by a squad of Bradley's more covert soldiers, under false pre-tenses, and one of the men who'd been on the neutralization team needed to have his nose patched up on arrival. It'd been broken. Bradley didn't care. Kimblee didn't care. So long as they were one step closer to where they needed to be.

Bradley watched a smirk cross one side of Kimblee's lips. It was cold, animalistic, and he didn't know how he should feel about it. Everything about the man was twisted. Everything about him was crazy, but sometimes that insight was far more valuable than any sane soldier's. Maybe this time, though, he'd let him go to far.

"I'm still unsure as to our kidnapping the Fullmetal Alchemist for this." the Fuhrer said. "He's already valuable to us as he is."

Kimblee shook his head no, eyeing the seventeen year old's sleeping form. "Not as valuable as he could be. This, just like it's doing for so many other soldiers, will unlock his full potential, and he will be indespensable."

"I'm still a bit worried." he insisted, "You know Colonel Mustang is never happy unless he knows everything that's going on. He's one of those nosy types..."

"Not to worry. He can be handled. Edward is a perfect match for this, it would be a shame to pass him up."

There was a short pause. The Fuhrer supposed Kimblee was right. He paused for a split second, and then figured he may as well take his leave. He trusted the man's judgement. He'd never done him wrong before. "Very well." he replied.

Their discussion, and Bradley's departure, were cut short by a soft moan escaping Ed's lips, the blonde slowly coming to. Bright golden eyes fluttering open, trying to adjust to the bright light that flooded the room, he turned his head towards the wall. It took him a second, but he remembered why he was here. What happened in the parking lot. He tried to move only to find his wrists bound to the bed, and he pulled harder. It was no use.

Kimblee spoke up first. "Good evening, Fullmetal," he said. Ed turned to the sound of his voice, their eyes locking, Ed's in a death glare, Kimblee's uncaring and cold, "and welcome to the beginning of your new life." he finished.

"New life?" Ed demanded, "What the fuck are you talking about?" He pulled against the restraints again, hard. "Kimblee," he said, and just the way he said his name expressed so much; his frustration, his confusion, a newfound hatred for the man he'd never liked to beging with. His eyes settled on Fuhrer Bradley next. Needless to say, he was shocked, "What is going on here?" he struggled to keep his voice level and calm."Where am I?"

"All of your questions will be answered in due time. Not now." Bradley said, then to Kimblee, his voice low, "I have to leave. I have many thing I need to take care of."

"Sir." the Major casually replied, and with that Bradley began to exit the room.

Kimblee figured he may as well head out, too. He nodded towards one of the few doctors in the room. "Just get a few vitals, establish a base line."

"Don't you dare touch me." Ed cut in, as the doctor stood up and approached him. Kimblee watched with interest. He wanted to see what Ed would do. The kid was interesting. He tried to back off from the doctor, to keep him from touching him. He had no problem with struggling.

The doctor turned to his partner. "I might need some help." he said.

Kimblee watched the two doctors try to restrain Ed, watched the blonde keep struggling to fight it off. He screamed, he swore, he kicked. He injured another one of Kimblee's not-so-disposable men. This wasn't exactly the most open of operations, and these people couldn't just be replaced at the drop of a dime. Kimblee sighed. "Hold him down. I'll give him another sedative." he said.

There was a medical cabinet against the wall behind him. He pulled open the top drawer and found an empty syringe. Next to it was a small vial. Amobarbital Sodium Injection, the lable read, a barbituate derivitive perfect for its many uses. The lab was stocked full of Amytal for just these kinds of experiments. He poked the needle through the top of the vial, filling the syringe. Ed's arms were held down. His legs were held down. He was hardly moving. Kimblee approached the teen with ease, crouching down and brushing Ed's shirt sleeve up to expose his arm. He felt for the right spot. He ignored Ed's screams of protest, and pushed the needle through sensitive skin with a smirk.

He rather enjoyed the noise that escaped Ed's lips next; a long, slightly pained, slightly shocked cry, his breath hitching as he slid the needle back out. The small wound began to bleed. Just a little. Ed moaned, soft, his head rolling to one side. Kimblee had given him plenty of the serum. In a few minutes he'd be unconscious again. And with that, he took his leave.


Well, that chapter was a bit short. I wanted them to be longer. I suppose I can think of this as an introduction of sorts. Currently, I'm plotting out future chapters, trying to keep them as solid as possible, because when I started I only really had a general idea where I wanted it to go. I've had to do a lot of research but I think it'll pay off. Make the story better, all that good stuff. ^_^