Credits: FMA is by Hiromu Arakawa, but the plot of this story and its original characters belong to wolves134 (a.k.a. wolves3000 on deviantART), with ghostwriting by me. Early chapters are rewrites of a partial story by wolves and sweetxmakiko from quizilla. The cover art is by noodlemie from deviantART.

Timeline notes: This is a first anime AU fanfic. The first chapter is entirely a flashback, and the rest of the chapters will each start with a brief flashback followed by the main story. The main story time period is referred to as "Present Day" (same as the first anime, around 1914), and the flashbacks will be labeled in relation to that date (e.g., "Twelve Years Ago"). While the story generally follows the first anime timeline, there will be some noticeable differences.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Twelve Years Ago
Central City

Test Subject B awakened and opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the liquid surrounding her. Above the bulky breathing mask fitted over her mouth and nose, her vision gradually came back into focus: a tall, thin man with long, greasy black hair and a ragged goatee, in a white lab coat and glasses, was peering at her through the glass wall of her tube, making notes on a clipboard. When he had finished writing, the man pressed a button and the liquid around her began to drain away. Her heart began to beat faster with anxiety; it was time for experiments again. But she was comforted by the thought of the food she would receive afterward.

With the liquid gone, the front of the tube slid open. The mask stopped pumping and the girl reflexively pulled it away, coughing as she readjusted to breathing the room's air. While the man busied himself with some nearby equipment, she pushed tangled strands of reddish-brown hair and blue feathers away from her face and hugged herself to try to stay warm; she was dressed only in thin underwear and still soaking wet. Are you awake? she silently called to her companion in the adjacent tube. There was no response, but the other girl would be awakened soon, she was certain. The routine had been the same for all of the three years they had been alive.

She shivered as the man wrapped a towel around her small body and picked her up, then carried her to an examination table and strapped her down. He rarely spoke to his test subjects, only when he was in a very good mood, and when he did it was often in large words they didn't understand, words like selenium and molybdenum and decomposition. But that was OK. They didn't like the man at all—his experiments usually hurt—and it was better when he didn't talk. They couldn't have answered him even if they'd wanted to. Neither girl had the ability to speak out loud the way he could, and he couldn't hear their thoughts the way they could hear each other's.

The man moved to the other tube, labeled Test Subject A, releasing the liquid and opening the glass as he had for the first. The brown-haired girl inside awoke and coughed as she removed her own breathing mask, carefully sliding its strap over the gray wolf's ears on her head, and silently greeted her friend Hello.

Experiment time again, sighed B.

At least we'll get some food afterward, A sighed back.

The man wrapped the second girl in a towel and brought her to the other examination table. He was about to strap her down as well when a loud alarm began blaring, startling all three of them. "What in god's name—" the man muttered, but he looked frightened. "Stay here," he ordered the girls absently as he ran from the room.

What's happening? B asked fearfully, craning her neck from her restrained position. Why did the man run away?

I don't know. A sat up on her table. But I'm not strapped down. We should run away too! Experimentally she slid from the table, stumbling and nearly falling as her legs wobbled uncertainly—it had been awhile since they'd been out of the tubes—then righting herself. She ran to B's table and began trying to undo her restraints.

Outside, they heard noises all from around their building: people shouting, running. A's small hands fumbled at the straps, unable to work out how the buckles opened. You should run away! urged B, her eyes wide with fear. Go hide somewhere—

No! We'll go together! A replied determinedly. But from one of the windows near the ceiling came a bright flash of blue light, causing both girls to gasp silently. Above their heads the window was opening, a man's face peering down at them. He began to climb into the room—

Run away! B screamed at her companion. RUN!

And with a last terrified look at her trapped friend, A turned and fled out the door.

The man was in the room now, and B's heart hammered with terror. He was a big man, unlike any she'd ever seen, with a large white mark across his face in the shape of an 'X'. She whimpered in fear as he quickly approached her, unfastened her restraints with no difficulty, and picked her up in his arms. The shouting and running were louder now, moving inside the building with them. The man used one hand to slide the examination table under the high window, leapt up upon it, and then launched himself and the girl out of the window into the street. With her still in his arms, he took off running into the night, threading quickly through the streets and far from the receding shouts.

-o-o-o-o-

"Havoc, Falman, Fuery, cover the first floor! Hawkeye, Breda, with me!" Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang shouted. Without waiting for a response, he kicked down the metal door of the large brick building they were raiding and burst in, his gloved hands poised to snap, ready to rain down fire on anyone or anything that got in his way.

He ran down the corridor, trusting that Riza was keeping up behind his back and Breda behind her, both with guns armed and ready to fire. No one was in sight. Outside in the night, surrounding the nondescript building in Central City's warehouse district, more soldiers from the Investigations Division stood guard. But not enough—there were too many potential exits and no way to cover them all, a fact that scared him more than he could admit to his troops.

"This way," Roy shouted over his shoulder, running toward a staircase leading to the basement. After a quick scan to make sure no one was waiting to ambush them, he plunged down the stairs, Hawkeye and Breda following after.

-o-o-o-o-

Test Subject A ran through the hallway in blind panic. Terrifying noises—shouting, banging—were coming from the stairs at one end of the hall, so she ran to the other end, where a ladder led up to a small trap door in the ceiling. She climbed it frantically and burst through the trap door, which led to a tunnel that she had to get down on hands and knees to fit through. Warm air rushed past her as she crawled as quickly as she could. The tunnel led in three different directions; the first two were blocked by whirring fans, but the third led to another small door, and when the girl pushed her way through it, she found herself on the ground outside in the darkness. Shouting voices could still be heard around her, but there were no people in sight. Her heart still racing with terror, she thought mournfully of the friend she had abandoned inside, her eyes filling with tears.

"Make a sweep of the perimeter!" a man's bellow came from around the side of the building. The girl took off running again, crouching down behind the next building. She ducked out of sight just in time as a pair of men dressed in blue ran by. Hugging the shadows, she continued creeping to the next building, then the next, away from the voices.

With the shouts growing fainter behind her, as she rounded one corner she gasped silently and froze. A man in blue was sprawled out on the ground, lying on his stomach with the side of his face pressed against the pavement. She could hear him breathing—was he sleeping? Silently she tiptoed past him. Rounding the next building she saw no one else, and the voices were far away now. Ahead of her stretched a long, empty street. Taking a chance, she stopped creeping and simply ran.

-o-o-o-o-

Roy burst into the basement room—as their intel had told them, it was a laboratory. Scanning frantically, his eyes took in two huge glass tubes standing upright, still containing the remains of some clear liquid, each with a small breathing mask lying within. Each was large enough to have held a young child. Nearby were two metal examination tables, also both child-size, with restraints at the waist, arms and legs. Above their heads, a breeze blew through an open window at ground level. There were no people anywhere in sight. Roy stopped, breathing hard from running, and stared at the equipment in front of him. "There's no one here!" he exclaimed in frustration.

"Our intel said the girls would be here in this room," Riza said, her voice taut. Breda stayed silent, waiting for orders as his eyes swept between the two officers.

Roy grabbed the communications radio from his waist and spoke urgently into it. "Mustang here. There's no one in the basement lab. Tell me you found something, Havoc!"

There was a delay, then a crackle of static from the radio. "Fallman here, sir. Affirmative. We have a suspect in custody. Havoc's questioning him." Roy and Riza both let out a relieved sigh, exchanging hopeful looks.

"Where are the kids, Fallman?!" Roy shouted so loudly that the radio squealed with feedback.

There was another long pause. Then Fallman answered more quietly: "The suspect says they were in the basement, sir. He swears it. He seems like he's telling the truth."

Eying the open window, Riza grabbed her own radio and yelled into it, "Investigations Team! Did anyone leave this building?!"

"Campbell here. We've seen no one, ma'am," replied a man's voice, his tone urgent. "But we've lost contact with Jenkins. Ross and Brosh are heading to his position—stand by."

Without waiting for orders, Riza turned and sprinted back up the stairs. "Breda, secure this room and then go help Havoc!" Roy yelled as he ran after her.

-o-o-o-o-

In an alley several blocks away, the scarred man came to a stop and shifted the small girl in his arms. Limp with fear, she stared at him with wide eyes as he held her at arm's length, studying her. Her coloring was strange: unnaturally reddish-brown hair, dark brown eyes, pale skin. More insidiously, she had what appeared to be feathers emerging from the crown of her head and her tailbone—a telltale sign that she had been tampered with genetically. But from the familiar shape of her eyes and the structure of her cheekbones, he had no doubt that she was Ishvalan.

He felt himself tremble with rage. It had been a chance bit of intel wrung from the low-level State Alchemist he had assassinated last week, a lackey to Colonel Grand. The man had told him of an alchemical laboratory where a pair of children, including an Ishvalan child, were being experimented upon. Was it not enough that these Amestrian beasts had killed nearly all his people—but this!

In his arms the girl was recoiling from him; realizing that his anger was frightening her further, he forced himself to calm down. She was safe now, at least. The coincidence of the military raid had been inconvenient, but he had made it in and out in time. Now he would need to find some place to take her. He thought of the Ishvalan refugee camp outside of South City; but no, that was under tight supervision by the military, who would be looking for her. Her distinct appearance would make her stand out too much to be safe there.

His thoughts were distracted when the girl, finally swallowing her fear, began to kick and struggle in his arms. "Be still!" he ordered. "I will keep you safe—" But the girl was having none of it and kicked him hard in the stomach, catching him off guard. Her nimble form slipped from his grasp and she took off at a run, much faster than he expected for her size. "Wait!" he yelled after her as she disappeared around a corner, and he gave chase.

-o-o-o-o-

Back at the laboratory, Roy wiped sweat from his forehead, beside himself with frustration. Their search of the surrounding area had turned up no sign of the girls. Jenkins had been found alive but knocked out cold. Whoever had taken them had probably been long gone from the warehouse district before the team even started searching—which meant the girls could be anywhere by now.

As the team regrouped back inside the laboratory, Riza called the final status report into headquarters, her voice wooden. The radio crackled its reply: "Acknowledged. General Edison orders you to terminate the search and return to Central Command. An escort is being sent for the prisoner."

She let the hand holding the radio drop to her side. Her face was set in stone, but her eyes were filled with sorrow. "We were too late," she whispered, staring at the floor. "We lost them."

Roy uttered a curse, then turned and punched the wall next to him hard enough to dent the plaster. He breathed deeply for several moments, staring angrily into space. It had been their best hope, the only solid lead they'd had in three years. The two little girls were obviously nothing more than experiments to the evil men who held them; and now they were gone, somewhere out in the night where he couldn't find or protect them.

The other team members stood by uncertainly. After a long pause, Breda cleared his throat. "Orders, sir?" he asked gingerly. His voice snapped both officers out of their trances.

"Yes. Start packing up the files and evidence." Roy's voice was decisive, but held an undercurrent of sad resignation. He beckoned to Riza and began striding down the hall toward the room where Morishita was being held. "Lieutenant Hawkeye and I will continue interrogating the suspect."

-o-o-o-o-

By the time the scarred man caught up to the fleeing girl, they had crossed onto a commercial street lined with shops and restaurants, although most were closed at this hour and there were few people on the street. But as the girl darted through an alley behind one still lit-up restaurant, she turned a corner and collided with a man and woman walking toward their car, slipping and falling backward on the ground. Cursing silently, the scarred man ducked out of sight behind a dumpster before the couple caught sight of him. He would wait for her to start running again, then slip around the next building and follow.

But the couple was bending down to her. "Little girl, are you alright?" the woman gasped, tucking a strand of her short light-brown hair behind her ear as she leaned toward the girl. Either reassured by the woman's soothing tone or simply exhausted, the girl stayed where she was. No words came from her mouth, but she nodded gravely. "Honey, look, she's wearing next to nothing and she's soaking wet!" the woman exclaimed to her companion. "She must be freezing." The brown-haired man beside her was already taking off his coat and wrapping it around the girl.

"Do you have a name, sweetie?" he asked her. The girl looked at them blankly.

"Vincent—look at her head," the woman gasped anew. "Are those...feathers?" The adults' eyes met as a look of shock passed between them.

"Do you have a family?" the man asked the child carefully. "Somewhere you want to go back to?" But the girl only stared at the ground and shuddered. The man sat back on his heels and exhaled slowly. "Lavinia," he turned back to the woman, his eyes wide, "...do you remember that rumor you told me you heard at the hospital awhile back? About the military experiments?"

She nodded slowly. "From the drunk alchemist in the emergency room," she breathed. "He was babbling about animal-human DNA transfer. We all thought he was crazy, but afterwards the military sent people in to question everyone he'd talked to. They practically threatened us. We all pretended he hadn't said anything."

Vincent swallowed. "I'm getting the impression," he said quietly, "that your patient wasn't so crazy after all."

Behind the dumpster, the scarred man held his breath. He had no desire to kill civilians, but if these people intended to turn the girl in to the military, he would execute them on the spot.

"We can't let the military know about this little girl," the woman declared firmly. "She must have escaped from them. I've never trusted them to begin with, and now this..." The man was nodding in vigorous agreement. "She probably doesn't have anywhere to go," the woman continued. With sudden inspiration, she cocked an eyebrow at the man. "We've always wanted a child. I know the circumstances are strange, but...could we?"

The man paused thoughtfully, then pushed up his glasses, smiled and lifted the girl in his arms, propping her on his knee. "What do you think, sweetie? Would you like to come home with us?" Though still frightened, the girl nodded solemnly. "I think that settles it, Lavi. She looks like she needs us." The couple stood, the man still hugging the girl, and they resumed walking. The exhausted child let her eyes droop closed and laid her head on the man's shoulder.

From his hidden vantage point, the scarred man clenched his fists, breathing rapidly with anxiety. What should he do? This couple clearly intended to care for the girl and keep her hidden from the military. But they were Amestrians—how could he trust them to protect one of his people?! And yet what was the alternative: for him to kill these compassionate innocents? And then take the girl...where?

As they reached their car, the woman halted, putting her hand on the man's arm. "This means we can't tell anyone the real truth, OK? Even your brother. I know he's not like the rest of the military, but even he can't know. No one must know." The man nodded soberly.

If I'm going to intervene, I need to do it now, thought the scarred man, his heart pounding. But as he watched the man gently lay the now-sleeping girl across the back seat of the car, and both adults tenderly place a hand on her head for a moment before closing her in, he stood rooted to his spot behind the dumpster. He could not kill these people. The child faced risks either way, and he could not bring himself to rip her away from people who were showing her such kindness. Even if they were Amestrians.

He continued watching as the car slowly pulled away from the parking lot and down the alley, its brake lights receding as it turned on the street. Ishvala protect you, little girl, he prayed. I hope this was the right choice.

-o-o-o-o-

A mile away, Test Subject A stumbled into a park and collapsed onto her knees on the grass, breathing hard from the unfamiliar exertion of running. Silently she called out to her companion, Can you hear me? But the answering voice in her head was nowhere to be heard. Her eyes filled with tears again. I'm sorry, she said to the silence. I shouldn't have run away and left you.

She shivered violently in the cold wind. Nearby, she saw an object being blown along the ground by the wind: a cardboard box, one big enough for her to fit in. She managed to stand and stagger the rest of the way to it. When she reached it she climbed inside, pulled it shut behind her and curled up on herself, still shivering but at least sheltered from the wind. In a few moments she was already beginning to drift into exhausted sleep.

But she gradually became aware of voices nearby, growing louder. "...telling you, I just saw a little girl in her underwear climb into this box." A man's voice. Holding her breath, she curled up tighter and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he wouldn't see her, wouldn't take her back—but the box opened and cold air flooded in, and she heard a gasp.

She opened her eyes and stared at a light-haired man who was staring back at her. Unlike the others, this one wasn't shouting or wearing blue. "Hey, little girl! Are you OK?" the man asked gently.

"Rick, what's happening? Is she all right?" came a woman's voice from somewhere behind him.

"She's not answering. I'm not sure she can talk," he replied over his shoulder, the turned back to the girl. "Why don't you come on out of there, OK? I promise we won't hurt you." He reached in, his hands warm as he took hold of her arms and gently began to draw her out. Frightened, the girl began to fight him, kicking and struggling like a cornered animal. "Raven, some help here!" he called.

The woman was at his side in an instant, pulling the box away and then unexpectedly taking the girl into a hug, gripping her gently but firmly until she tired of struggling. "It's OK!" the woman smiled down at her, her long dark hair hanging down from under a hat. "Please let us help you. Little girls don't belong in cardboard boxes. And you must be so cold." Wrapped in a soft coat, the woman felt warm against the girl's skin.

The man had taken off his own jacket. "Here," he held it out to the girl, "Why don't we put this on you? We'll take you to our house, get you something to eat, and try to figure out where you belong. OK?" Though the girl was still frightened, these people didn't seem to want to hurt her. And she was so cold and hungry. She nodded slowly. The man wrapped his coat around her, then lifted her into his arms. As he and the woman began to walk, the girl felt her eyelids begin to droop again from exhaustion.

Some of her hair had fallen over her face, and as they walked along the darkened sidewalk, the woman brushed it away and smoothed it down on her head. Then she paused, her eyes wide with surprise. "Rick," the woman said quietly. "Look at her ears." The girl could no longer keep her eyes open, but felt the man crane his neck, then abruptly stop walking.

"Didn't you tell me," she heard him asked the woman soberly, "about a rumor you once heard at the hospital?"

"Yes, I did," the woman answered thoughtfully. "I think...maybe this little girl should stay with us." They began walking again, and as the girl drifted off to sleep, the last thing she felt was a hat being gently placed over her head.