Roy woke up with the mother of all headaches and the distinct feeling that everything was somehow fundamentally wrong.
He thought about not opening his eyes on the basis that if nothing from this moment onward changed, nothing would also go wrong and even if it did, he could maybe avoid dealing with it. Unfortunately, while he was still imagining the faces people would make as he told them "I know I am a decorated Brigadier General and a responsible, grown man besides, but I really, really didn't feel like getting up and dealing with anything," he recalled that the events leading up to this moment had included Edward bursting in and tackling a Cretan alchemist straight into the large array he'd just activated. The one Roy had been laying in the middle of. Laying, on his back, with his hands tightly bound. Not, as he was now, sprawled on his front on top of something uncomfortable. His hands were distinctly unbound. Stings and aches from all over his body were crowding his head all at once, mixing up and creating a mess he had trouble sorting through. It was more than pain – a horrible confusion filled him. Like waking up somewhere you don't remember falling asleep, except amplified. It should be fading as he gathered his bearings. It was not fading.
Regardless of the inexplicable sensations contributing to the pervasively hanging wrongness, there was a subordinate here whose well-being he was responsible for. Roy cracked an eye open just a sliver and croaked "Fullmetal?"
Immediately, he regretted not going with his original plan of waiting indefinitely to see if things would work out on their own, partly because his headache spiked with a vengeance, but also because his understanding of the world and its structure was tilting alarmingly. The voice that came from his mouth was not the one he'd had his whole life.
His eyes snapped open. He held his breath and took in the sight in front of him while holding very still. Some bright spots faded away to reveal the surface his head was resting on. It was fabric-covered and uneven. Beyond that on the chalk-covered floor was laying his left arm. Except that it wasn't his. He had been wearing his night clothing, consisting of a short-sleeved shirt and loose pants, on account of the midnight abduction. This arm was in the official blue sleeve of a military uniform. The hand was also… wrong. Roy twitched a finger and saw it move. Fine. That's fine. He could work with that.
Bracing his left elbow beneath him, Roy lifted himself enough to see what he was laying on. It was a dead body. Somehow, this was less harmful for his crumbling composure than the too-long hair that had fallen into his eyes as he'd shifted. His head had rested on the lower torso, while his right hand was… his… his right…
How…
Static filled his head as he stared at the hand which was made of steel and sported a familiar transmuted blade, sunk deep into the corpse's chest and stained red with fresh blood.
Roy jerked upright, making a distressed sound – with Edward's voice – and the metallic arm followed him stiffly, jarring the shoulder – Edward's shoulder – causing the blade to slide out of the dead body. Roy stared, and focused on not hyperventilating for a moment. The- the arm- Roy's- the… focus, breathe, focus now, the automail had sunk deep between two ribs and the force of the tackle and fall combined had apparently caused it to rip violently sideways. The man couldn't have lived long afterwards.
Roy turned to the bloodied, metallic appendage. Now, looking at it, Roy realized he could feel where his shoulder simply stopped existing and became a steel construction. At the edge, there was something deep and constant, and the rest was simply… gone. The hand was a tight fist beneath the blade, and though Roy realized he was getting a sort of pressure feedback from it, telling him the palm and fingers were meeting resistance, it was faint and rudimentary – no variation, texture, or temperature. A void. A second one had replaced his left leg. Bile was rising in his throat.
Swallowing numbly, Roy tried to command the fist to unclench. His first attempt did nothing, but the second one made the hand relax, along with the rest of the arm, causing it to fall limp at his side. Giving it up for now to avoid the hysteria building in his mind, he focused instead on the left hand. It wasn't shaped quite like he was used to – more graceful, but still solid and calloused. There was no large scar on the palm.
He was still staring at the hand, wondering if his- the whole body was trembling the same way it was, when he heard a deep voice nearby say "Musta- ", and then cut off midway. Whipping his head around in the voice's direction left him looking at, apparently, himself.
Seeing his own body looking back at him was disconcerting to say the least. It was still bound to rings in the floor by its wrists and ankles. The head was craned to better stare at him with his own wide eyes, innumerable thoughts flickering across the familiar-yet-strange visage. Someone was clearly occupying his body while he himself was… not. Since he found himself in Edward's flesh, did that mean they had switched? Except, Roy thought with a lurch of fear, the Cretan alchemist had still been alive and inside the array with them when it activated. But Ed was surely fine, because he was Ed, and he had to be…
"Fullmetal?" Roy ventured, and the unmasked worry in his voice was there definitely only because he didn't know how to properly control these damned new vocal chords. He searched the face in front of him and didn't think about how much this was not like looking in a mirror because he could freak out at some later date all he wanted as long as he didn't do it right now. His face's current owner had apparently worked through the shock and other assorted emotions and settled on something like annoyed determination.
"This is just goddamn typical, isn't it? Of fucking course I didn't manage to divert the transmutation and it causes bullshit like this, because why wouldn't the universe take a piss on my day at every fucking opportunity it gets! You bastard better not wreck my body, I need all my remaining shit as intact as possible."
Oh, thank god.
It was suddenly very simple to slip into a familiar, teasing dialogue with Ed. "I'm glad you're all right Fullmetal, and coming to grips with this unexpected new turn so swiftly. May I also say that you wear my features very well – you look positively dashing." Hearing Ed's particular griping speech patterns, even if the voice was all wrong, was relief enough to get Roy feeling more like himself again. His reward for his wittiness was an exasperated eyeroll. Seeing it improved his mood more than he'd like to admit. Roy noted with wonder that his face managed to scrunch up in a very Ed way.
"You've been outside your own body for maybe five minutes and already you're talking about your own face. I see your priorities are in order as usual, Mustang. And, well, a few years of running around after weird alchemic shit at least makes you get pretty quick on the uptake with all kinds of crap. No time to get fucking existential about this shit. So, is that fucker dead?" Ed asked nodding toward the Cretan alchemist.
"Ah, well, yes, that seems to be what occurs when one sinks a sharp object into a ribcage with bodily force" Roy offered, gesturing weakly at the dripping automail blade.
Ed's - Roy's? - eyes dimmed slightly, but he groused "There wasn't exactly time to fuck around with something nicer since I barely made it in time as it was. The other shitheads gloated about their big plan while they tried to off me, so I knew I'd have to hurry and save your ass before things went to shit. Not that this isn't, y'know, a disaster as is. And could you hurry up and get me out of these things already?" Ed demanded, twisting to show his bound hands. "Your old-ass bones apparently don't much appreciate laying around on cold floors being all tied up."
"Don't I know it," Roy muttered under his breath. The brat had some nerve, mocking his age and growling in his usual crass manner using Roy's smooth voice to do so – though the stressful situation was no doubt responsible for the excessive amount of swearing. Still, it was disrespectful, disgraceful, and completely in keeping with Edward's usual behaviour. Insubordinate little gnat. Roy began to lever himself up to his feet, but his progress quickly halted as the automail knee refused to cooperate. How embarrassing. "I, ah… Edward?"
"What?" came the terse response, but Ed's scowl turned thoughtful when he spotted the problem. "Oh yeah, you have no idea how to work those. Damn. Just give your brain a second to figure it out, I guess. Moving them isn't exactly like moving normal limbs but, ah, it's not something you can explain real easy. At least my body has all the right connections already somewhere, you just need to find them. I'll wait right here, not like I'm fuckin' going anywhere…" Ed trailed off mutinously, but his brows remained furrowed and his eyes fixed intently on Roy. It was a relief that Ed still wore his expressions so plainly – it made reading him easy even when Roy had to do it from completely new features. Roy himself was having enough trouble with getting constantly blindsided with some variation of I look like that?! in his head that he was trying to keep from sight. It wasn't like it was all negative, but this experience was certainly giving him new perspective, if nothing else. Hah.
Roy turned his focus on learning to use the new kinds of limbs he'd suddenly been saddled with. The sensation was indeed indescribable, but he did manage to eventually translate movement commands into a form the automail seemed to accept. It was a far cry from the effortless power and grace Ed displayed with them every day, but movement had indeed been achieved.
Edward was apparently done with being patient and piped up when Roy had wobbled his way to his feet and was looking at the hand, trying to make it close or open only partway. "Fuckin' sweet, now lurch on over here and cut me loose already Mr. look-I-figured-out-standing."
Roy gave him a stink eye out of principle and took a stab at walking. It took far too much concentration to take the required few steps to Ed, and the best that could be said for him was that he managed not to fall down. Finding a balance with the mismatched limbs was a challenge that would take more than a few seconds to master. The leg stump yielded a highly unusual sensation when it took his weight – it didn't register as pain, but it wasn't simply pressure either. The weight imbalance was also giving him trouble. All in all, Roy felt that he deserved some pats on the back for doing as well as he had.
"Wohoo, nice going, I'd give you some applause if my fucking hands weren't tied. Stop being a smug bastard and help me."
You could always trust Ed to give praise as it was due.
Roy kneeled very carefully and used the arm blade to cut through the wrist bindings equally carefully, mindful of his jerky movements. Ed sat up impatiently and freed his ankles himself with a quick clap. He then jumped up, stretching, and exclaimed, "Holy hell, Mustang! Would it kill you to take care of yourself? You aren't getting any younger you know, get up from that desk of yours sometimes."
Roy had a scathing remark lined up for that, but it froze in his throat because he'd stood up and here they were, face to face, and… Roy honestly felt like laughing. It was insane, wasn't it? Here they were, looking at their own bodies through each other's literal eyes because, what, some hostile alchemist had attacked him with an unpredictable array and Fullmetal's rescue had gone just wrong enough? It was all so senseless and unbelievable and funny.
How the hell were they going to get out of this?
To start with, they were alone in enemy territory in an unknown part of a foreign country. Roy had been chosen to represent Amestris in a diplomatic meeting with the Lord Protector of Creta. The meeting was the result of continuing efforts to improve foreign relations and change Amestris for the better. Unfortunately, the whole journey was as dangerous as it was important, especially since it was not especially well looked upon to bring dozens of soldiers to a peace-minded meeting arranged in good faith.
The fractured nature of Creta meant that to reach the seat of its central power from Amestris, one had to travel through several territories belonging to Cretan tribes that were used to having a lot of independent power within their borders and that, as neighbours to Amestris, held considerable bad blood towards her thanks to the many wars and border disputes scattered throughout their violent history. It had been a lengthy and tiring balancing act to secure a passage to Creta's capital from all the necessary territories and travel was made slow as every local ruling party demanded that they stop for official greetings and niceties if they passed through their lands. Many of the arrangements had been made grudgingly, and Roy knew his own fame had hindered them in part – though Creta had not faced the Flame Alchemist in battle, there were many less flattering names for the Hero of Ishval where the military's propaganda did not reach.
Yet, who better to send than Brigadier General Mustang, who was well defended even on his own, held the required authority for such talks, and had political skills to spare?
…And if in the end this left Roy with the notable achievement of arranging a peace treaty, well; that was clearly a happy side effect of serving the needs of his country.
As for Fullmetal, Major Elric's presence at Roy's side was these days less surprising than one might think. Ever since the Promised Day and the precluding events, they had achieved mutual respect and understanding. They had even, heaven forbid, spoken honestly to each other. The result was a clearer air between them. In the end Ed had somehow decided that Roy was worthy of his confidence and support – a mystery to be sure – and remained at his command to support his bid for Fuhrership instead of resigning. Without the all-consuming quest ruling over his focus, Fullmetal proved to be an irreplaceable ally and asset. Roy struggled to understand how Edward saw Roy and his desperate mission as a thing worthy of his support, but all the same he tried to repay the young man for the honour. Roy trusted him and confided in him in a way that would've been impossible with the angry, brilliant child Ed had been. It hardly felt like enough, but still Edward remained at his side, loyal and somehow even seemingly content.
These days they had even achieved a respectable capacity for teamwork. When Fullmetal wasn't solving problems the way only a state alchemist could in Roy's name, he stuck close, helping with his alchemy, automail fist, intelligence and reputation, all in equal measure. Incidentally, that's why Ed was here on this little trip in the first place. Officially he came as Roy's security detail, and performed that job admirably, but he was also there to help in the negotiations. Having the famous People's Alchemist at your side was rarely a bad thing in diplomatic encounters, at least when Edward restrained himself from spoiling his own image by being rude and aggressive. His self-control was still occasionally hit-or-miss, but Roy appreciated that Ed was putting in effort for his sake when it mattered.
How they both came to be captured by these fools was less clear. He remembered waking up briefly in his hotel room at their third pitstop in as many territories as two people grabbed him while he was asleep. He had struggled against them but the best he had managed was a bit of thrashing before he'd had to breathe in through the cloth in his face. What he saw before consciousness fled suggested a well-planned, quiet operation that was unlikely to alert anyone – even Edward, who had taken the neighbouring room. Had they targeted them both? It was technically possible that they had sneaked up on Ed the same way they had on him, but somehow it was difficult to imagine such an endeavour ending well for them.
In any case, they were here now – the two of them, in the wrong bodies, stranded who knows where and in deep trouble.
Honestly, Roy couldn't manage much distress. He was with Edward. What did he have to fear?
Even their alarming situation with the bodies felt surmountable – Ed was an alchemical genius, and the leading authority on pushing through difficulties and finding a way. Roy could admit he himself was out of his depth. He knew many strange and terrible things that could be done with alchemy, including Edward's work with his brother's soul, but it was hard to imagine how this had been achieved. Could their souls have been ripped out and slammed into different bodies? And what about their minds, and memories? Wasn't soul binding unstable? Roy hoped Ed would figure out this nonsense because all Roy achieved was aggravating his dimming headache. He'd like to say that shit like this didn't happen, but… Well. He knew Fullmetal.
Meanwhile, it seemed like Edward was having an internal struggle. Roy observed idly as Ed dragged Roy's features through a slew of expressions they normally had no business displaying with such freedom. Roy had a feeling that, having worked through the more serious issues, Ed was now biting back something mocking about their current relative heights but had to restrain himself. He no doubt knew Roy would never let it go if he insulted his own height.
There wasn't even that much difference between them anymore – a few centimetres, maybe. Ed wasn't as touchy about it anymore, but he still insisted that one day he'd catch up.
Roy knew better.
Surfacing from his thoughts at last, Ed shook himself with a huff and grabbed Roy's arm to transmute the blade away. He gave a mutinous look and muttered, "At least you have to look up at me now."
It was painful, but Roy managed not to take the opening. They really had more important things to do than sniping at each other. "Report, Fullmetal. What do you know?"
Ed squared his new shoulders. "I incapacitated three men outside. They dragged me out to shoot me, but they were nervous – not the same guys that took us from the hotel. These ones kept talking and delaying, and even shoved me around a bit. One said, "He should be finished dealing with hellfire about now" in Cretan and I assumed they meant you. Since it was clearly up to me to get you out of trouble, I faked a fall and drew an array on the ground. Dealt with the fuckers, ran to the only big building, saw an active array and leapt in like an idiot. Now we're here."
Roy started pacing – with difficulty. Better get used to walking on the leg. "How much did you see outside?"
Ed was talking almost before Roy finished the question. "We're on a compound, but a small one. This is the main building, there's a wing that way, and there was a garage and maybe a storage. Forest all around. It's still night and we're not hungry enough for a day to have passed." Ed stretched while he talked, then turned a calculating eye on the array responsible for their plight.
Roy left him to it for now. The sooner they knew exactly what had happened, the sooner they could fix it. They needed to prioritize investigating the transmutation along with getting back to allies. Roy doubted either of them wanted to stay like this while researching a solution from scratch. While Ed worked his magic with alchemy, Roy could do his part as a strategist.
The provided information allowed him to make some educated guesses. The garage and the forest implied they had been transported by car, and no more than a few hours could've passed. The small and isolated compound was likely here entirely for the alchemist's purposes since alchemy with results like this was better hidden away. The successful kidnapping from a mostly secure location meant this was bigger than a crazy alchemist and his buddies.
Walking was getting easier, but that only meant he wasn't in danger of falling with every step. He clanked as he moved.
They needed to find out everything they could about the enemy. They needed to find out where exactly they were. They should attempt contact with Havoc and Breda but since they had no established communication lines in this country that might be impossible. Finding a car and picking a direction could work depending on how prepared their enemies were and how isolated the compound was. Calling in help would be better. Finding a map, among other things, would be best.
"Mustang, a hand?" called Roy's voice. Dear lord, it was upsetting to hear someone else use it – it sounded different from outside his head.
Ed was standing by the body. He probably wanted it moved so he could see the parts it was covering. Roy limped over and grabbed the legs. The steel hand clamped on with worrying mechanical strength. Well, not like the poor man would feel it.
They lifted the body outside the array and set it down. Roy had just thought that the man must've been very thin under his clothes to weigh so little when Ed groaned his discontent and said, "At least you're not a complete pencil pusher, but man, I miss my strength. I work hard for that, you know." He punctuated this with a glare like he was accusing Roy of stealing it from him unfairly. Which… was fair.
But not grounds for letting him get the last word. "Yes, I can tell. It's much appreciated. And no-one told you to leap in like an idiot, as you so put it."
Ed scoffed and rubbed his back with completely unnecessary theatrics as he broke the outer circle of the array with his foot. "Oh, so you'd prefer to be in that sorry…" Ed started, gesturing to the body, but he trailed off and his expression fell as his eyes landed on it. He turned back to the array with dark eyes and set off towards the bloodstain.
Roy watched as Ed clapped and transmuted the blood into small crystals that scattered around him. "Thank you, Edward. For saving me." Ed did not acknowledge him, instead studying the revealed lines. "It might not be what you want to hear right now, but you made the right call. We'd be in much deeper trouble if he could hold my body hostage."
"Yeah," came a clipped response. Roy waited, but apparently that was all he was going to get. He let it go.
Ambling carefully next to Ed, Roy studied the array. He recognized a few symbols, but that was about all he could say at first glance. There was very little elemental information on it. Ed was crouched, focused intently on the area the blood had covered. Soon enough, he glanced at Roy and started explaining in his Alchemy Voice.
"At first, I thought this might be soul binding – you know, rip them off and slap them on opposite bodies? Only with the array finishing the job on its own weight since he apparently wanted to do it to himself, which by the way sounds volatile as fuck. But it's actually not that, it's something a bit smarter. The array creates a link between two people that works sort of like your soul was attached to two bodies. Then it uses that connection to lever each mind to the opposing body and fixes it there. The result should be something more stable than soul binding."
Roy swallowed. A soul attached to two bodies? "Meaning we probably don't need to worry about it deteriorating on its own, at least. If the "fix" holding the minds in place was broken, would the situation correct itself?"
Edward looked thoughtful as he scanned the edges of the array. "That's hard to say. The connection would still be there, and the mind is the bridge between body and soul. A lot of things could happen. And there's another problem." Ed pointed to a spot next to him. "This is where I tackled the alchemist. He messed up some of the marks as he fell."
Some of the chalk lines had indeed been blurred. "Can you tell what was there?"
Ed frowned. "Pretty much, but that's not the issue. The transmutation was still going when the array was changed, so there's no telling how it could've been affected. It's a miracle it didn't just rebound, especially since I kind of took control of it halfway. And this area controls the mind-switching-and-attaching part of the whole equation, which doesn't fill me with confidence here."
That was indeed quite worrying. Roy wasn't a fan of his mind being the subject of an unstable transmutation. "I see. How exactly was it supposed to work?"
Ed stood up and started pacing. "The other parts would've first created the connection. The array would've then built energy to sort of fling the minds around with force, then automatically fix them in place. He made the energy build up purposefully slow, probably so he'd have time to do something about the fact that he'd be ending up in the body that was tied up. It should've taken maybe a few minutes, but we blacked out for a while 'cos the whole thing went sideways, so it's hard to say if that was affected. Besides that… we'll just have to wait and see what comes up."
"Well, that's… alarming, but I suppose we're better served worrying about other things for now. We need to search for information and form a plan. We'll go through this building thoroughly, then see what we have. And… stay alert, Fullmetal. I doubt I'll be much use for a while, yet." It was better to admit it, Roy thought as he tested the metal hand's jerky movements. Edward's body was a precise and powerful tool and Roy was ashamed to admit that he felt like a simpleton staggering around and waving a welding torch as he tried to perform the simplest actions with it, but enemy territory was no place for foolish pride.
Edward flinched. "Yeah, I'll keep my eyes peeled as long as you're piloting that piece of junk. Try not to fall, or whatever."
Roy blinked, and would've asked what he was talking about, but Ed was already well on his way towards the door leading further into the building. Roy resolved to bring it up later – he did not just hear Ed call his own body a "piece of junk". Maybe it wasn't in pristine condition, but that hardly made it weak or broken. Adversity had bestowed it ethereal strength and resilience.
…Roy would find better words to bring his point across. Later.
They found a promising room after checking only a few doors. It was crammed with tables and shelves, most of which were covered in books and papers. Only a small short-range communication radio had a clean table to itself, segregated to its own corner far from the encroaching mess. Ed was already diving into what had to be the notes of the deceased alchemist. Roy gave the radio a brief look before joining him, but he wouldn't know which local frequencies to contact even if the radio had the power to reach them.
Most things in the room were written, predictably, in Cretan. Thankfully both Roy and Ed had picked up Cretan as preparation for the journey, in record time no less. Roy would've been proud if the reason behind their swift progress didn't make him feel sick.
Seeing the Truth had made learning new things different. While reading on academic subjects, Roy sometimes got the unsettling feeling he was simply refreshing half-forgotten memories even when he was reading cutting-edge studies or theories. The effect was fragmented and made him incredibly uneasy besides, but it had undeniably made absorbing new knowledge much faster. Complex ideas fell into place like they had always belonged in his head. Thinking about how the Gate had done this to him, however, was always nauseating. He knew the memory of his mind being ripped open and knowledge, great and terrible, pouring through him would never fade.
Learning new languages with ease was apparently one of the boons granted by the experience. When Roy had taken to brushing up on his basic Cretan, he had found himself becoming fluent in short time. The Truth had in its passing carved space for entire languages, and the hollows drew in knowledge like desert sands drank water.
Regardless, Cretan was coming in handy now. The two of them rifled through papers, sorting the useless from the potentially important. Roy had never been good with paperwork and the task became tedious quickly. He was checking the written notes of a routine call from the alchemist's benefactor for anything useful, but the lines became meaningless as his focus wandered and his mind latched on to stray thoughts to distract itself.
The easiest target in this case was his borrowed body. He'd had a moment to calm down, and their tedious task afforded him plenty of time to feel what residing in a completely different vessel was like. All the old and familiar aches, scars and tensions were gone, replaced with a set of all new ones. Roy hadn't thought it'd be possible to miss the way his hands ached and trembled thanks to his scars when he gripped something tightly, but he supposed it was all a matter of perspective. Funnily enough, he could still feel a large scar on his torso, pulling when the skin stretched. By which he meant it wasn't funny at all. When had Ed been so heavily injured?
He wondered if it was cruel for Edward to have four limbs again, only for them to be taken away again when they fixed this. He hoped Ed got something out of the experience, at least.
Roy shook himself free of the thought and decided the paper he was holding held nothing useful to them. He discarded it in favour of a list of supplies from two months ago and kept reading.
He was interrupted soon by a bark of laughter from Ed. He startled badly and had to remind himself that this was Ed, not a stranger despite the laugh sounding unfamiliar. Berating his own distractedness, Roy turned to raise an eyebrow at Ed, who was reading what looked like a journal. "This guy was writing about how he was practicing being you. He had trouble with flame alchemy and decided that being able to make wild bursts of varying strengths would "have to do", reckoned your skills had to be exaggerated anyway." Ed laughed again, this time darker. "Hawkeye would've seen through this guy in about a second. He's lucky we fucked up his plans, he would've been in deep shit if he somehow got back to Amestris as you."
Roy bit his tongue to hold the comment about the man's current relative unluckiness. Ed had during these past years let go of his resolution not to kill under any circumstances, but admitting it was sometimes unavoidable and having the resolve to follow through when it truly was the best option was not the same thing as being fine with having to kill and not carrying heavy guilt for it. Roy should know.
Sometimes, Roy was very proud of the man Edward had become. And sometimes, Roy was very ashamed of himself and his part in it. The least he could do was keep his mouth shut when doing otherwise would only bring harm. He gave his vague agreement and turned back to his reading. Then his brain made a connection and he quickly swerved back. "He was practicing my alchemy? Does that mean there are ignition gloves here?"
"Must be. We'll need to look for clothes anyway. We'll come across them," Ed mused. Relief washed over Roy and he had to convince himself not to go find the gloves right away. He'd feel leagues better with them, but they'd get to them in due time.
Ed handed Roy the journal once he was done with it. It belonged to one Hector Rovez, the Roy Mustang impersonator enthusiast whose current occupation was being dead. Before that he had been an alchemist studying soul alchemy, apparently aware of its problems to some extent and theorizing ways to work around them. He'd been very patriotic and had been disgustingly delighted with the idea of killing Roy and infiltrating the Amestrian high command as him. Thankfully the personal comments about Amestris and "Hellfire" were few and most of the journal consisted of notes about his research and mimicking progress. Someone had given him extensive materials from which to study Roy and his behaviour – the same benefactor that featured often on the various papers scattered around, no doubt.
Rovez had been working on a version of the array for years, and apparently in anticipation of Roy's visit he had been contacted and given this place and plenty of resources to finish and fine-tune it. The plan wasn't written down anywhere, but it wasn't exactly hard to figure out. A loyal Cretan would be sent as Roy back to Amestris where he could do with his rank and position whatever the hell he pleased, until his cover was eventually blown at least. Roy had already found a note specifying the people Rovez would've passed his intel on to get it back to Creta. He had every intention of taking care of that once he was back home.
Roy skimmed through the rest of the journal, after which he and Ed compared notes. They hadn't found anything specific enough about their position to be of any real help. Their defeated captors were the only permanent residents of the compound, but there were some reinforcements an hour's ride away. Ed had reaffirmed that his interpretation of the array had been correct, but unfortunately, he hadn't learnt anything useful about reversing the effects.
Satisfied for now, Roy decided they should move on and check the rest of the building. They found some supplies, food, and bags in which to pack them. They also found clothes that fit Roy's body with minor adjustments and, to Roy's great relief, a pair of ignition gloves. He tugged them on, pleased, while Ed snatched the clothes with an unreadable expression and stalked to the next room. Roy stood there testing his snapping ability with the automail and carefully didn't think about Ed stripping Roy's body behind the wall.
The automail was not yielding to his attempts. Roy wasn't very surprised. The combination of lacking dexterity and sensation meant that while he might be able to create enough friction for the spark, it would be too unreliable for use in combat. He'd be managing with his left hand for now. The gloves themselves were second-rate imitations compared to his usual ones, but they would serve well enough for now. Roy snapped a few sparks experimentally to get used to the difference. The material was different, but hopefully that would only be a minor annoyance.
Ed opened the door, wearing dark and practical clothing. He clapped and disintegrated Roy's sleep clothes pointedly. Roy decided to not comment on this.
They headed back to the room with the books and papers to pick what they wanted to take with them in case the rest was lost or destroyed. They needed research on the array to help find a way to reverse their swap and evidence that might help track down the people behind this entire plan. They couldn't, however, fill their bags with piles of paper, so they sat down to sort through it all and argue about what was important enough to include. It was riveting and infuriating in equal measure.
They were almost done when the radio interrupted them by crackling to life, broadcasting a woman's voice asking for response in Cretan. Roy looked at it, then at Ed, who mirrored his own wide-eyed look.
"Come in Outpost Alpha, this is Headquarters. Were you successful?"
Fullmetal dropped the papers in his hands and was next to Roy in an instant. Roy was already talking, his mind running through options. "It's bound to be a scheduled check-in. There are not enough personnel to dedicate someone to permanent radio duty. If they get no response, they'll assume something's gone wrong and they'll be coming down on our heads as soon as they can get mobilized. We need to at least try and give a response. If we get some information out of it, so much the better."
Fullmetal's focused, piercing gaze was still unmistakable even when it was delivered from dark eyes and greater height. "With so little manpower present, she'll recognize everyone by voice," he noted, then blinked "…except that the alchemist is supposed to be in your body right now. Huh."
"Outpost Alpha, respond or we will assume something has gone wrong. 60 seconds."
"Exactly." Roy wondered how his customary smirk looked on Edward's face. "Use standard radio etiquette. Primarily aim to keep suspicions down, secondarily fish for anything you can. Understood, Fullmetal?"
Ed nodded tightly and settled in front of the radio. He hesitated with the mouthpiece for a breath, then spoke in clipped Cretan. "Outpost Alpha responding, Hector here, sorry for the delay. We were still cleaning up. I was successful." He even managed to sound happy about it, like an alchemist completing a long-awaited transmutation should be.
"So it sounds, though it also sounds like you gained an accent. You aren't undercover yet, Hector, no need for the theatrics." The woman sounded suspicious, and Roy cursed under his breath. Fullmetal stiffened visibly. His Cretan was good, but apparently not good enough to pass as native. Roy counted two long seconds before Fullmetal recovered.
"It's this blasted man's vocal chords. I can't quite get them to work properly yet. A few hours and I'm sure I'll get the hang of it. Are we on schedule?"
"…Yes, for now. Hector, you wouldn't mind reciting our next steps for me, would you?"
Damn. It had been as good of an excuse as they'd be likely to find, and she hadn't bought it. There wasn't time to discuss with Fullmetal what the enemy's likeliest plan of action was. Roy could only hope Edward's quick mind was piecing together something suitably vague and believable.
"I realize you want to make sure it's me, but we don't have time for this nonsense. Fine. I will be relocated back near the Luminare hotel with the Fullmetal alchemist's corpse, which I will drag back to Mustang's entourage along with a story of an attack, during which Elric sadly lost his life in my defence. The diplomatic meeting will be called off and I will take Mustang's place as they head back to Amestris. I'll need to integrate carefully before I start taking action and relaying information through our people." Fullmetal sounded suitably bored and annoyed, and the guess he'd made might just pass muster. Roy held his breath as the silence stagnated. A small eternity passed before it finally broke with a crackle.
"I do not know what those hirelings were thinking, or how they managed to take Fullmetal along with you, Mustang, but it was assuredly not the plan." …Fuck. "It is unfortunate that taking your body was not successful, but I was always prepared for this possibility. I will make sure you die, Hellfire, even if I have to choke the life from you with my own hands."
The radio returned to silence. Ed stood up and threw the mouthpiece at the radio with feeling.
"Quite," Roy agreed.
Ed stalked away to shove handfuls of paper into his bag. "We need to be going Mustang, right the fuck now."
"True," Roy said mildly as he went to help with the shoving. "Though this wasn't a complete loss. In hindsight, I doubt we were ever going to fool her thanks to the language, and at this point everything we learn about our enemies is an advantage we've gained."
"Sure," Ed muttered, but he seemed marginally mollified. He side-eyed Roy as they were tying up their bags and ventured, "She seemed to have it out for you. Think that was the mastermind behind this whole shitfest?"
Roy gave this some thought. "Possibly. She had some authority, at least. And I suppose my reputation precedes me even here. Hellfire… I wasn't aware I had a Cretan moniker."
"Yeah, it's kinda cool" said Ed cheerfully. "Too bad it probably has some shitty associations for Cretans if your kidnapper threw it in your face like an insult."
Roy hummed. "It would be more your style, anyway. But that reminds me, if their plan didn't include grabbing you along with me, how did you end up getting taken?"
"Oh, that." Edward was biting his lip. It was good to know the expression worked for Roy's face, at least the way Ed did it. "I know they told us the security at the Luminare is top notch – which, by the way, I told you so. But I couldn't really sleep, so I was just working on stuff in my room. I was gonna go walk the hallways until I got tired enough to pass out, but then I heard a noise from your room through the wall. I thought you were still up, so I was gonna check in, complain about the hotel maybe. I knocked on your door and got it thrown in my face. It dazed me enough that a couple guys got the chance to pile on me. I fought and tried to raise hell, but they got me down with a rag in my face. That's about it."
Roy swallowed the clawing fear of how easy it would've been for them to finish off Edward right then and there. He silently thanked whatever had made them take Fullmetal with them instead.
They passed through the array room and gave it a last check on their way out. Edward crouched next to the body for a moment, then stood up with a scoff – Roy could almost feel his knees protesting – and stalked to the door leading outside. Roy gave a final glance back at the array, then hurried after Ed, cursing their new leg proportions and his spotty control of the automail.
He was still a few steps behind when a shadow moved towards Fullmetal's back from behind the opened door. Roy's warning was too late even as he voiced it, but Ed's awareness and reflexes didn't fail him. He turned and snapped his right forearm up just in time to block an axe aiming for his head. As the handle made a nasty impact with his arm, he gave a muffled, angry exclamation and kicked the attacker away. Ed staggered back a few steps while clutching his arm, and Roy got a good look at the attacker. His face was covered in blood and twisted in a hateful snarl aimed at Ed, who he must've thought was Roy. He was already swinging the axe a second time, ignoring Roy completely.
Hot blood rushed to his head, drowning out everything resembling sense. His hand came up without conscious thought, and he managed to glimpse the spreading horror and realization on the man's face before it was engulfed in flame.
For two beats of his heart Roy was viciously content. Then reality came rushing back and he killed the fire.
He knew it was already too late – he'd filled the man's lungs with fire. He fell to the ground without a sound, face ravaged by the intense, hungry flames. Unconscious or not, he'd be dead very soon.
Ed was panting, left hand hovering over his right arm. His eyes were glued to the attacker for several aching seconds before he closed his eyes and bent his head. Roy couldn't make himself study Edward's expression closely, and instead took the time to sort through his own shaken composure. He'd reacted and there'd been no time to spare. The rest he could think about later.
In a few more shuddering breaths, Ed shifted his footing and touched his arm with a hiss. "It's broken," he reported before going to check on the prone body. His actions were automatic, and his expression remained blank. "I knocked him unconscious earlier, but I guess he had a hard head. I destroyed all their guns, too, but that didn't slow him down much. Where the hell did he find an axe…" He lingered over the man for a moment before he stood and turned to Roy, face revealing nothing.
Roy deemed himself sufficiently put-together again and redirected his attention. "We'll bind the arm when we're a bit safer. We should check the rest of the men you decommissioned. Where did you leave them?"
Ed led the way to them more carefully. He kept wincing every few steps. After a few moments of silence, he spoke out without looking at Roy. "Here I was warning you about messing up my body, and instead I'm the one getting yours hurt. And, you're protecting me when it should be the other way around. I'm just acing my job today, huh?"
A glance told Roy that Ed looked pained and was covering it with a self-deprecating grin – poorly. Roy didn't make it a habit to coddle Fullmetal with encouragement or praise. The man had pride and strength, and stroking his ego was unnecessary. Still, this might be an occasion for an exception. The events hadn't been Ed's fault, but he'd have no trouble spinning it that way in his mind.
Either way, now wasn't the time for anything more than a quick defusal. "It's not like I can talk. I can barely use half of these limbs, so I'd say you're doing better."
Roy was hoping for a scoff at least but got nothing in response. He was wondering if he'd miscalculated, but they reached their destination before he could decide on an approach.
There was a small box of a building, behind which were signs of a struggle. Two men remained – one encased in an alchemised earthen hold and the other lying senseless on the ground. The trapped one was awake and blinking at them, looking confused and ill. Ed went to check on the prone man while Roy walked over to the discarded, broken cuffs Ed had left behind next to a simple, yet elegant array-
"FUCKING SHITHEAD ASS FUCK!"
Roy almost jumped out of his skin. To his shame, his first thought was horror at the undignified way the voice cracked in its anger. He knew he did that when he screamed in rage, but did it really sound that silly?
But the worry wasn't far behind. Spinning around quickly – almost unbalancing, damn all that metal – he only saw Ed, kneeling next to the prone man. The question almost got out, but he managed to arrest it in time.
From this angle he could see the staring, blank eyes. Dried blood stained the hair.
Roy turned away. He could say something about how difficult it was to judge the strength of automail normally, let alone when in a hurry to save someone's life. It would be the wrong thing to say, though. Anything he'd say right now would be the wrong thing to say.
They'd already had a long night and it wasn't over yet. Ed knew that Roy needed his steel right now, and Roy could give him the time to find it himself.
Roy had a look at the imprisoned man. His mouth wasn't covered but he didn't seem inclined to talking. His eyes darted between them. Roy decided it was safe to leave him there.
He could hear Ed standing up behind him. He turned to look and found Fullmetal looking back, the steel clear beneath the turmoil in his eyes. Seeing it broke Roy's heart and filled him with wonder in equal measure.
They walked in silence to have a look inside the little storage building. It was unlocked, and presumably the source of the axe based on the other contents.
"They literally took me behind the shed," Ed said blankly. He quirked Roy a little smile. "Unbelievable. No respect, these guys."
A quick check of the remaining buildings revealed their options to be limited. There were no vehicles and following the only passing road on foot was a sure way to walk into their enemies' hands. Instead, they headed for the surrounding woods.
Trying to find their way to civilization by stumbling blindly around the forest was a last-ditch plan, but for now the forest would provide an excellent hiding place for two alchemists. The woods were wild enough that making a natural-looking cover for a small shelter was not an issue. They remained close enough to the compound that they could easily sneak closer to see and hear what was happening in it. Roy splinted Ed's arm, hyperaware of his jerky movements with the automail. Ed gave no reaction to the treatment.
With the essentials taken care of, they sat down to wait for sunrise. Neither of them made a move to lay down for sleep. Roy knew he should insist, but he couldn't make himself say the words.
"What're our odds for Havoc and Breda finding us?"
Ed broke the silence with the abrupt question. His expression was blank. Roy had a sudden revelation – this must be what people saw and felt when he grilled them from behind his desk. Confirmation of the potent effect should surely be reassuring to him. Surely.
"Fairly low. We might get lucky, of course, but this operation doesn't seem incompetently handled. Havoc and Breda are working with limited resources in foreign territory. It's most likely up to us to reach them."
Ed nodded grimly and turned away, but Roy saw the opening and grabbed it with both hands.
"You said you took over the transmutation halfway through. What… happened?"
Ed glanced at him from the corner of his eye before answering. "When I tackled the alchemist, he lost concentration and I took the opportunity and fought him for control of the reaction. He… wasn't in the best shape, so I won. Kinda. I recognized that he was a part of the transmutation, and anything he wanted was obviously bad, so I shoved him out. I didn't really have time to do anything else – the reaction was already underway, and it grabbed me along instead. I tried to force it to a stop, but apparently it was too late at that point. I was still trying when I lost consciousness."
Roy couldn't help his wry smile. "You're incredible. You do know that, right?"
Ed glared at him with suspicion. Roy shook his head. All this time, and he was still constantly amazed by Edward's skill and daring. He had purposefully attempted to rebound an unknown, ongoing transmutation onto himself after stealing it from under another alchemist. No-one else, Roy swears.
But this was an important opportunity to do something about Edward's alarming state of mind following the night's tumultuous events. "Speaking of things you should know, this entire debacle is in no form on your shoulders. You did everything I would expect of a bodyguard and more. The circumstances were simply against us."
Something sparked in Ed's eyes and he turned to Roy with such ferocity that he recoiled reflexively. "Everything you would expect? You call getting three people killed something you'd expect? How about getting decked with a door? Or being almost executed by some fucking thugs? Breaking your arm like a damn idiot? Or getting you stuck in that mangled, pathetic excuse of a body you can barely walk in? That about par for the course for me?!"
The fire blazing through Ed's eyes was entirely unfitting for the dark colour it had for a vessel. Roy almost expected those eyes to burst into golden flames any second to better showcase the rage coursing within.
"I give you the body of an old, scarred, non-athletic alchemist that mostly sits behind a desk all day long and in return gain the most finely-tuned, dangerous physique in all of Amestris, which I can operate nowhere close to its potential, and you're feeling inadequate?"
Roy knew that wasn't what he should be focusing on. He was probably making things worse by airing his own grievances, but the words came out of his mouth without any conscious input.
Edward's expression twisted with incredulity and he responded with something like desperation. "You can't be serious. Disregarding that somehow you think becoming a cripple isn't a downgrade, you can't tell me that I haven't failed my goddamn job today. I mean, you-"
With only a moment of vertigo as warning, Edward's voice was suddenly cut off as everything doubled.
Two separate bodies he felt with, two opposing images he saw, two startled, inhaling pairs of lungs. An arm broken and another missing. And-
And he felt worried about Ed's broken arm and the splint, and about how Roy was dealing with the automail, and guilty about taking something so fit, so whole, something golden, exotic, beautiful and desirable and effortlessly radiant, carefully maintained and strong, and giving in return a thing so broken, weak, tarnished, old, scarreduglywrong to someone he-
As abruptly as it had appeared, the… experience, feeling, thing, disappeared again, leaving behind disorientation and nausea. Roy yelped with his own voice and felt throbbing pain where a moment ago there had been echoing emptiness. When he found Ed's eyes, they were shocked, amazed, and most importantly golden again.