A Rose from the Grave

by Alias-vendor

When Roy turns up five years after his death, Edward realizes that there's more than one way that someone can die. After all, if who we are is made up of our memories...can we truly be the same without them? Slash EdxRoy. M for swearing.

A/N: Not sure what age May was in the anime so I made her ten. Ed lost his alchemy but is working in a consultant type capacity for the military.

Also umm…warning: monster ahead. Like 26,000 words worth of one. And slash.

…

It was just barely dawn and the young man stifled a yawn as he stretched lazily along the wooden chair. His arms brushed against the backrest before he dropped them back down and folded them across the table. It's too early for this shit. His head slumped into the cradle of his arms as he traced idle circles with one finger. Although, he reconsidered as an almighty growl indicated his stomach was decidedly less than pleased with his decision to skip dinner the previous night. Gold hair drifted across his face in the slight breeze and he blew air upwards though his lips to shoo it away from his eyes. It worked for less than three seconds before the hair drifted back across to tickle his nose. The scent of crackling bacon wafted on the air, eliciting an answering rumble as his head shot up and gold eyes latched themselves onto the sight of edible food like a lion on a half-dead zebra. As he watched his brother twist his way skilfully around tables and chairs, two hefty plates of food balanced on his hands, he was struck by how novel it still was. It had been five years since he had rescued Al's body from the gate, and yet he found it hard to believe he would ever get used to the sight.

'I'm coming, brother.' Al laughed as Ed's stomach growled again and set the plates down on the table. Ed barely waited for him to sit down before he dug in with all the grace of a starving caveman. As he shovelled the food into his mouth he flicked his gaze up to see that Al was regarding him with fond amusement.

'What?' He asked defensively, tone softened by the food he was chewing.

'You never change,' Al's laugh – completely free of the tinny undertones the suit of armour had imposed upon it – was light like silver bells on the wind. His gentle eyes were bright and carefree happiness seemed to wrap around him like a shawl.

Ed scowled but he was hard pressed to summon his usual level of animosity when faced with his brother's special brand of beaming sunlight. He was glad Al was happy, even if it meant he had to walk around with his own personal sun bouncing along beside him.

Al took a bite of his eggs at a more leisurely pace, taking the time to chew before he speared another piece, and waited for Ed to finish demolishing his meal. Conversations flowed around them as people passed on the street, snippets of meaningless information tangling with the wind. The café itself was quiet, the few other residents content to sip their coffee and read their news in peace. Ed laid his cutlery down on the plate and pushed it away with an approving grunt, settling his hands on his stomach as he leaned back and regarded his brother curiously.

'What are you doing here?' He asked bluntly.

'Do I have to have a reason?' Al wondered, 'can't I just be visiting my brother because I miss him?'

'You could,' Ed's eyes narrowed, 'except that you aren't.' He folded his arms as if daring his brother to contradict him. They sat in silence for a minute, steely gold locked onto a softer, malleable, one.

'Alright,' Al conceded, 'Winry called me.'

'Why?' Ed scowled, kicking the table moodily. 'It's been two years. She had no right.'

'She's worried about you,' Alphonse pointed out gently. 'Anyone with half a brain can see you're unhappy.' He leant forward, gaze earnest. 'She still loves you, you know.'

'I know,' Ed looked away, unable to face him.

Al watched him for a short while, his heart tightening as he read the story clear on his brother's face.

'You still haven't let go, have you.'

Ed's eyes slipped closed as he clenched his jaw, mutely shaking his head in answer.

'Brother...' Al started and then stopped, at a loss as to how to continue. Eventually he quietly said, 'it's been five years. He…' he swallowed and his voice became more resolute, 'he's gone. You need to move on.'

Ed opened his eyes, his gaze weary.

'Don't you think I would, if I could?' He offered his brother a small smile but it was bereft of his usual frenetic energy. 'Can we talk about something else?'

Al frowned but acquiesced knowing the topic hurt his brother more than he cared to admit.

'Okay,' he lit up as he remembered the other reason he had dragged his brother out at five in the morning. 'May and I are moving to central.'

'Seriously?' Ed brightened, his thoughts dragged away from a pain he had long failed to bury.

'Uh huh,' Al grinned. 'Ling's emperor now so he's looking after her clan and I've got enough research on Alkahestry to last me a good ten years. She's been wanting to come back and see everyone for ages.'

'You better not be moving back to keep an eye on me,' Ed warned.

'Of course not.' Al's grin widened. 'That's just the bonus.'

'Hmph,' Ed grumbled and then smirked slyly. 'So when's the wedding?'

'…w-what?' Al choked on the water he'd just imbibed. 'Brother, there's no wedding!'

'So I guess she's just moving here for the scenery then?' Ed asked wickedly.

Al flushed an endearing bright red that brought a real smile to Ed's face.

'It's too soon,' he managed. 'We only really just started dating.'

'…riiiight.' Ed drawled, 'you keep telling yourself that.'

Al grinned back; glad his brother was brightening up, and glanced down at his watch to check the time.

'Didn't you say you had to be at central command at seven?'

'Yeah,' Ed sighed, 'Hawkeye's got some alchemy-related problem she wants me to look into.'

'It's six-forty five.'

'…shit.' Ed swore quietly as he leapt up from the table in one fluid motion. 'She's going to kill me.' He shoved his chair in as Al got up at a more leisurely pace.

'Go on,' he smiled fondly as the familiar scene. 'We'll catch up later.'

Ed flashed him a quick grin and fled with a hasty wave, disappearing into the hustle and bustle of the morning.

Al watched him go with a thoughtful gaze. His brother seemed okay but he was remarkably adept at burying his problems and simply moving forward in spite of them. It hadn't really been much of a shock to learn that he still hadn't let go despite the fact that it was five years later. His inability to do so had been the very reason his marriage to Winry had fallen apart at the seams. He'd loved her, but only with the small part of him that had remained. The rest had died along with Roy Mustang in the aftermath of the civil war.

He sighed and made his way onto the paved streets, heading vaguely towards the apartment he was renting in the city. If only his brother could move on, instead of simply forward. Maybe then he'd actually be happy.

…

As Ed raced into the room he could feel Hawkeye's disappointed gaze boring into him. He shot a glare at Havoc who promptly stifled his chuckle and pretended to get back to work.

'Al's back,' he said instead of an apology knowing that was his best, and only, defence.

Colonel Riza Hawkeye's glare softened fractionally and she nodded sharply in acknowledgement.

'Alright Edward,' she gestured to her office – Mustang's, his brain interjected unhelpfully – and ushered him inside. The room was much the same as it had always been and the sight never failed to trigger memories better left buried.

'What do you want, Fullmetal?' Brigadier-General Mustang glanced up from his mound of paperwork, his dark eyes tired, and gestured to it. 'I don't exactly have time to fight with you today.'

'I don't always come in here to fight with you,' Ed argued and then scowled as the older man raised an elegant eyebrow. '…shut up.'

Instead of the cocky smirk that would undoubtedly spark a full blown argument, Mustang simply sighed and rested his chin on his folded hands.

'What is it?' He sounded subdued and Ed surveyed him carefully before making the snap decision to back down.

'It can wait.'

He wasn't sure exactly why it was that particular memory that kept coming to light when he stepped into the office. Possibly it was because it had been the last conversation he'd had there with Mustang. After that, everything had gone to hell in the proverbial hand basket.

'How is Alphonse?' Riza sat down behind the desk and gesture for him to settle himself in the nearby chair.

He slumped into it without a fuss and ran his fingers up and down the right arm as he answered.

'Good,' he looked up into softer brown eyes and offered a small smile. 'He's moving back.'

'I know,' she seemed vaguely uncomfortable, as if there was something she wanted to bring up but was completely unsure of how to do so.

'Edward…' she paused, her tone gentle. 'How are you?'

'Fine,' he shrugged nonchalantly. He watched as her gaze turned vaguely suspicious and started to wonder why she was being so…motherly. Usually she was a dragon disguised as a human, breathing down the necks of her subordinates and making sure every scrap of paperwork was handed in on time and ridiculously legible to boot.

Then it hit him with all the force of a runaway freight train. It was the anniversary of Roy's death…and he had almost forgotten. Maybe he was beginning to move on.

Her concern was odd, though...unless?

'Al told you,' he said flatly.

The look on her face was enough to confirm his suspicions and he sighed heavily.

'I'm fine.'

'Edward, you are not fine.' She said quietly, though her voice kept the hard edge often present when she was admonishing someone. 'You need to let it go.'

'So was this assignment bogus then?' He said loudly, steadfastly ignoring her words.

She stared at him silently, her posture indicating she was going to stubbornly wait for him to acknowledge her and then beat him around the head with a book if he refused.

'Let me ask you a question, Riza.' He leant forward, his gold eyes piercing. 'Have you?'

'It's Colonel or Hawkeye to you,' she said stiffly which was enough of an answer.

He leant back, satisfied, and set his chin stubbornly. 'I will when you will.'

Her mouth twitched upwards but it was the only response she gave to his pronouncement. After a moment she shook her head, short blonde hair bobbing with the movement.

'Go home.' She sighed to soften the order, 'at least you can.'

'You called me in here,' he pointed out but it lacked his usual bite. 'Look, I'm fine.' He gazed pointedly at the file she'd set off to the side. 'Just give me the assignment.'

She looked unconvinced but then slid the file over nonetheless.

'Thanks,' he picked it up and stood. Turning around he walked to the door but paused before he opened it. 'Work…it takes my mind off it.' He didn't turn around but he could feel her nod in understanding, 'if only for a little while.'

He stepped through the threshold and let the door swing shut behind him.

'Hey, boss.' Havoc greeted him, cheerful as always, with the typical smoking cigarette hanging haphazardly from his lips. Ed held his breath reflexively, bringing his fingers up to punch his nostrils. The simple charring scent never failed to plunge him straight into the deep end of memories he tried hard to avoid. It was a hopeless fight, one he knew he could never win. He would always, irrevocably, associate even the most innocuous remnants of fire with him.

Havoc mistook his reaction for disgust – a common enough response to his addiction – and snuffed the cigarette out apologetically.

'Sorry boss,' he twisted the white butt into the ashtray sending delicate ashes swirling through the air. Within moments they had collapsed in on themselves and withered away though the scent still lingered faintly in the room.

Ed waved away the apology, dropping his hand back down to his side and offering the blond man a half-smile. Havoc grinned back at him easily, throwing his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair, feet propped on the desk.

'How has Hawkeye not killed you yet?' Ed asked incredulously, eyeing dirty boots resting lazily on fresh piles of untouched paperwork.

'She loves me.' He preened, leaning even further back. Ed was sure that one day he would miscalculate and overbalance and that it would be the funniest thing since a half-asleep Falman had walked straight into the door, blinked, and then tried again as if he thought it would give way.

'Yeah, dream on.' Ed rolled his eyes as he briefly considering kicking the chair out from under the over-confident lieutenant. The idea had merit.

'Always,' the green-eyed man flashed him a grin that was all teeth. 'What'cha got there anyway?'

Ed glanced down at the file in his hand and shrugged.

'Don't know.' He headed for the door, knowing that it was only a matter of time until Hawkeye emerged from the office to micromanage her staff into unwilling efficiency. He planned to be far, far, away when that happened lest he be roped into helping. Since he wasn't technically military anymore that would probably amount to being tasked with alphabetizing files or something equally as insidious.

'Don't forget to drop us a line sometime!' Havoc called after him, 'entertainment's in short supply around here.'

Ed flipped him the bird.

…

He eventually settled down at a table in the military library. It was quiet, being mostly deserted, and the chances of being disturbed were slim to none. He knew the others couldn't understand why he went out of his way to avoid the office whenever possible but he just couldn't stand to be in the room for more than a few minutes. Everything was a reminder of what he'd lost and, for the first two years following Mustang's death he hadn't set one foot in it. It had been easier, then, since he'd been discharged from the military. After all, what use was a state alchemist who couldn't even perform alchemy? He had gone home to Risembool with Al and Winry and tried to live out a normal life, tried to put the past behind him and move forward at the same relentless pace he'd always pushed himself to. It hadn't worked, and if he regretted one thing following the civil war, it was his marriage to Winry. It hadn't been fair to either of them but he'd just been so desperate and so far in denial that he'd taken advantage of her feelings for him.

After two years she'd coaxed it out of him with threats and a wrench and when he told her there had been no judgement or anger in her face, only sadness and a hint of understanding. She'd said very little following his confession, instead just holding him and whispering that everything would be okay though neither of them could work out how. He left soon after that, knowing that his presence there wouldn't be helpful to either of them. Al was in Xing so he had just ended up wandering around, getting odd jobs here and there, and wondering desperately why he couldn't let go like everyone else seemed to be able to. Eventually he found himself back at central, inexplicably drawn there though it held nothing for him but the past. He'd run into Hawkeye after a few weeks and been unceremoniously roped into assisting on some alchemy related cases. Since then he'd helped out whenever one crossed her desk and it was enough to sustain him financially though he had to seek other avenues of distraction.

He flicked the file open and skimmed through the pages. It was the same old boring stuff that people usually went on with. Someone had lodged a complaint that their next-door neighbour was performing strange alchemy in their backyard. The complainant claimed it was 'dark magic' and that the perpetrator was a witch who was going to steal their souls while they slept.

Ed snorted. The things those people came up with.

In this case, both parties were shop owners – probably in direct competition with one another – whose main products were low-skill alchemy arrays and dodgy palm readings.

Still, given his experiences with alchemy he knew there was probably some grain of truth amongst all the embellishment.

Time for a road trip, then.

…

Tar alley was the name given to the small stretch of shops that graced the dilapidated east side of central city. It wasn't a particularly inventive, or descriptive, name but simply a moniker of unknown origin that had stuck over the years. The alley was a far cry from central's main, immaculate, streets and thus tended to exist only in the minds of those who lived near it. The street itself was narrow and the buildings on either side leant dangerously over it, almost completely blocking any view of the sky. It seemed a miracle they remained standing at all instead of simply crashing in like giant dominoes. A few were clearly apartment buildings, oversized with tell-tale stairs curling around the outside, while others were storefronts boasting colourful signs and displays. There was a musty smell emanating from an unseen location and Ed wrinkled his nose in mild disgust. Children played in the gutters, laughing and shrieking, with no apparent supervision. The soft tinkle of bells sounded periodically as people walked in and out of stores and the atmosphere was generally more cheery than he had expected.

Truthfully he had never paid much thought to the less wealthy areas of Central city. He had always been too focused on getting his brother's body back to spend time taking interest in things that weren't related to it. Now, he took the time to notice the lack of space between houses – or apartment buildings as they all appeared to be – and the way they all seemed to coagulate into one giant building that stretched alongside the street. What little plant life there was seemed to struggle valiantly against the oppressive shadow although nearly all of it was wilting from the lack of sunlight. There was rubbish strewn along the street, clumping in the gutters, and he was positive that there was actual wildlife gallivanting around in the various mounds.

He pushed onward, gaze flicking over shop titles as he searched for either one of the parties involved in the complaint. A glint of silver caught his eye and he turned towards a surprisingly well-kept little store that looked completely out of place in its surroundings. A metallic butterfly winked at him as it twisted merrily, despite the absence of wind. A blue lettered sign proclaimed the store to be 'The Silver Butterfly'.

He recalled the name being the one the complaint had been lodged against, and now he could see why. It stood in stark contrast to the entirety of the alley and would no doubt draw every single customer by that fact alone. He walked up to it and pushed the door open, hearing the bells chime as it swung shut behind him. The first thing that hit him was the cloying scent of overpowering incense. Candles were burning around the edges of the store their flames ranging from the typical orange to intense blue and even a sickly green colour. There was little by way of merchandise on display in the room and Ed recalled that the place dealt in low-skill alchemic solutions to people's problems.

'Good Morning, dearie.' An old woman hobbled out of the back room and fixed him with an indulgent smile. Shocking white hair curled in wisps around her pointy chin and she seemed to be missing most of her teeth. Her hands were gnarled and translucent with age but her dark slanted eyes glinted with a spark of intelligence. 'Something catch your interest?'

'Huang Lin?' He guessed, taking in the blue robes the woman was wearing. They were adorned with various arrays, outlined in silver, that he didn't recognise.

'Depends on who's asking,' the old woman's grin turned sharp as her eyes narrowed. She was obviously trying to work out who he was and he knew his apparel would give her no clue. He hadn't donned his trademark red cloak since he'd lost his alchemy and of course he didn't have the tell-tale pocket watch anymore.

'Edward Elric,' his quick eyes caught the brief flicker of emotion that ran across her face. It had looked to him like fear or apprehension but whether that was a result of his reputation, or something else entirely, he couldn't be sure. He was a known state alchemist after all and no-one outside the military knew he had lost his alchemy.

'What do you want?' She asked harshly.

'Somebody thinks you're up to no good' he said simply. Hawkeye had been just about beating him around the head with a dictionary trying to teach him the flowery military language of appeasement but he much preferred the more direct route. Tell people what the problem was and then make them fix it, or fix it for them if they refused.

'That bitch across the street,' the old lady said without preamble. 'Stupid harpy wouldn't know an array from a child's drawing.'

'Just let me look around,' he noticed the way her eyes kept flicking up to the roof and then back to his face every so often. 'If you're not hiding anything, then it shouldn't be a problem.'

'If you must,' she grumbled. 'I have to go check on my son.' She shot him a suspicious, hateful, look. 'I'm sure you can snoop around on your own.' Without another word she disappeared up the stairs with twice the amount of haste he would have expected from her fail frame. Something didn't sit right with him though he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. He had a quick look around but there was nothing that suggested any kind of alchemy was present or being used for nefarious purposes. He headed quietly up the stairs figuring that if anything untoward was occurring it would be there. The polished wood creaked under his feet as he ascended and, having lost the element of surprise, he trotted up the last few stairs to find himself in a surprisingly elegant room. Evidently, the shop did well.

'What are you doing up here?' The old lady appeared from a room to the left, shutting the door firmly behind her. She scowled at him and tried to usher him back downstairs before realising she couldn't physically move him. 'Get out.'

'Put a sock in it old lady,' he muttered.

He moved around her and wandered through the room. It was simple and lightly furnished in a very economic style he knew to be reminiscent of certain parts of Xing. A low dark wooden table stood in the centre with deep red cushions on the floor at each edge. The kitchen was an odd blend of modern and antique, a woven bamboo mat the only indication that one room had morphed into another. A few potted plants adorned various shelves and, other than a sharp knife glinting by the windowsill, there was absolutely nothing that seemed off or dangerous in any way. Still, there were three rooms left and he intended to search each one of them – the old woman was far too shifty to be innocent. She realised his intentions as he went to step towards the closest door on the left and quickly – far too quickly, he noted – inserted herself between him and the handle.

'Something to hide?' He raised an eyebrow, folding his hands over his chest.

'My son is not well,' she spat. 'He doesn't need to be woken by the likes of you, military dog.'

Judging by her reaction, he could tell he was right on the money. Whatever she didn't want him to see was hidden in that room.

'Gotta check everywhere,' he said unapologetically. 'So move your decrepit ass before I move it for you.'

Indecision flitted over her expression before she finally moved stiffly aside, her dark eyes positively hateful.

'I hope you rot in hell.'

'You wouldn't be the first,' he responded cheerfully as he slid the door open. He was almost disappointed when it revealed nothing more than exactly what the woman had told him. The small room was mostly bare but for the bed at the far end, and the nightstand beside it. Someone was clearly sleeping there; he could see dark hair spilling over the pillows though the person's face was buried in the blankets.

'Satisfied?' The old lady hissed as he started to move back out of the room.

'Yeah, yeah.' He said perhaps a little too loudly.

The dark-haired man stirred, shifting under the covers, and called out in a low voice that sent tremors of recognition flooding through Ed's body.

'Is that you, ma?'

'Yes dear,' she shot Ed an edgy glance and continued to shepherd him out of the room. 'Go back to sleep.'

'M'fine now,' the man mumbled through a yawn.

Ed couldn't place the voice – at least, not plausibly – but with absolute certainty, he knew he'd heard it before. He resisted the old woman's attempts to drag him bodily from the room, his mind whirring over the identity attached to the voice. He could come up with only one answer, but it was impossible.

'Who are you?' He demanded roughly.

The tension in the room skyrocketed as the man's head shot up from the blankets and his hands scrambled in the blankets searching for something.

'What's going on?' The dark-haired man brandished a knife he'd scrounged from under his pillow, eyes sweeping the room wildly and settling on nothing in particular. 'Who's there?'

Ed froze in shock and the old woman finally succeeded in pushing him out of the room.

'Run Roy!' She slammed both palms into Ed's chest with surprising strength, 'he's with the military.'

Her words galvanised the man into action and he leapt out of bed, not even stopping for shoes, as he gripped the knife in his teeth and proceeded to work his way out of the window. Within moments he was disappearing from sight and Ed belatedly realised he'd have to move if he didn't want the other man to get away. He pushed the old lady aside, wincing as her sharp nails gouged along his arm, and ran flat out down the stairs. He tripped on the bottom step and nearly flew head over heels, just managing to right himself and continue in his mad dash to the street. People were mulling curiously about, shooting him suspicious looks, as he scanned his surroundings for any hint of which way the man might have gone. His breath was heavy in his chest, more due to the shock than the exertion, and his hands were trembling with an emotion he could only characterise as fear. Fear that he may have miraculously found Roy, only to lose him again as suddenly, and as shockingly, as he had the first time. A panic induced haze settled over him as he turned around and raced back into the shop. He was up the stairs in two giant strides and prowling the living area with all the restless energy of a jungle cat. He turned the place inside out but there was absolutely no sign of the old lady. She had vanished as easily as Roy had, both disappearing like wraiths, and the only proof he had that they'd ever been there were the deep scratch marks on his right arm.

At least he had that proof. Otherwise it was easy to imagine how he could have deluded himself into fabricating the entire encounter.

Roy was dead.

Ed had seen his body and had attended his funeral, had watched as they buried him in the military cemetery alongside Maes Hughes and hundreds of other men and women who had died in the line of duty.

Roy had died, of that he had no doubt. Yet somehow, impossibly, he was alive. It made no sense. The dead could not be raised by alchemy or any other power whether it be mortal or immortal – he had learned that lesson the hard way.

The only logical conclusion was that he was mistaken. The man he had seen could not be Roy because Roy was dead.

He didn't buy it. His gut, his heart, his very soul was screaming that Roy was alive and had been doing so since he'd first heard the news of his death. Maybe that was why he had found it impossible to let go.

Hope rekindled in his chest; a tiny flame that, before, had been reduced to nothing but smoke and ash with every passing year.

Maybe he had lost Roy again, but this time he knew he could find him.

The first step was enlisting the help of the one other person he knew had never been able to let go. The one person he knew who would travel to the ends of the earth and brave any manner of uncertainty or death if it promised even the tiniest hope that Roy would be restored to them.

Riza Hawkeye.

…

It took him fifteen minutes to reach the military compound. It was too long. Every second he knew Roy was getting further and further away, possibly even out of central altogether. His heart was pounding in his chest with the unusual exertion, breath coming in quick gasps as he navigated the corridors and ignored the people who yelled at him to slow down. Part of him was agonising over the fact that Roy had run away, but he pushed it to the side. The reasons would matter later, for now he had to find him. He was breathless by the time he reached Hawkeye's office and barrelled through the door. The three men in the room leapt to their feet, hands on their holsters, as he bent over to brace his hands on his knees as he regained his breath. His hair was in complete disarray and flopping over his face, his cheeks red, and sweat was beading across his temple.

'Boss?' Havoc started cautiously, 'what're you..?'

'Riza,' Ed cut him off. 'I…saw him.' His breathing started to improve and he straightened, flicking his hair back over his shoulder.

'Saw who?' Riza eyed him curiously. She was the only one who hadn't reached for her firearm.

'Roy.' He saw the flicker of pain that sparked in her eyes before she quashed it ruthlessly. Before she could speak, he hurried on. 'At the shop that you sent me to, the one with the alchemy complaint. He was there, Riza. When he saw me, he ran.' He tried to read her expression but it was inscrutable. 'He's alive, I don't know how but he is. We have to find him.'

'The chief's…alive?' Havoc asked slowly.

'Why would he run?' Furey inquired flatly, 'abandon the military, abandon us?'

Ed ignored them, his gaze fixed on Riza's hard brown eyes.

'Roy is dead, Edward.' Her voice was calm, controlled, but he could sense the anger that coiled beneath them. 'He's dead. He isn't coming back.'

'I saw him.' He countered, almost desperately. 'What if I'm right? What if he is out there? Are we just going to do nothing?' His voice had risen to a shout and, for the first time, he saw unrestrained emotion pooling in her eyes. 'What harm is there in trying?'

'What harm?' Her voice turned flat, dead, as she purged it of all emotion. 'Edward, there is nothing more harmful than false hope.'

'It's not false hope.' He insisted stubbornly.

'Enough,' she held up her hand. 'I don't want to hear of it again, Edward. Do I make myself clear?'

His jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth, fingers curling into fists.

'I won't lose him again.'

'Damn it Edward,' she yelled. 'Just let it go. People don't come back from the dead.'

'I won't pretend to understand what's going on,' he said shortly. 'All I know is that I saw him, with my own eyes. He's alive and whether or not you help me, I am going to find him.'

'If he's alive,' Falman ventured cautiously. 'Maybe it's better we don't find him.'

'In what way would that be better?' Edward asked, his voice dangerously soft.

'Well if he's not dead, then he's abandoned his post.' Falman explained 'It's likely he'd be court martialled, tried as a deserter, and then sentenced to the firing squad.'

Ed blinked at him and then shook his head in disbelief.

'I shouldn't have bothered,' he growled. 'None of you give a shit.'

'Boss…' Havoc started but Ed ignored him.

'I'll find him on my own.' He spun on his heel and stormed out of the room without a second glance.

Riza's shoulders slumped infinitesimally as she brought a hand up to rub her brow, brown eyes closed in defeat.

'Colonel..?'

She could feel all the eyes in the room trained on her, most of them confused, some of them hopeful.

'Go,' she said finally. 'I'm sure I can manage without you for the day.'

They shuffled out eagerly, already just about won over by Ed's absolute certainty. When they were gone Riza opened her eyes again and finally allowed her composure to slip. She slumped down into her chair, a heavy weight settling around her shoulders. She didn't know what to think. Roy couldn't be alive. She had seen his body; cold and unmoving. She had seen the blue tinge around his lips and the limbs stiff with rigor mortis. She had checked frantically for a pulse, had screamed and threatened and cried while unseeing black eyes watched in stony silence.

She had watched as they'd lowered him into the ground, the nation's flag draped solemnly over the black coffin. She had been present for his posthumous promotion to General for his efforts in the civil war– an honour seldom bestowed on any man, let alone one in his early thirties. She had accepted command of his team, if only to keep them together, knowing that from that point onward they were directionless, purposeless.

She had struggled through five years of his absence. Five long years, completely unable to let go, to move on. He had been the only family she had left, her closest friend, her brother. Exactly what he had been to her, she wasn't sure she could even label.

She had accepted the fact that he was gone but that she would never let him go. It had been a fact she had clung to when it seemed she would simply fall apart at the seams.

Now, her entire world had been plunged back into the dark abyss of uncertainty and she just didn't know what to think. She didn't dare hope; she knew she wouldn't survive the fallout.

Only one thing was certain; if Roy was alive, she would kill him.

…

Ed had scoured the city for a week and was absolutely no closer to finding Roy than when he had first begun. For the first couple of days Breda had staked out the shop to see if the old lady, or Roy, would return but had seen nary a sign of them. It seemed they had just vanished without any of their possessions, although there were considerably few to begin with. Havoc and Falman had interviewed the neighbours but had had no luck. Barely anyone knew who they were beyond 'that old lady and her handsome son' and none knew where they could have gone. Fuery and Al had joined Ed in a grid by grid search of the city that involved examining records of tenants in every single residence and every single shop lease within the last five years before they set out to physically check some of the more promising ones. By the end of the week he had lost Breda, Falman and Fuery who had returned to the office with muttered apologies and dejected expressions. Havoc had remained, spending most of his free time helping them out but even his determination was wearing thin in light of their constant failure.

Ed spent every waking moment searching though part of him acknowledged that they might not even be in central anymore. He just couldn't bring himself to stop. It was too much like admitting defeat and that had never come easy to him at the best of times.

After a full month even Al's patience was beginning to evaporate.

'Brother?' Al cautiously ventured into the room his brother had holed himself up in. City records were strewn across the desk and piled up on the floor and Ed was slumped in the chair, head bowed and nose just about touching a stack of them. His gold hair, originally pulled back into a rough ponytail, was hanging limply over his shoulders and shielding his face from view.

'Brother, are you asleep?' He stepped lightly around the piles of records and up the desk. As he drew closer he could see that Ed's eyes were open and staring vacantly at the file his nose hovered above. His eyelashes fluttered as he slowly lifted his head to give Al the tiniest, most pathetic, smile he'd ever seen.

'Hey Al,' he croaked.

There were dark circles around his eyes and his face was unusually pale. It was clear he had been forgetting to eat or sleep, or perhaps deliberately avoiding them. He just hadn't looked this bad earlier and Al's eyes widened as he realised exactly why that was. Earlier, Ed had still been fired up though his energy was waning. Now, he seemed all but defeated.

'Come on,' Al tried hard to hide the disapproving judgement in his voice but failed miserably. 'You need to eat. Then you can go back to your search.'

'What's the point?' Ed looked away. 'He obviously doesn't want to be found.' His voice was flat and exhausted but Al could hear the pain resonating in every syllable. It wasn't often – in fact ever – that his brother admitted defeat and it killed him to hear him do it now. He just didn't know what to say.

'Come on,' he repeated instead. 'You'll feel better once you've eaten.'

'Why is he doing this?' Ed whispered as he looked up to fix Al with his gaze. 'Why would he run?' He was desperate for an answer that Al could never give him. In that moment Al was sure he'd never thought less of Mustang. What kind of man abandoned so many people, allowed them to think he was dead and then lived secretly under their noses for years?

You don't know the full story, he reminded himself. He could have a perfectly good reason…he just found that hard to believe. What possible reason could there be for putting the people you love, who loved you, in so much pain?

'I don't know, brother.' Al said softly, his friendly face twisted into a deep frown. 'I don't know.' He longed to pull Ed into his arms and somehow erase the suffering but life didn't work like that. It never had.

'Always knew he was a bastard,' Ed smiled in a way that was completely bereft of any joy. It was akin to a twitch of the lips more indicative of self-loathing than amusement.

'When we find him,' Al said sternly, 'you know I'm going to have to punch him for being such an ass, right?'

He wasn't sure if it was the sentiment or the uncommon presence of the swearword that brought the first real smile to his brother's lips he'd seen in weeks.

…

'That's her train!' Al pointed at the steam engine with obvious excitement. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, a wide grin literally stretching from ear to ear. He had spent all morning checking his short hair in the mirror, finding it unsatisfactory, and hurriedly attempting to brush it into submission. The same scene had probably replayed itself at least ten times before Ed had forcibly pushed him out of the bathroom in order to get his customary morning shower. He had stayed at his brother's rented apartment for a few days courtesy of a non-optional invitation and a near kidnapping when he had started to refuse.

He wasn't too prideful to admit that it had done him some good. His brother was the sun personified, after all, and even the gloomiest human being couldn't hide from his light forever.

Ed was standing with his arms crossed, the very picture of boredom, as Al bounced beside him. That his childlike exuberance remained despite everything they'd been through was nothing short of a miracle. It was as if, somehow, all the darkness they'd come across had been unable to touch him. Unable to change him in any way, though it had done its work on Ed.

'Come on!' Al grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the train as the doors opened and people began to stream out. Ed allowed himself to be pulled good-naturedly, just enjoying basking in the warm glow of his brother's innocence.

'Alphonse!' A loud shriek somehow managed to slice straight through the surrounding cacophony of sound. Heads turned as a pretty dark-haired girl emerged from the train, a tiny panda clutching for dear life to her neck and one of her braids. She was dressed in her typical bright pink silk and carrying a rather large suitcase as easily as if it was a loaf of bread.

'May!' Al greeted her, his voice several decibels lower but no less enthusiastic.

May dropped her suitcase to the ground as she crushed Al in a hug that would have put a bear to shame. Xiao-Mei squeaked in protest and abandoned ship, jumping neatly over to Ed's shoulder and burying her cold nose into his neck. She was forced to flee a moment later when May released Al to give Ed the same treatment.

'How have you been?' She asked as she stepped back to survey him. 'Alphonse told me you weren't doing so well when he left.'

'Oh he did, did he?' Ed glared at his brother who shrugged sheepishly. 'I'm fine, May.' He met her wide dark eyes and smiled genuinely.

'I hope so,' she said solemnly, holding his gaze for a moment and then ruining the sombre mood with a bright laugh. 'Let's go eat – I'm starving.' She smiled at Al who had picked her suitcase up and shyly reached out to grasp his free hand and twine her fingers around his. Their shoulders bumped together every so often as they walked and Ed observed them with the protective fondness of an older brother. After a few moments, though, his thoughts darkened into a wistful nostalgia. Thoughts of Roy preyed on his mind like circling vultures ever watchful for the slightest moment of weakness that would allow them to overwhelm him.

'What on earth are you doing, Fullmetal?'

Dark eyes watched him curiously, one singular eyebrow raised in the expression that seemed reserved for him alone.

'Holding your hand,' Ed raised an eyebrow right back. He had, somewhat unthinkingly, just reached out and grabbed Roy's hand when he had noticed a large tear in the normally immaculate white glove. Still, he wasn't about to admit that to the man. For all intents and purposes he had planned it.

'Yes,' Roy huffed, 'but why?' He seemed of two minds about the whole thing. He was protesting verbally but, Ed noted, he had yet to pull his hand away.

'There's a tear,' Ed traced the rip gently with his fingers. He looked up when Roy's hand stiffened in his grasp. There was some undefinable emotion in the other man's eyes that seemed to give them depth despite the lack of contrast between pupil and iris. For a moment, Ed was trapped. His gaze was locked with Roy's as a million questions seemed to flit across the older man's usually carefully controlled features. One even seemed to hang upon his lips as they parted slightly but what he might have asked, Ed would never know. In an instant Roy had shut it all down and was withdrawing in every sense of the word.

'Yes, there is.' He said finally and turned to walk away.

Ed stared after him, wondering what strangeness was overcoming them both and when it had come about, when Roy tilted his head towards him briefly.

'You coming, Fullmetal?' The words were said in the same lazy drawl as always, but something undefinable had changed and Ed knew with a fatalistic certainty that things would never quite be the same again.

He was dragged from his thoughts by a question he couldn't recall.

'…huh?' He blinked at his brother who was watching him with worry in his eyes.

'I said, would you like to eat here?' Al repeated patiently.

'Oh,' Ed took in the little restaurant they were standing outside and then shook his head. 'Nah you two eat without me.' He gave the brightest smile he could manage, 'I'm just going to head home.'

'Brother…' Al said doubtfully.

'I swear,' he held his hands up innocently. 'I'm just going to walk home, no funny business.'

Al grinned in spite of himself, 'brother you could find trouble in a church.'

'Well I won't look for it,' Ed amended. 'Now go eat with your girlfriend.'

'Brother?!' Al looked scandalised, his cheeks flushing as he tried to look anywhere but at May.

'Don't tease my boyfriend,' May stuck her tongue out at Ed. She smiled brightly at Al when he turned to face her and Ed suddenly felt intrusive. He backed away, muttering goodbye, and set off down the street. He tried desperately to think of pink elephants or anything to distract himself but he could feel the memories prowling along the edges of his mind. It was useless. He'd never been particularly adept at forcing himself not to think of something. In the end he always wound up thinking about it more when he tried not to, then if he'd simply given in and just thought about it in the first place.

He just didn't want to go down that particular memory lane. He never emerged unscathed.

Roy was leaning casually against the bar, dressed impeccably as always, and chatting up what had to be the fifth or sixth woman that evening. It was like watching a tiger stalk an unsuspecting lamb, somehow horrifying yet undeniably fascinating at the same time. The way Roy moved in so smoothly, all striking dark looks and easy charm, it was no wonder his target never stood a chance. They never even saw him coming.

What Ed didn't understand was why he did it.

The man had orchestrated a very convincing show that had the world completely fooled so long as they never looked any closer, but Ed hadn't been able to help himself. He saw the way Roy treated it as a game, the way he took some kind of pride in himself with every so-called conquest, and he called bullshit. It was hard to know with that man what was truth and what was a carefully sculpted half-truth designed to lead someone in the direction of his choosing. Ed thought the secret was in his eyes. It was only for a moment, so quick that it wouldn't be seen unless someone was already watching.

Ed was watching now and was certain of what he had seen. It was an act. It was always an act with Roy, to the point where Ed wasn't even sure he knew who the man really was. What he did know, was that he wanted to find out.

He started moving before the thought had completely solidified in his mind. He was fairly confident that Roy wouldn't kill him for what he was about to do, but there was just enough uncertainty that he was glad the older man wasn't wearing his ignition gloves. He fixed the brunette Roy was talking to with his fiercest glare and sauntered over to stand at his side. Roy glanced at him, his eyes curious as a smirk slid over his face.

'Something you wanted, Fullmetal?'

'Honestly,' Ed rolled his eyes, wondering if Roy would even play along. 'I leave you alone for five seconds…'

Roy's eyebrow twitched briefly but there wasn't even the slightest hint of confusion on his face.

'What can I say?' He responded easily, somehow managing to look sheepish yet devilish at the same time. His dark eyes were boring holes into Ed's who had to struggle to keep up the charade. 'It's my cross to bear.'

'Don't you mean mine?' Ed grumbled and turned to face the woman as she huffed loudly. 'Yes, can I help you?' He bumped his shoulder ostentatiously into Roy's trying his best to give the right impression without actually having to do anything obvious.

The woman looked from him to Roy and her eyes widened. Ed raised an eyebrow pointedly.

'Oh,' she stepped back. 'Um, I'll just leave you guys alone then.'

Ed watched her flee until Roy made a very purposeful grunt he supposed was to catch his attention. Time to face the music, then.

'Do I even want to hear the explanation for this?' The older man wondered. Though his face was as unhelpful as always Ed could tell he was completely flummoxed. He took a moment to mentally pat himself on the back – it wasn't often that happened – and tried to think of how to explain himself without sounding jealous. Which he wasn't. At all.

'Saving your sorry ass,' he said lamely. He stared resolutely at the bottles of alcohol lined up on the shelf behind the bar, well aware that Roy was watching him though he did it so subtly he could just as easily have been looking at something else entirely. The older man had twisted so that his elbows were resting on the bar, his body turned towards the room so, to any casual observer; he seemed to be scoping it for his next target.

'Saving me?' Roy repeated, his tone warring between amusement and incredulity. 'I was unaware I needed saving from that lovely lady. My god,' his eyes widened, 'she could have been stashing any manner of weapons in that ample bosom.'

Ed snorted, more in disbelief than amusement. Just who did he think he was fooling? He was silent for a while, staring at the other man surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye, before he decided to throw caution to the wind.

'You don't always have to play a part, Roy.' He said quietly.

When Roy eventually turned to look at him, his dark eyes were inscrutable. He held Ed's gaze for a long moment before he dropped elegantly into the seat next to him and called out for the barkeep.

'I'll have a scotch,' a smirk slithered onto his face, 'and an apple juice for Fullmetal.'

Ed bristled, his sensitivity to anything that even remotely suggested he was short or otherwise less than a man causing him to react with instant hostility.

'Who the hell are you calling so small he could use a thimble as a shot glass, you bastard?'

'I believe that would be you, Fullmetal.' The older man's eyes glinted with mischief.

'Bastard,' Ed said inventively.

'Pipsqueak,' Roy countered.

'Jerk.' Ed's lips curled in an involuntary smile.

'Brat.'

'Moron.'

'Runt.'

'What is it with you and cracking short jokes?' Ed demanded good-naturedly.

Roy just smirked in that insufferable way of his and downed the shot of scotch the barkeep had placed before him. Slapping money on the bar he rose fluidly from the chair and straightened his coat.

'Goodnight, Fullmetal.' He turned to walk away but paused, 'and thanks.'

Ed feigned shock.

'What…a thank you? From the bastard colonel himself?'

'Do try not to let it go to your head.' Roy's lips twitched, 'your body might not be able to carry the added weight.'

Ed couldn't even summon up his usual level of angry bluster as he watched Roy saunter out of the room, hands tucked casually into his pockets and back straight from years of military training.

He was jerked rudely out of his thoughts as someone crashed into him and sent them both sprawling unceremoniously on the ground. He landed on something soft, smacking his forehead onto what felt like a chin and effectively stunning himself for a few seconds. The body underneath him groaned but seemed similarly incapacitated.

'What kind of idiot stops dead in the middle of the street?' A low voice growled from beneath him.

Ed froze and couldn't, for the life of him, force his eyes to open.

He knew that voice, and the man it belonged to, and wouldn't it just be right that he would literally stumble accidentally into him when he'd been searching for weeks?

It was in moments like these that he knew he wasn't overreacting in saying that the universe just had it in for him.

'Roy?' He asked hesitantly, lifting his head up.

'Do I know you?' The other man seemed genuinely confused, though it had always been hard to tell with Roy.

Ed forced his eyes open and stared into dark eyes he'd almost given up hope of seeing again. There was something different about them, though, and it wasn't just the actual confusion swirling in their depths. They seemed a bit lighter, duller even. Still, none of it mattered.

'You really are alive,' he breathed.

'Just barely,' Roy brushed dirt out of his hair, his gaze flicking about uncertainly. 'Think you can walk?' He coughed lightly, 'I kind of need my legs back.'

'Oh, sorry.' Ed leapt to his feet, completely baffled by what was happening. He was bouncing through emotions like a ping pong ball and having trouble settling on any particular one. Relief and no small amount of confusion were currently prominent, but anger was lurking close behind them. He watched as Roy's hands crept along the ground, obviously searching for something, until his hands came in contact with a long wooden staff. He got slowly to his feet, leaning heavily on the stick and looking more like he'd just survived a collision with a bull rather than another person. He dusted himself off and then glanced around again, his gaze never resting in one place for too long.

'Well alright then, goodbye.' He said politely and began to walk off as if he wasn't supposed to be dead and buried in a military cemetery.

Ed didn't know what to do. Anger was railing at his self-control and it was all he could do to hold it back. He knew it wouldn't help if he just started yelling at the man. Something was clearly wrong and, while Roy was a good actor, it just wasn't in him to abandon the people who depended on him. Something – or someone – was responsible and Ed was willing to bet his one remaining arm that the old lady – Huang Lin – was the key to the mystery.

He headed off after Roy, keeping a safe distance behind him so as not alert the older man to the fact that he was being followed. He needn't have bothered. Roy never looked back once. As Ed watched him meander down the street, tapping the stick in front of him, it suddenly clicked. He had noticed that his eyes were that bit duller and that his gaze never seemed to settle when he spoke but he hadn't put it together, hadn't come to the obvious conclusion.

Roy was blind, but it just didn't make sense.

He knew doctor Marcoh had used a Philosopher's stone to give Roy back his eyesight after the gate had taken it so how was he blind now? The old lady had clearly done a number on him and Ed felt fury settle, hot and burning, into his bones. He was going to have words with the old crone and for her sake he hoped whatever she'd done to Roy was reversible.

If it wasn't there wouldn't be enough left of her to bury in a matchbox - he knew a whole room of people who'd want a piece of her.

He tailed Roy until he disappeared into a small house on a street he didn't recognise. It was nothing much to look at, seeming rundown with paint peeling off the walls and wood rotting at the edges. The windows were dirty and impossible to see through so Ed watched the door for a little while to make sure he wasn't going to disappear somewhere else when he left to get backup. His first instinct was to march in there and demand answers but he knew things could so easily go wrong and he didn't want Roy to vanish into the city once again.

…

It hadn't taken Ed half as much convincing as he'd thought to get Hawkeye to agree to his plan. He had expected more arguments or accusations that he was seeing things and he wouldn't have blamed her. He knew she had to do everything she could to prevent that seed of hope taking root lest it destroy her if it proved false.

He would have understood, but it had never eventuated. She had simply held his gaze for a few moments, her brown eyes piercing, and then said one quiet sentence.

'I trust you, Edward, but if you're wrong, I don't think I can forgive you.'

'I can live with that,' he'd said knowing she would understand what he meant.

Hawkeye had tasked Falman with finding a safe place to stow their soon-to-be captives away from the military while the rest of them headed out to acquire them, making one quick pit-stop to pick Al and May (who had insisted on coming with) up from their apartment. An hour later they were in position around the house and ready to put the plan into action.

'Is everyone ready?' Hawkeye's voice floated through the radio in Ed's hand. The question was followed by a chorus of agreement.

'Good. Havoc and I will enter through the front door and gauge what we're dealing with. No one is to move until my signal, is that clear? That means you, Edward.'

'Yeah I got it,' he replied. He hated being sidelined but this time he knew it was for the best. His presence would clue the old lady in instantly and they needed the element of surprise if this was to be done quickly and quietly. Hawkeye hadn't explicitly said it but Ed knew she also wanted to make sure they weren't going to kidnap some poor guy, who just happened to look like Roy Mustang, and his mother.

'Alright, we're moving in.'

Hawkeye and Havoc moved onto the street in tandem. Both were wearing police uniforms that Breda had acquired, through a connection that he refused to tell them about, and had hidden their firearms in the folds of the clothing. They were also sporting police identification badges that Fuery had whipped up for them with remarkable speed. Havoc knocked on the door and then stepped back, his hand ghosting over the area where his firearm was hidden as Hawkeye did the same. There were a few moments of tense silence and then the door swung open.

'Can I help you?' Roy asked politely as collective gasps filtered through the radio.

'Brother, he is alive!' Al breathed.

'You doubted me?' Ed asked with a smugness he didn't really feel.

'Keep the line clear,' Breda instructed sternly.

'…are you still there?' Roy asked after almost twenty seconds of silence. His brow was furrowed quizzically, his gaze resting somewhere between Havoc and Hawkeye.

'Uh yeah,' Havoc glanced at Hawkeye, whose brown eyes were wide with shock, and seemed to realise he needed to take charge. 'I'm Officer Smith and this is Officer Ward,' he gestured to Hawkeye.

'Officers?' Roy said hesitantly, 'is there a problem?'

'May we come inside?' Hawkeye had schooled her expression into its usual blankness, her gaze fixed on his face.

'Yes, of course.' Roy seemed uncertain but he stepped aside and allowed them to enter the house. The door closed behind them and Ed's line of sight was cut off, though he could still hear the conversation through the radio.

'Earlier this morning a dangerous criminal escaped from prison,' Hawkeye was explaining. 'We've been conducting random searches all day; it is believed he is seeking refuge in someone's house.'

'Well he isn't here,' Roy told them. 'This house is protected.'

'How so?'

'My mother is an alchemist. There are many protective arrays that will prevent intruders from gaining access to the house.'

'His mother?' Fuery whispered disbelievingly. 'What lies has this lady…'

'Keep the line clear.' Breda snapped.

'Are you?' Hawkeye asked, and there was an unidentifiable emotion in her tone.

'No.' Roy said shortly. 'Is there anything else?'

'We'll still have to search the place,' Havoc said.

A faint noise crackled through the radio that had originated, seemingly, from under the house.

'Are you alone?' Hawkeye's voice was unruffled.

'No, my mother is downstairs.'

'Alright,' Breda instructed. 'When Hawkeye gives the signal, Al, May and myself will head downstairs to apprehend the old lady while Fuery and Ed keep an eye on the perimeter.'

'Be careful Al,' Ed warned in lieu of arguing. 'That old hag is an alchemist.'

'I will, brother.' Al replied indulgently.

'Watch out for those protective arrays,' he added.

'I know.'

'Sorry about this, chief.' Havoc said apologetically. There was silence for a few seconds and then, 'that felt unfair, but strangely satisfying.'

'Target neutralised,' Hawkeye ignored him. 'Breda proceed with caution, we'll watch the door on this end.'

'Roger that,' Breda replied. 'I'm going in through the window. Al?'

'There aren't any arrays that I can see,' Al said doubtfully. 'May?'

'They could be on the other side,' she pointed out. 'Maybe one of us should go through the door?'

'I'll go,' Hawkeye spoke up. 'Havoc can watch Roy, he's not going anywhere.'

'Alright, move-'

'Belay that,' Hawkeye interrupted, 'she's coming up the stairs. Wait until we distract her, and then take her out.'

'Roger that,' Breda replied for all of them.

There was silence for a few seconds, and then all hell broke loose.

For Ed it was nothing short of torturous forcing himself to stay outside, on the sidelines, while almost everyone else fought. Especially when he could only hear fragments of what was going on.

'Now, Al!'

A loud crash followed by the unmistakable sound of alchemy.

'I can't pin her down – she's too fast.'

Heavy breathing.

'How is she so goddamn quick?' Havoc swore.

'On your right, Al!'

'May can you-?'

'What's she – oh shit. No Hawkeye, no, come on I know you threaten but you don't really want to shoot me.'

'I can't stop it – move you idiot! Havoc?!'

'What the hell is happening?' Ed snarled. 'I'm coming in.'

'Negative,' Hawkeye said and then swore. 'Retain your position; you'll just get in the way. Havoc, MOVE!'

A gunshot sliced through the air and there was silence for one chilling second.

'Havoc?'

'…shit that fuckin' hurt, Riza.'

'I've got her,' Al announced breathlessly. 'She's unconscious.'

'Breda, bring the car around.' Hawkeye ordered, 'Havoc's injured.'

'Because you shot me.' Havoc grumbled.

'You shot him?' Breda laughed, 'finally made good on that threat, eh Hawkeye?'

'I've never seen alchemy like that before,' Al said thoughtfully.

'That was alchemy?'

'Yes, you can see the array she used is tattooed on her hand. It must have cost a great deal of energy' he mused, 'she couldn't keep it up very long.'

'Screw this,' Ed muttered and leapt up from his position. There really wasn't any reason he had to stay there anymore.

'Tattooed on her hand?' May asked suddenly, sounding shocked.

'Yeah, why?'

Ed walked through the door, his jaw dropping as he took in the scene.

'Who set off the bomb?'

The house was in complete disarray. There wasn't one piece of furniture that hadn't been disturbed or otherwise violently attacked, half the wood in the floor had been transmuted, presumably by Al, and the door to the basement was lodged firmly in the roof. Havoc was bleeding on the floor, a bullet in his thigh, while Hawkeye had ripped off her jacket and was using it to staunch the flow. Al and May were crouched over the old lady, the dark-haired girl examining the tattoo with something like disgust on her face, and Roy was unconscious in the middle of the room with debris scattered around, and on, him.

'The slave seal,' May dropped the old lady's hand and stood up. 'I didn't think there were any left.'

'The slave seal?' Al repeated, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Ed moved closer to examine it himself, turning the old lady's wrist over until he could see the array inked into her palm. It was ridiculously complicated and he could barely make it out.

'About thirty years ago the Emperor had ten Alkahestrists work on what we call 'The Slave seal'.' May explained, her voice bitter. 'It was supposed to give them complete power over another human being. They succeeded, to an extent. When activated the seal allows the Alkahestrist to use their chi to influence the chi of another and force them to do their will. It's essentially a battle for domination and the Alkahestrist can only maintain it for a certain amount of time, depending on the strength of their victim.'

'So that's how she had Colonel Hawkeye shoot Havoc,' Al frowned. 'It only worked for about ten seconds though, and then she all but collapsed.'

'It was enough.' Hawkeye said darkly.

'I'm not sure,' May admitted, 'she may have been too weak to keep it up, but it's strange.' She paused, frowning. 'To have this tattoo…she would have to be one of the ten Alkahestrists who designed it.'

'Why?' Ed continued to scan the tattoo, fascinated by how intricate it was.

'It was outlawed after one of them tried to use it to have the Emperor assassinated. He had them all executed and their research destroyed.'

'This is why alchemy makes my stomach turn,' Havoc shuddered from over in the corner. 'The creepy things it can do.' He grunted as Hawkeye shifted her hands, 'easy there. No need to finish the job.'

'Shut up,' she muttered.

'Oh I'm sorry,' May rushed over. 'I can help.'

'Uh guys,' Breda's voice came through the radio. 'You're not going to believe this, but someone slashed our tires.'

'What?' Haweye's voice was dangerously soft and everyone reflexively flinched.

'Every single one,' Breda confirmed with a courage born of not being in the same room. 'I've only got the one spare.'

'Call Falman,' she rubbed a hand across her brow leaving a thin streak of blood there. 'Tell him to bring the van.'

'Got it.'

Ed was still examining the array, a thoughtful frown on his face.

'I don't get it,' he declared.

'What don't you get, brother?' Al crouched down beside him.

'If she had this on her,' he wondered, 'why didn't she use it to stop me?'

'Maybe she didn't have the strength?' Al offered, 'it does seem to require a lot of power.'

'Or she didn't want you to know she had it,' Fuery spoke up for the first time. He was still stationed outside and hadn't moved from his post. 'I mean, if it's illegal and all…'

'There's something fishy going on,' Ed muttered. 'Where does Mustang fit into all this?' He glanced over at the man, lying serenely amongst the wreckage, and had to fight not to rush over. Roy wasn't going to disappear, or die, again so therefore he didn't need to leech onto him to prevent it from happening. He'd done a good job of distracting himself so far with the alchemical mystery but now that Roy had taken root in his thoughts, he wasn't going to leave anytime soon. He stood up in what he hoped was a slow, dignified, manner and made his way over.

'I was wondering the same thing,' Hawkeye said quietly as she came up to stand beside him. 'He didn't recognise me.'

'Yeah, he's definitely lost his memory,' Ed traced the man's facial structure with his eyes. 'She must have had something to do with it.'

'She must have orchestrated it,' Hawkeye pointed out. 'He died, or was made to look like he had. That takes planning, forethought. It wasn't opportunistic Edward, she wanted him.'

'We'll find out why.' He said confidently, a dark edge to his tone.

'Yes.' Her expression hardened. 'We will.'

…

It was a tense drive to the place Falman had organised for them. One of the safe houses that Mustang had set up for him and his team, it was completely unknown to the military and well equipped to handle a variety of situations. There had been a running joke in the office that Mustang had a book hidden somewhere in which he had written down literally every situation he could think of and at least three solutions for almost all of them. Havoc claimed to have actually seen it one time and had spread the rumour that Mustang's number one fear was 'the universe runs out of miniskirts' and that his only solution had been 'have Hawkeye shoot me'.

Ed had spent the majority of the trip with his eyes glued to Mustang's face, as though he was afraid that if he looked away the man would simply vanish. He didn't need to look at Hawkeye to know she felt the same way. He could feel her sharp gaze like needles on the back of his neck. The whole scene brought back memories he didn't care to recall.

Silence.

It was overwhelming. The white-washed walls of the hospital seemed to drain the sound from the air, leaving the atmosphere bereft of life. Ed was pacing up and down the room, watching the clock as minutes defied the laws of physics and stretched impossibly to encompass entire hours. Riza was sitting straight backed in a waiting chair, her face blank and her fingers bone white against the dark wood. Al was watching with fear in his eyes and his heart on his sleeve, still thin and gaunt and barely out of the hospital himself. Havoc and Breda had sequestered themselves in the corner. Breda, stone-faced and rigid, couldn't seem to lift his gaze from the floor. Havoc, jittery with the need to light up a cigarette, was tapping unconscious patterns onto his leg, his mouth set in a firm line.

Fuery was pale and shaking, balled up against the wall with his face buried in his knees and his glasses abandoned beside him. Falman had left to scrounge for information and hadn't returned.

The Brigadier-General had taken an unexpected turn for the worse, they were told. The doctors didn't know why, or how, just that he was inexplicably dying.

Dying.

The word seemed to rattle around Ed's brain like a cacophony of pots and pans crashing to the ground over and over again. The meaning of the word seemed at once to escape him, and yet fill him with a chilling desolation that permeated through his very core.

He needed to take action, to do something, anything, to fight the feeling of utter uselessness that dogged him.

'Don't you dare die, you hear me bastard?' He yelled furiously, shattering the silence with a dark satisfaction. 'Or I'll kill you myself.'

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Roy clear in his mind's eye. Only he wasn't unconscious, his chest moving gently with the rhythm of his breathing.

He was dead.

His skin was grey, his lips tinged blue. Wild black locks hung limp and lifeless over dark eyes that were wide open, yet unseeing.

Sometimes, in his nightmares, those eyes would be closed to begin with. An invisible wind would ruffle his uniform, giving the illusion of life where none was to be found. He would stumble forward desperately, hands reaching out to touch, voice catching in his throat, and those dark eyes would snap open. Roy would begin to get up, almost zombie-like, from the mortician's table and look straight through Ed as if he wasn't even there. Then, he would simply dissolve into dust just as Ed's fingers brushed his lapel.

It was right up there with the nightmares he still had of Alphonse. In one Ed and Al would be walking together, laughing and joking. Al, in his real body, and Ed with his real arm and he would allow himself a sigh of contentment that he had righted his mistake. Then, he would jolt awake in his dream and Al would be at his side only it wasn't Al any more. Sometimes it was the suit of armour, red eyes glowing with angry blame that Al was incapable of holding. Other times it would look just like Al but then it would speak without opening its mouth and the voice would sound metallic, and he would realise with horror that it was just a painted automail version of his brother.

But the worst nightmares were the ones in which he was alone. It would always look exactly like the Gate of Truth had looked; a wide expanse of endless nothingness, a single door, and a sense of complete and utter desolation. In that dream, he had failed everything. In that dream, he had lost everyone he cared about. In that dream, he was always begging the gate to take him instead.

'We're here,' Riza placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 'Go get some rest, Edward. It'll be awhile before either of them wakes up.'

At her words the tiredness he had been fighting to keep at bay swamped him. He nodded, knowing he couldn't exactly argue when it was all he could do to keep his eyes from closing.

'Bedrooms are upstairs,' Falman killed the ignition.

Ed stepped out of the car, turning back around to say something but Riza beat him to it.

'I'll watch him.' She met his gaze, and he saw they were both on the same page. Neither of them was going to let Roy out of their sight, unless the other was watching him.

Ed was upstairs within minutes, too tired to bother taking in the house or its surroundings, and located a bed that he collapsed onto with relief. Sleep overtook him with surprising swiftness and, before long; he was dead to the world.

…

He dreamt, inevitably, of Roy. At first, it was a memory.

'What the hell did you think you were doing, you bastard?' Ed was pacing in a tight line, snarling like a caged tiger.

'Shopping for groceries,' Mustang said drily. 'Oh no wait, that isn't right. What was I…oh yes of course – saving your life?' He raised an eyebrow, 'I won't ask you to be grateful because, quite frankly, I'd prefer it if the world didn't spin off its axis in shock but how about you stop yelling at me?'

'That isn't your job, Sir.' Hawkeye stepped in smoothly before Ed could launch off on a tirade.

'Excuse me, lieutenant?' Mustang was probably aiming for imposing but it was somewhat thwarted by the fact that he was slumped against a wall and bleeding from a hole in his chest.

'You are the commanding officer, and therefore the higher priority.' She reminded him sternly. 'We are supposed to keep you alive, and you are supposed to aid us by not throwing yourself into the line of fire. It's a very simple concept, sir.'

'Yes, thank you lieutenant.' Mustang groused. 'Next time I'll just sit on the sidelines and watch you both get killed, shall I?'

'Thank you, Sir.' Hawkeye said at the same time as Ed's, 'You're damn right, you will.' They shared a brief look of exasperated camaraderie when Mustang did the equivalent of a juvenile sulk and closed his eyes as if he was pretending they weren't there.

'We can take care of ourselves, sir.' Hawkeye sounded as though she had repeated the very same argument countless times.

'Of that I have no doubt,' he said tiredly. 'What I don't believe, is that you will.'

'Who are you calling so short he could use a safety vest as a lifeboat?' Ed snapped.

'Really, Fullmetal?' Mustang smirked, 'don't you think you're getting a little too sensitive? There wasn't a single word in that sentence that made reference to your short stature.'

'You were thinking it,' Ed challenged. 'Bastard.'

'Idiot.'

'Prat.'

'Enough.' Hawkeye gestured to the van skidding to a halt a few metres away from them. 'Get in the car, both of you.' She cocked her gun, holding it almost lazily in her hand. 'If I hear one word that doesn't imply imminent death, so help me I will shoot you both. Sir,' she added as she turned her gaze to Mustang. He nodded meekly and accepted Ed's silent offer to help him stand, allowing the younger man to brace him as he got slowly to his feet. Ed bit back a groan; the man was certainly no lightweight. While Hawkeye's back was turned as she spoke quickly to the driver, Mustang turned his head slightly his breath ghosting along Ed's neck as he whispered.

'I think we made mother angry.'

Ed bit back a laugh and was immediately glad he had when Hawkeye glared at them over her shoulder.

'What do you mean, we?' He said in reply, 'Pretty sure you started it.'

Mustang just hummed noncommittally in response.

Then the pleasant scene morphed into a nightmare.

Mustang seemed to flinch away from Ed, stumbling over himself to get away.

'Who are you?' His voice was dark, suspicious.

The bullet hole in his chest was staining his uniform red, but he didn't seem to notice it.

Ed stared at him, dumbfounded, feeling the missing warmth of the other man at his side with a keen sense of loss. He reached out his hand.

'It's Ed,' he searched Mustang's face for recognition but found none.

'Stay back.' The older man threw a hand up as if he was going to snap, but seemed to forget how. He stared at his fingers for a moment and then his gaze drifted past them to lock onto Ed's.

'What's happening to me?' He asked hollowly.

'I…I don't know,' Ed couldn't answer him.

'You failed.' Hawkeye said flatly. There was a cruel edge to her eyes that seemed to warp her face. 'You couldn't save him, just like you couldn't save your brother.'

'No,' Ed said desperately. 'Roy's alive, and I saved Al. I brought him back from the gate.'

'No,' Hawkeye chuckled and her smile twisted with malice. 'You failed them both. You let them die, didn't you?'

'It's okay, Brother.' Al's voice floated from somewhere he couldn't make out. 'I don't blame you.'

'Al?' He spun around, but there was only blackness behind him. 'Don't go.'

'I'm dead, Brother.' Al said apologetically, 'I'm already gone.'

'No!' He yelled, 'I won't let this happen.'

'You can't change the past,' Hawkeye tutted.

He turned back around to find Mustang examining his hand like he had forgotten what it was for.

'What have you done to him?' He yelled furiously.

'Only what you let me do,' Hawkeye cackled and suddenly it was no longer her standing there but the old lady.

Roy opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He panicked mutely, his eyes wide and boring into Ed's with something akin to pleading.

'Only what you let me do,' the old lady's voice echoed.

…

Ed woke to sweaty sheets, twisted and tangled around him. His hair was damp and clinging to his face, his breathing heavy as if he had run a marathon. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, combing out matted knots with his fingers, and drew a deep, shuddering, breath.

It wasn't real.

Al was safe and alive and completely human. He hadn't failed his brother, and he wouldn't fail Roy. He would figure out what the old lady had done to him, and he would fix it.

Pushing the sheets aside, he climbed out of the bed and made his way over to the small bathroom in the corner. There was a sink so he turned the tap and let the cold water pool in his hands before bringing it up to his face.

After he was done he wandered out of the room and headed down the stairs to where he assumed everyone else would be. He wasn't sure what time it was but the light indicated he had at least slept the night. The house was of moderate size and sparsely furnished. There wasn't much by way of ornaments or paintings, and the walls were unvarnished wood. As he entered the kitchen, Al looked up from where he was preparing toast and smiled.

'Brother, I was just about to come wake you.'

'What time is it?' Ed slumped into a chair at the small wooden table.

'Ten,' Al brought one of the plates over and placed it in front of him. 'Hawkeye had to go, but she left Havoc and Fuery.' He went back to making more toast. 'Mustang's still unconscious but the old lady woke up shortly after you fell asleep,' he looked up uneasily, 'Havoc's been interrogating her but she won't say anything.'

'Not for long,' Ed chewed his toast viciously.

'Brother,' Al hesitated, 'Hawkeye said we weren't to let you near her. At least not yet anyway.'

'Try and stop me,' Ed tore off another piece with his teeth.

'I will if I have to,' Al said quietly.

Ed looked up into his little brother's steely gaze and he knew he would try…and succeed probably since Ed didn't have his alchemy to rely on any more.

'Fine.' He finished murdering his toast. 'Anything else?' He couldn't really keep the edge out of his voice and he hated himself for it when Al winced.

'Well, she said not to tell Mustang anything if he does wake up'.

Ed could see the logic. They didn't know how or why the man had lost his memory, and they didn't know what the old lady had been telling him. It was better they kept him in the dark until they knew more. It wasn't like he would believe them, anyway.

'Makes sense,' he admitted somewhat grudgingly.

'Good,' Al let out a happy little sigh of relief. 'I was expecting more of an argument.'

'Hmph,' Ed grumbled but couldn't stay mad under the light of his brother's vibrant smile. 'Where's May?'

An adorable flush lit Al's cheeks and he ducked his head, focusing intently on finishing spreading the toast.

'She was just here,' he mumbled. 'She left to go get the research we brought back from Xing. That old lady's an Alkahestrist, so the information could be useful.'

'The slave seal,' Ed recalled.

'Yeah,' Al piled the toast onto one plate. 'She thinks it's likely that whatever the old lady's done to Mustang, it's got to do with Alkahestry.'

'How could it cause someone to lose their memory?' Ed frowned; sure he'd never heard of any kind of Alchemy or Alkahestry that could affect people like that.

'She doesn't know if it's possible.' Al picked the plate up, 'but it might be. She did say that for any long lasting Alkahestry the array would have to be present constantly – like the tattoo on the old lady's hand. Maybe you could find out if Mustang has anything like that?' He headed for the door, 'he's in the room upstairs at the far end of the hall. Make sure you lock the door behind you – the key's taped to the frame.'

'Thanks Al,' he called after his little brother's retreating form.

Well, no time like the present. He left the kitchen and headed back up the stairs, walking down to the end of the hallway. He un-taped the key and slid it into the lock, twisting the knob and opening the door slowly. When nothing jumped out at him he opened it fully, then turned around and locked it securely behind him. He stashed the key in his left boot.

Roy was laid out, unconscious, on the bed. The security was pretty lax – there was nothing keeping him there – but Ed supposed it was a bit much to expect a blind man to escape a locked room in an unfamiliar house without running into one of the 'guards'. Still, he had underestimated the older man before. He sat down on a chair beside the bed and watched him, perhaps a little creepily.

It was odd to see him in civilian clothes, but it was even stranger to see him so vulnerable. When in uniform he was every inch the military man; proud bearing, straight back and shoulders, piercing intelligence and always several infuriating steps ahead of the game. Now he seemed younger and frailer in some indefinable way.

Ed wasn't sure how long he watched the other man before he stirred. It seemed a long time though it had passed quickly. His legs were stiff and his back ached from the uncomfortable position he had forced it into for such an extended period of time.

'Are you just going to sit there all day?' Roy asked suddenly. His eyes were still closed, dark lashes flush against his cheeks, and he hadn't moved but Ed realised he must have been awake for at least ten minutes if not longer.

'Uh, how are you feeling?' He asked awkwardly, glad the man couldn't see his face.

'Like I just got drugged and kidnapped from my own house,' Roy countered tartly.

'It was hardly kidnapping,' Ed snapped before he could stop himself. Damn it, he was going to get himself banned from seeing Roy if he wasn't careful.

'Oh I'm sorry,' Roy said witheringly, 'what is the term you military people use – forced relocation?'

It was official, he had a talent. He had spoken less than ten words to Roy and already he'd made him angry. He took comfort in the fact that some things hadn't changed. Even if Roy couldn't remember him, he still reacted the same way.

'Actually I think it's termed involuntary displacement,' he said thoughtfully.

'I appreciate the clarification,' Roy's voice was drier than the desert. 'Since you're in a giving mood, maybe you could clarify a few more things for me?'

'You can ask,' Ed shrugged. 'Can't promise I'll answer.'

'Alright, let's start with why you were stalking me.'

'Sorry.' Ed said simply.

'Then I guess you won't tell me why I'm here?' He asked, frustrated.

'No.'

'What have you done with my mother?'

Ed stiffened and fought to suppress the wild rage that reared up at the question.

'Downstairs,' he forced through clenched teeth.

'That made you angry,' Roy noted astutely. 'Why?'

Ed was fighting a losing battle. Eventually he was going to explode like an over-ripe tomato and literally pelt Roy with things he wasn't supposed to tell him.

'I can't tell you.' He bit out. Words that would express the rage he felt were dancing on his tongue and it was all he could do to supress them.

'Can't, or won't?' Roy accused.

'What's the difference?' He shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. 'Gah! You're so frustrating.'

'Imagine how I must feel.' Roy pointed out and Ed could feel the manipulation at work.

Well that answered the age-old question of whether Roy had been born with his mystical powers of manipulation, or had developed them. 'I have no idea who you are, where I am, or what you want with me.' He ticked the points off on his fingers. 'You've kidnapped my mother but you won't tell me why. You've come in here with the apparent sole intention to antagonise me and you think I'm frustrating?'

Ed tried, he really did, but it wasn't in his nature to back down from a fight. Nor was it a habit of his to censor, or filter, what came out of his mouth. As such, the battle was lost even before it had begun.

'This all your fault!' He accused, pointing a finger dramatically though his audience couldn't really appreciate it.

'My fault?' Roy asked incredulously.

'If you hadn't gone and died on us for five years and then magically reappeared,' he waved his arms around to demonstrate, 'without your memory and calling some nasty old hag your mother, then we wouldn't even be in this situation in the first place.'

Roy was gaping at him, the expression reaching right up to his eyes though they were staring over Ed's shoulder.

'That was more than a little weird.' He said carefully, obviously wary of setting off another outburst.

'Who the hell are you calling so small his emotions have to be studied under a microscope, you bastard?' Ed yelled reflexively.

'You…are an insane person,' Roy shook his head as if to try and clear the conversation from his mind. 'Please have one of your more stable conspirators replace you; I am genuinely concerned it could be catching.'

Ed spluttered for a bit, words tumbling over themselves in an effort to leap out of his mouth.

He eventually settled on, 'you called me short, bastard.'

'Of course,' Roy agreed amicably, 'in the sense that I didn't…at all.'

'You were thinking it.' Ed accused feeling the inexplicable contentment he had always felt when he was arguing with Roy.

'I'm blind, you idiot.' Roy raised an eyebrow and Ed's heart missed a beat out of shock. It was so patently Roy and he nearly forgot the man in front of him didn't recall that part of his identity. 'How on earth would I know you're short?'

'You assumed it,' Ed argued.

'No, I inferred it.' Roy countered, 'probably from the gigantic Napoleon Complex you are clearly afflicted with.'

'Hah!' Ed crowed triumphantly, 'you just admitted to thinking I'm short.'

'Or I admitted to knowing that you think you're short, and that I have no way of forming my own opinion on the matter.'

'Shut up, you bastard.' Ed scowled, 'I'm not short.'

'If that's what helps you sleep at night.' Roy shrugged and then seemed to sag against the pillows as his face drained to an unhealthy bone white.

'What's wrong?' Ed reached out a hand to shake him. 'Oy, what the hell is happening?'

Roy seemed about to say something, his lips parting slightly, but then his eyelids fluttered closed and he collapsed without a sound.

Ed hovered uselessly for a moment before a loud crash and indistinct yelling sounded from downstairs. He shot one last glance at Roy to make sure he was actually breathing, cursed, and then bolted through the door.

He was down the stairs in seconds, practically tripping over his own feet in his haste. There was nothing out of place in the kitchen or the surrounding areas, but he hadn't expected there to be. He had to search briefly for the door to the basement, where the old lady was being held, and when he found it he swore colourfully – it was locked.

'Al?' He yelled, banging on the door. 'What's going on? Are you in there?'

There was a drawn out silence, punctuated by the occasional bang before he got an answer.

'…yeah.' Al called out tiredly. 'I'll come let you in.'

He heard the light footsteps, a metal clank, and then the door swung open to reveal his brother. His hair was ruffled, his shirt torn, and there was a smear of blood on his cheek.

'What the hell?' Ed crossed his arms.

'Huang – ah, the old lady.' Al amended when Ed scowled at him, 'tried to escape just now. She managed to activate the seal on her hand without even touching it.'

'Remote Alkahestry,' Ed guessed.

'Yeah May did say it was a possibility,' Al sighed. 'She used the seal on me but she couldn't keep it up for long.' He frowned as they headed down the stairs. 'It was very odd.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well,' Al hesitated thoughtfully. 'It was as if one minute she was completely drained, still suffering the effects of whatever she was drugged with, and the next she had this burst of energy and then she collapsed.'

'Collapsed?' Ed latched onto the word.

'Yeah,' Al nodded. 'She went really pale and then just…collapsed.'

'So did Roy,' Ed mused. 'Moments before I heard the commotion downstairs.'

'You think they're connected.'

It wasn't really a question, so Ed didn't answer.

'Hey Boss,' Havoc greeted him cheerfully though his smile was a little wan. There was a fine sheen of dust in his hair, and a gash on his wrist. 'You gotta do something about this old lady,' he jerked his thumb over to where she was tied, hands spread-eagled, to a bed. 'That alchemy is some scary shit.'

'We have to disturb the array,' Ed nodded. 'Burn part of it off, or something.'

'Easy enough,' Havoc said simply, his gaze unwavering.

Al looked vaguely disturbed, his kind eyes widening in pained understanding.

'You're a doctor, Al.' Ed said gently, 'you can do it without causing much damage.'

'Only the research kind,' Al reminded him. 'I still have to complete another examination before I'm certified.'

'But you've done the practicals,' he pointed out. 'Come on Al, all you have to do is disrupt one line.'

'Okay,' Al squared his jaw resolutely. He waked over to an innocuous brown bag lying on a small table in the corner of the room and pulled out a scalpel.

'Why is he using a knife?' Havoc wondered.

'Can't risk using alchemy.' Ed explained, watching his brother approach the unconscious old lady and gingerly set the scalpel against her skin. 'It could activate the array.'

Al made a small incision along the outer line of the array and then let out a gasp of shock.

'What the..?' Ed drew closer. 'Try again.'

Not even a single drop of blood welled from the cut as Al sunk the scalpel into the old lady's skin and as soon as he lifted it, the cut healed.

'More alchemy?' Havoc guessed darkly.

'None that I've seen before,' Al's eyes were wide. 'Except…'

'Homunculi.' Ed finished. 'Try burning it off – Havoc?'

Havoc pulled out his cigarette lighter and wordlessly handed it over before stepping back to a safe distance from any wayward alchemy. Al turned the old lady's palm over and held the lighter underneath it. He took a deep breath and met his brother's gaze.

'Well here it goes.' He flicked the ignition and the flame sparked to life.

Ed watched carefully as it seared along the skin hungrily but seemed to leave no trace. The flesh around it darkened and blistered for a fraction of a second before the damage was smoothed away.

'Could she be a homunculus?' Al turned the lighter off and fiddled with it anxiously.

'Maybe,' Ed frowned. 'Search her for the Ouroboros tattoo – I need to check on Roy.'

Al gave him an understanding look which, surprisingly, Havoc echoed and waved him off.

'Take him something to eat,' he suggested.

Ed nodded and tried not to climb the stairs three at a time.

…

Roy was still unconscious when Ed entered the room so he placed the bowl of vegetable soup on the bedside table and settled himself into the chair. He watched the rise and fall of the man's chest, soothed by the rhythmic sounds of his breathing, and set his mind to the task of unravelling the latest mystery. He struggled valiantly to concentrate but his thoughts kept slipping to another time he had sat near a bed and watched the other man breathe, listening hard for the soft huff of air that meant he was still in the land of the living.

It was only a day after the civil war had ended. A mere twenty-four hours since he had helped save Amestris and had brought his brother's body back from the gate. It was all too surreal. Since then he hadn't been able to take his eye off of Al for even a second, half-convinced that if he did the gate would steal him back and this time for good. He was trapped in a vicious circle; intellectually he knew it was a fear born of sleep-deprived delirium but the thought filled him with a nervous energy that made sleep an unattainable dream. It wasn't his only worry, either.

Roy had collapsed sometime after the homunculus had been defeated and had been whisked away. Ed hadn't seen him since, nor anyone who could tell him his status, and the worry plagued him incessantly.

'Brother,' Al rasped weakly.

'Yeah, Al?' Ed smiled feebly, trying to project a strength he simply didn't feel.

'Go find Roy,' Al lifted his hand and dropped it onto Ed's. His face was drained, but the kindness in his eyes shone through.

'It's alright, Al.' Ed protested, threading his fingers with his brother's and feeling the warm human flesh against his own. 'I need to be here.'

'Go.' Al's tone brooked no argument. 'You need to know he's okay.' When Ed looked like he was going to argue the point anyway, he added, 'and so do I.'

It had been relatively easy to find Roy. He'd been on the floor above them but a helpful nurse had assisted Ed even though he wasn't family. There was a knowing in her gaze that Ed wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with, but he forgot all about it when she left having deposited him at the room. It was small, whitewashed, and barren like every other room in the hospital with one noticeable difference – Roy was inside.

He was sleeping on his back, dark eyelashes resting against his cheeks, with the sheets bunched up around his waist. The tacky green hospital pyjamas covered most of his body but the shirt had ridden up slightly to reveal the tell-tale white of bandages. Both his hands were similarly wrapped and resting against his side. There was no one else in the room so Ed settled into the uncomfortable chair right near the bed and just watched him. He wasn't sure how long he was there before his butt started aching and he leant forward, resting his arms on the bed to relieve the pressure. Eventually he dropped his head down onto the bed as well, his brow resting against Roy's arm, and let his eyes slide closed in the way they had been resisting all day. It wasn't exactly comfortable by any interpretation of the word, but it was somehow relaxing.

He dozed, not quite asleep but only half-awake, and for once his mind was blissfully silent.

'Didn't they give you your own pillow, Fullmetal?' Roy's deep voice, rich with fond amusement, was a welcome sound though it dragged him from his nap.

'Shut up…bastard,' he mumbled into the bed. 'Trying…to sleep…here.'

'Yes, on my arm.' Roy pointed out, shaking the aforementioned limb slightly to illustrate his point.

'…and?' Ed refused to move.

Tension exploded like the Big Bang to blanket the room instantly.

'Please.' Roy said quietly. He was withdrawing in every sense of the word, curling away from Ed both physically and mentally, and Ed had had enough.

'Why do you always do that?' He lifted his head, his expression fierce.

'Do what?' Roy's dark eyes were as hard as obsidian, the warning clear in their depths.

Ed ignored it with an ease born of years of practice.

'This,' he snapped. 'Pretending like there's absolutely nothing going on when we both know that there's something.'

There was calmness in Roy's expression that was completely at odds with the dark fire burning in his eyes.

'I don't know what you are talking about,' he said stiffly. 'Now if you don't mind, I'm sure you can find a small enough pillow elsewhere in the hospital - perhaps the children's ward?'

'What the HELL is your problem?' Ed snarled. 'You goddamn pretentious JERK.' He leapt out of the chair and paced the room angrily. 'Sometimes I just want to – GAH!' He made a throttling motion with his hands. '…take your smarmy, oversized, head…' he ranted and then stopped suddenly. His gaze narrowed and he spun around suspiciously. 'You manipulative bastard,' he pointed his finger dramatically. 'You're trying to distract me.' When Roy said nothing he let out an irritated noise and crossed his arms. 'Half the time I want to kill you in the most creative, and painful, ways I can think of, and the other half…' he paused and then continued quietly. 'I don't get it, but I-'

'Don't,' Roy interrupted him and his voice was almost pleading. 'Don't say something we'll both regret.'

'I won't regret it.' Ed said resolutely.

'Then you don't fully understand the consequences.' Roy's voice was soft but the first hints of suppressed emotion were bleeding into his words.

'Enlighten me.' Ed challenged.

Roy was silent for a long moment, an internal battle being waged within him.

'You're practically half my age,' he said finally.

'So?'

The older man scowled at him.

'…and you're my subordinate.'

'Your point being?' Ed raised a singular eyebrow, a feat he was enormously proud of since he'd been practicing in front of the mirror for months.

'My point,' Roy forced through gritted teeth, 'is that if we were to engage in any inappropriate relations-'

Ed scoffed at the phrasing, eliciting a low growl from the older man.

'…and it was discovered, we would both be, at best, dishonourably discharged from the military.'

'Alright,' Ed nodded, 'and that's bad because..?'

He watched Roy struggle with himself for a moment, with a dark sense of amusement, and then decided to put the poor man out of his misery.

'I lost my alchemy, Roy.' He reminded him, 'how much longer do you really think I'm going to be on the military's payroll?'

The barest hint of understanding dawned in Roy's eyes before it was snuffed out and locked away.

'I…see.'

'Come on, Roy.' Ed huffed, frustrated. 'Can you just, for once, forget about your masks and your manipulations and just be yourself?' He realised his voice was getting louder so he toned it down, the words coming out even gentler than he had intended. 'You know I'm positive the world wouldn't end.' He hesitated, wondering if it would be allowed, and then decided to throw caution to the wind. His foot was already well and truly in his mouth, might as well swallow it whole. He sat down in the chair, reached over and clasped Roy's bandaged hand between his own, and smiled tentatively. 'Even if it did, it would be worth it.'

Roy didn't look at him for a moment, his entire body tense, and the silence buzzed like rejection in Ed's ears.

When he finally did his expression was the most open Ed had seen it, his emotions written clear across his face for anyone to read.

He was lost.

'I don't understand this,' he said quietly. 'It doesn't make sense.'

'Life never does,' Ed said wryly. 'If it did we'd probably die of shock.'

Roy caught Ed's gaze, the dark depths of his eyes suffused with an emotion Ed couldn't identify.

'Ed, I-' He stopped suddenly and then withdrew his hand from Ed's grasp, his masks slipping into place and shielding his thoughts from view.

'Oh good, you're up.' A young nurse smiled brightly as she entered the room, a tray of food balanced on her arm. 'I hope you're hungry.'

'Starving,' Roy smiled back but Ed could see his eyes were cold.

Ed had never found out what Roy had been about to say. After the nurse had left, Hawkeye and the others had filtered into the room and Ed had excused himself to go back to Al. The next day, Roy had inexplicably died.

He thought he knew, but somehow that only made everything worse.

A flash of red caught his eye and he got up to examine it closer. There was a small amount of blood on the sheets near Roy's left hand and Ed was struck with a sudden realization. He slowly reached out and grasped the other man's wrist, turning it gently over so he could see the palm. There was a shallow cut overlaid with a second degree burn and he was willing to bet every single one of his limbs that it matched what Al had done to the old lady.

His jaw tightened in anger. That was it. He was going to get some damn answers if he had to rip them out of her wrinkly throat.

…

'Brother, think about what you're doing!' Al pleaded, his fingers digging into Ed's shoulder. 'If we're right, you can't hurt her without hurting Roy.'

'As much as I want to, I don't have to actually hurt her,' Ed reigned in the animalistic snarl curling at the base of his throat. 'I just have to make her think I will.' He reached out for the door handle, the key clenched tight in his fist.

'She's not stupid,' Al argued. 'She'll just use him against you.'

'Well then what the hell do you suggest I do?' Ed whirled around to glare fiercely at his brother. 'Because I sure as hell can't do nothing.'

'Wait for May.' Al stared him down unflinchingly, his tone quiet but forceful nonetheless. 'The more we know about this kind of Alkahestry, the better equipped we are to stop it.'

'I'm done waiting.' Ed snapped, and there was so much more meaning to his words then even Al knew.

'One hour.'

Ed scowled knowing he couldn't refuse his little brother anything without feeling like he'd kicked a puppy and stepped on a baby mouse in the same breath.

'Fine.' He handed over the key, 'I'll be outside.'

…

When Al came to get him he was perched on the outside wall, one knee pulled up so his arm could rest on it and the other hanging down and bumping gently against the bricks. His face was clear of obvious expression but there was a brooding darkness in his eyes.

'May's here,' Al hoisted himself up next to his brother. He waited patiently, knowing Ed was either sorting things out in his mind or obsessing over something that he would only share if he wasn't prodded.

It didn't take long.

'What if nothing's changed?' Ed asked quietly, 'what if he still sees me as a child?' He said the word with such distaste that Al had to hold back a chuckle.

'Then that would be a change,' he said bluntly. 'I don't think he ever did.'

'Bullshit,' Ed snorted. 'He took every opportunity to remind me that I was just a kid.'

'Or to remind himself,' Al countered. 'Roy's usually a hard man to read, Ed, but he's shockingly easy around you.'

'I just make him angry,' Ed grinned in spite of himself.

'You certainly make him feel something,' Al said innocently.

Ed shot his younger brother a faintly scandalised look and then sighed heavily, his doubts returning to wrap like chains around his insides.

'What if he doesn't remember, at all?' He tried to keep the insecurity from bleeding into his words, but he knew his brother would have heard it.

'Then we'll remember for him,' Al said firmly. 'Now stop moping, brother, and let's go crack that old lady.'

…

May was camped in the kitchen, surrounded by piles of old books and sketchily bound notes arranged in what Ed hoped was relevance and not simply convenience. Her long black hair was restrained in a single plait which Xiao Mei was diligently nibbling as she scribbled over a decrepit piece of paper.

'Alphonse, Ed,' she waved her pen at them, 'sit down…umm, somewhere.'

'Did you bring all this back from Xing?' Ed asked in disbelief.

'Yeah,' Al cleared books off a chair. 'I took some with me and we had the rest delivered.'

Ed examined one of the books on the table in front of him. It was ancient; the leather bound cover faded and the pages yellow with age. He flicked gently through it but the writing was all in Xingese.

'Did you find anything?' He traced his fingers over a simply array he thought was for transmuting water into steam, but there was an extra part to it he couldn't work out.

'Yes,' she paused, 'well, not exactly. I didn't find anything on the slave seal, as I said earlier all the research was destroyed, but I have managed to identify some of the sections of the array.'

'So we can work it out,' Al surmised.

'Uh huh,' she bit her lip thoughtfully and then brightened. 'That's it!' She scribbled something on the paper and then brandished it triumphantly at Al. He accepted the paper with a bright laugh, his fingers brushing along hers for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. As Al's cheeks flushed endearingly Ed tried not to feel left out. He was immensely happy for his brother and there wasn't an existing word that could accurately communicate how little he missed his alchemy in light of what he had gained in return.

'Hurry up, brother.' Al waved the paper at him, 'we need you here, on earth.'

Ed rolled his eyes and joined them at the dining table.

'Okay,' May placed the paper in the middle of them, 'now we know the circle encloses the array,' she traced the outline, 'and keeps it controlled and focused.'

'Like Alchemy,' Al nodded.

'Exactly.' She nodded, 'but here is where it gets tricky. About half a century ago one of the Emperor's Alkahestrists came up with the idea of what loosely translates to "deceptive arrays".' She traced some of the complicated lines with her finger, 'basically it means that anything they created was needlessly complex, but also mostly superfluous. The real elements of the array would be hidden amongst the distracters, and only the Emperor's Alkahestrists would know which was which.'

'Wouldn't that interfere with the array?' Al asked sceptically.

'Not if they cancelled them out, right May?' Ed guessed, his brow furrowing.

'Uh huh,' she confirmed, 'which makes it easier to work out what belongs and what doesn't. Anything that doesn't belong will have to have a cancelling element somewhere else in the array.'

Ed eyed the impossible snarl of alchemic lines, 'easy, right.'

'Well, in the sense that it can be worked out.' May amended.

One hour later they had boiled it down to the true elements and May was just finishing sketching the revised array on another piece of paper.

'That's much better,' she said approvingly.

'I've seen these before,' Al said suddenly. He reached out and dragged the paper towards him, turning it around to look at it from another angle. 'I think they're ancient Greek symbols.'

'That could be right,' May said thoughtfully. 'A lot of Alkahestry was influenced by the Ancient Greek's ideas.'

'Of course!' Al breathed excitedly, 'the Ancient Greeks were a society obsessed with obtaining immortality.'

'What does that have to do with the Slave Seal?' Ed asked.

'Nothing,' Al frowned thoughtfully. 'Though it does explain why the Emperor's Alkahestrists would have looked into them.' He studied the array closely, 'these symbols are almost certainly of Ancient Greek origin, and I think I know what they mean.'

He didn't seem inclined to elaborate, somewhat lost in his own mind, so Ed nudged him none to gently and coughed meaningfully.

'…what, oh sorry.' Al scratched the back of his neck. 'Okay, the Ancient Greek's had a…philosophy called Humorism. Basically it posited that the human body was essentially made up of four elements that should always be in balance. Any imbalance in the elements would result in a sickness depending on which element was more prominent. See this symbol here,' he pointed to something in the array, 'it represents what they called melan chole or Black Bile, which for us is the element of Earth. This one here they called chole or Yellow Bile, which is essentially Fire. This one over here is phlegma or Phlegm, which corresponds to Water, and this one is haima or Blood also known as Air. Together they are the four humors or cambiums. The presence of all of them here I'm guessing refers to a person in perfect balance, though I'm not sure what that means in this context.'

'It's used to symbolise the target,' Ed realised. 'One human being, in balance, unaffected, until the Slave Seal is cast.'

'Of course,' May nodded. 'Then I think I know what this line means.' She traced a line that twisted over the four elements. 'It has to be the dragon's pulse. It's how the user can channel their qui into another and control them.'

'Where's the equivalent exchange?' Ed mused, 'what do you give up?'

'This,' Al pointed to the middle of the array, 'is the Xingese character for "life" if I'm not mistaken.'

'Not quite,' May pointed to a tinier symbol beside it, 'this adds to the meaning so instead of "life" it becomes "life's pulse".'

'So you lose the qui you channel into the person you're controlling,' Al guessed.

'You feed it your own life force.' Ed shook his head, 'so you can control another person but it literally drains the life out of you.'

'With another power source you could keep it up for hours, maybe days.' Al pointed out, 'imagine a philosopher's stone…'

'Or a human being,' Ed realised with a cold sense of dread. 'A living person whose energy would replenish over time could be used over and over again.'

'That's why she needed Roy,' Al nodded.

'She couldn't do it with this array,' May looked troubled, 'there must be another.'

…

'What kind of Alkahestry would allow someone to use another person like that?' Al asked quietly as they descended the stairs to the basement.

'I don't know,' May bit her lip anxiously. 'Nothing I've ever heard of.'

Ed walked silently behind them, his thoughts in turmoil. Every single clue they uncovered seemed only to add to the puzzle unfolding before them. Their recent discovery posed more questions than it answered; for example, why Roy? Potentially any human being could be used as an energy source, but even if it was limited to alchemists or alkahestrists the question still remained. Roy was at the top of his field, the celebrated flame alchemist, but the trouble she had had to go through in order to get him…it didn't make sense. Of one thing he was sure, it hadn't been random. She hadn't simply picked his name out of a hat. There was a reason she had wanted Roy, and an important one if it warranted faking his death and whisking him away out from under the noses of the military.

'Hey boss,' Havoc greeted him with a solemn nod.

Ed acknowledged him in a similar fashion but paused when he took in his condition.

'Are you okay?'

The man looked stressed, the very picture of nervous energy coiled tightly and ready to be released at the slightest provocation. His hand was very firmly wrapped around his firearm and there was sweat beading at the corner of his temples.

Havoc smiled wanly at him but didn't take his eyes off of the old lady for long.

'Fine,' he said uncharacteristically short.

'…sure you are.' Ed muttered and then, louder, 'take a break. We'll be down here for a little while.'

'Thanks boss,' Havoc said and the relief in his voice was palpable. He disappeared up the stairs with a mock salute, looking infinitely more at ease.

Simple every-day alchemy gave Havoc the 'heebie jeebies', as Fuery always put it, and Ed realised that the Slave Seal probably unnerved, or even frightened, him more than he would ever admit.

Even if the old lady was sedated and strapped to a table.

'There it is,' May was bent over the old lady's chest to examine an array etched just above her heart.

'What is it?' Al asked curiously.

'I don't know,' May frowned. 'I've never seen anything like it.'

'Then we ask her.' Ed folded his arms and prepared for an argument.

'Is that a good idea, brother?' Al asked doubtfully, 'I don't see how we can make her tell us anything.'

'Not by force,' Ed agreed, 'but I have another plan. Trust me, Al?'

'Promise you won't do anything stupid.' Al raised an eyebrow, his face plainly sceptical.

'You won't believe me, but alright I promise.' Ed acquiesced. 'Now both of you go upstairs and lock the door behind you.'

'What if she uses the slave seal on you?' May twisted one of her braids around her finger.

'I don't think she'll have the energy,' Ed shrugged, 'but if she does – what will she gain? I don't have alchemy, or the key, I can't help her break out.'

'She could hurt you,' May said seriously. 'Stop you breathing, or have you strangle yourself.'

'She won't.' Ed met both their eyes unflinchingly.

Al sighed but a smile was crinkling the corner of his eyes.

'Come on May,' he shyly held out his hand for her to take, 'Brother has a particularly hard head. He'll be alright.'

Ed was on the move before they had climbed the first step. He slipped a clamp onto the IV that was keeping the old lady sedated and then moved the blanket slightly so he could examine the array etched just above her heart. It seemed completely nonsensical. The four humors were there but they were different and the dragon's pulse seemed to run chaotically over the entirety of the array.

There were no windows in the basement and the air was stuffy. He wasn't sure how long he waited, pondering the array, before she woke but it was long enough that a fine sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and clung to the hairs on his arms.

'Ah, Edward Elric.' The old lady spat his name as though it were poison on her tongue. 'Come to beg me for answers?'

'You got me,' he said drily. 'Al and I were trying to work out at what age you got hit with the ugly stick. He thinks mid-forties, but me?' He shrugged, 'I say from birth. So come on, then, who's closest?'

Her face twisted into an ugly sneer, wrinkles bunching around her dark eyes and making them appear bottomless.

'A small price to pay.' She said cryptically, 'age is nothing.'

'You're babbling nonsense, old lady.' Ed ridiculed but failed to goad anything else out of her. She seemed content just to lie there, dark gaze fixed knowingly on his face, and smile.

After a fairly long staring contest Ed tried his last gambit.

'Well,' he made a show of yawning. 'I really only came down here to gloat. We figured your array out, you know, it's easy once you get rid of the distractors.'

He watched as her eyes narrowed.

'It won't help you.' She snapped, but uncertainty lingered in their depths. Her gaze flickered down to her chest briefly before she made a play at nonchalance.

'We didn't need it anyway,' he lied. 'Oh, didn't I tell you? Roy remembers everything, apparently it was only a matter of time.' He shrugged and then turned to walk away, 'thought I'd let you know.'

An animalistic sound rolled through the room as the old lady convulsed in what he thought was laughter.

'Liar,' she snarled and then laughed again. 'Did you try to jog his memory?' She scoffed, her black eyes glinting with malice. 'It won't work, you know.'

Ed ignored her, moved up the first step.

'The gate took them,' she continued and he froze, 'and what the gate takes, it keeps.' There was another bark of laughter, this one cold enough to leave icicles in its wake.

When he turned around his smile was vicious, his eyes as hard as nuggets of gold.

'Not always.'

'Foolish boy,' she pursed her lips, her eyes darkening. 'You don't know what you're dealing with. There are forces at work here far beyond your ken.'

'I've seen the gate.' Ed said quietly, his words edged with steel. 'I've paid the price. I know what it takes.'

'You claim to know what you cannot understand,' the old lady intoned. Her voice was, for once, free of malice and echoed with an age that seemed to surpass even her long years. 'If you have paid the price once, then it cannot be paid again. The next toll is always steeper than the last. Even I have not escaped unscathed, though it is but a small price to pay for the dragon's breath.'

…

'Dragon's breath?' May demanded, 'are you sure that's what she said?'

'Yes, 'a small price to pay for the dragon's breath',' Ed repeated. He slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and watched as May's eyes went wide.

'What is it?' Al asked, worried.

'I'm not sure,' she said slowly, 'but in Xing we have a legend that mentions the dragon's breath.' She looked up, her gaze far away. 'The legend says that in the old days the great dragon spirit roamed the earth, and would breathe fire over those deemed worthy, searing away their impurities and essentially causing them to be reborn as 'perfect' – or immortal – beings. Most regard it as just that, a legend, but there are some extremists who claim it to be more of a metaphor for a dangerous kind of Alkahestry they refer to as the Dragon's Breath.'

'Dangerous how?' Al asked hesitantly and Ed could see that he, too, had come to the obvious conclusion.

'I don't know exactly, but any kind of immortality requires human sacrifice.'

'So that's what she's planning to do to Roy,' Al said quietly. His normally bright eyes were dark with anger and there was a sharp edge to his voice. 'Sacrifice him in some way.'

'She's already done it.' Ed pushed angrily away from the table, sending the chair skittering across the floor. 'I told her Roy had regained his memories to see if I could get a rise out of her,' he stalked back and forth across the room. 'She laughed and said that "the gate had taken them".'

'So she's performed some kind of human transmutation,' Al said and the colour drained from his face as he seemed to come to a realization. 'Brother, what if she used the slave seal to force Roy to perform the transmutation?'

'She did.' Ed slammed his hands against the kitchen wall, 'and his memories were the price.'

'A perfect way to avoid paying it herself,' May frowned, 'but then what did she mean by "a small price to pay for the dragon's breath"?'

'And what was the purpose of the transmutation?' Al wondered, his tone grave. 'What exactly did she do?'

'Only one way to find out,' Ed eyed the paper copy of the transmutation sitting innocuously on the table.

'You should go check on Roy,' Al suggested. 'See if he has this same array, we can handle the research for now.'

Ed met his brother's knowing eyes and nodded wordlessly. Al smiled at him for a moment and then turned his attention to the array, his gaze misting over as he retreated into his mind.

…

Roy was still unconscious which would have worried Ed if he hadn't looked markedly better. His skin had regained some of its colour and he was breathing steadily, the rise and fall of his chest rhythmic and unstrained. Ed's gaze was immediately drawn to the confirmation of life and settled there for a long moment.

Roy was so close and yet, he had never been further away.

As he stood there he felt dread seep slowly into the very marrow of his bones. He had known what it would come to the moment the old hag had mentioned the gate. It didn't matter what Al and May could figure out about the array; if the gate had taken Roy's memories, then only the gate could give them back.

There was no other way forward.

He moved closer to the bed and placed his hand over Roy's chest, fingertips lightly brushing the fabric of his shirt. His pulse quickened, his breath catching in his throat, as he undid the buttons and revealed taut muscles marred with the unmistakable signs of alchemy.

The array looked to have been burnt into his skin, but not through conventional methods. It was glowing a faint pale white and seemed almost taunting in its simplicity. None of the distracting lines were present, just the bare bones, though it seemed no more enlightening for it. The array was cool to the touch, in stark contrast to the warmth of the skin that surrounded it.

'Brother?' Ed turned to see Al standing at the door, a deep sadness in his light eyes. 'We have to go through the gate, don't we?'

'Yes.'

Al steeled his shoulders as if preparing for a fight.

'I'll do it.'

'What? No.' Ed said sharply.

'I have to, brother.' Al told him calmly. 'You lost your alchemy and I won't let May do it.'

'Then we'll find another way.' Ed stepped away from Roy and crossed his arms resolutely. 'The gate already took you once, Al, and I'll die before I let it take you again.'

'It won't.' Al matched his posture, 'and I'm sorry brother but this isn't your decision to make.'

'Like hell it isn't!'

'I'm sorry.' Al said again and his expression softened,' there's no one else.' He stepped forward and laid a comforting hand on Ed's shoulder.

'I won't let you.' Ed shook him off and stormed out of the room. A primal anger, such that he hadn't felt in years, was coursing through his veins. The strands of his hair were almost crackling with static electricity and there was murder flashing in his eyes. He had lived his life by the tenets of equivalent exchange – had paid for his mistakes with blood and tears – even knowing that the balance was skewed undeniably in the gate's favour. He had paid the price demanded of him, yet still the universe sought to chip away at him. Well this time, it had taken too much.

…

'Brother!' Al pelted down the stairs, his heart hammering in his chest. Just what was Ed going to do? He almost tripped over the bottom one, catching himself as he stumbled and pulling himself up with the side rails.

'Ed, I've figured it out.' He heard May's high voice drift from the kitchen.

'It doesn't matter.' Ed's voice was tight with anger.

Al pushed away from the rail and hurried to the kitchen but Ed was already headed for the door to the basement, a confused May at his heels.

'I don't understand,' she groused. 'I have the answer.' She stopped, hands on her hips and waited for him to turn around. Al didn't think he would. For a long time he just stood there, inches from the door and fists clenched against his sides. His head was bowed low, and every so often his shoulders shook. He turned his head slightly, his jaw clenched and eyes closed.

'Don't you see, May?' He said softly, words all the more dangerous for their volume. Al could see his brother was lost. An impossible choice stood before him, a choice he couldn't make, and every way he turned was saturated with loss. 'It doesn't matter what the array means. It doesn't matter what she did except that she performed human transmutation.' He looked away, fingers turning bone white against his palms. 'There's only one way to undo human transmutation.'

'I know,' she yelled.

'I won't let Al do it.' He growled, 'I can't.'

'I know.' She said, softer, 'but there is another way, Ed.' She moved closer and laid a hand on his shoulder, 'we can use the slave seal.'

Al drew in a shocked gasp, 'May?' He dropped his gaze; his brow furrowed, and then decided he had to say it. 'Isn't…isn't that like using a philosopher's stone?'

'No,' Ed growled predatorily, 'we'll be doing exactly what she did to Roy, only this time she'll be the one paying the price.'

'It is though,' Al insisted. 'Brother, we swore we'd never-'

'I don't care,' Ed snapped. He spun around, eyes flashing and pinned his brother with a look he'd never once had directed at him. 'I don't care, Al.'

'The price won't be her life,' May pointed out. 'Roy's wasn't – it was his memories.'

'Still…' Al looked away, troubled.

'What do you want me to do?' Ed demanded, 'let Roy suffer for what she's done? Why shouldn't she?'

'It's wrong,' he said quietly. 'There's no guarantee he'll get his memories back,' he paused and met Ed's gaze resolutely, 'in fact it's more likely he won't. This is revenge, brother.'

'It's the only way to free him,' May interjected. 'That's what I was trying to tell you before. It won't work if Al does it – it has to be a family member.'

'What?' They both turned to her, shocked into silence.

'The symbols in the array, they translate to "blood of mine, blood from mine, flow as one". The array can't be used on just anyone; it requires a blood relative to activate it.'

'Are you saying that…that hag actually is his mother?' Ed asked angrily, a vein pulsing in his cheek.

'She isn't.' Hawkeye cut in as she strode down the hallway. She stopped next to Al, her expression curious.

'She wouldn't have to be,' May shook her head, 'just blood related, no matter how distant.'

'That's sick.' Ed growled

'There's a legend,' May continued, 'that talks about an Emperor who ruled for three hundred years by binding himself to younger family members which made him immortal. Of course, he couldn't ignore equivalent exchange. He couldn't have both youth and immortality which is, I think, what the old lady meant by "a small price to pay". He aged twice as fast but he never got sick, nor suffered any physical wound.'

'What happened to him?' Al asked, 'if it's a legend, he must have died.'

'The people he bound to him never lived for very long.' May said quietly, 'eventually, he ran out of family members.'

…

'How long?' Ed demanded. When she didn't answer he slammed his fist into the wall and growled. 'May, how long?'

'Five years.' She closed her eyes. 'Five years was the longest.'

'Roy's been gone for five years,' Hawkeye said quietly. 'What exactly does that mean?'

'It means we don't know how much longer he'll last,' Al explained with a glance at May.

She nodded in confirmation. 'The old lady is draining him every second and although the body replenishes, over time…there's only so much one person can give.'

'…and that means he could run out, any day now.' Hawkeye surmised grimly.

'Or any minute.' May said hesitantly, 'we really have no way of-'

'What it means,' Ed interrupted, 'is that we have to act now.'

'Yes,' she agreed. 'I'll need time to rework the array – we have to be very specific about what price is paid or the gate will take whatever it wants.'

'Give it her alchemy,' Ed turned to walk away but Hawkeye stopped him.

'Edward, can I have a word?' She directed him down the hallway without waiting for a reply. There was silence as they walked, bar the clatter of their footsteps against the wooden floor and when they reached the bottom of the stairs she turned to face him, her expression surprisingly open.

'Edward, I owe you an apology.'

'No, you don't.' He shook his head, and offered her the barest ghost of a reassuring smile. 'I would have done the same, in your position.'

'You're wrong.' Hawkeye countered, 'you never gave up on him – it's why you couldn't let go. Somehow, you knew.' She let the words hang in the air for a few seconds and then schooled her expression into her typical neutral one. 'I may not understand what it is that you do, but I know it's dangerous. Whatever it is you're planning - what are the risks?'

'It involves human transmutation,' he said carefully, 'but none of us are at risk.'

She stiffened but nodded, 'I trust your judgement.' Smiling ruefully she added, 'though some would doubt my sanity.'

'None to your face,' Ed smirked as she mounted the stairs, and moved to return to the kitchen.

'Edward,' she hesitated. 'Will it bring back his memories?' He could hear the naked hope in her voice and though it killed him to crush it, he wasn't about to lie.

'No.' He said without turning and walked on.

…

Ed bypassed the kitchen entirely, choosing instead to head outside and hoist himself up onto the wall to watch the oblivious outside world bustle past. It was nearing sunset; the sky a faded blue and people were heading home for the evening. Children played in the streets, exuberant cries mingling with the muted sound of shoes smacking against pavement. It was a world unaffected by equivalent exchange as he had come to know it, a world untouched by the gate.

He had thought he'd seen the last of it. With his alchemy gone, he had expected never to have to contend with it again. Yet here it was, once again standing between him and something – someone – that he loved. The blue of the sky was bleeding slowly into black, the sun dipping further below the horizon, and the trees were beginning to look like shadowy figures. The children's cries died into the night, muffled sounds of movement diminishing as silence stretched to blanket the atmosphere. Only the barest hint of wind emerged in the gentle movement of the trees that cast their shadows into an endless dance across the streets. The crescent shape of the moon blinked blearily through dissipating clouds, the intermittent light giving the many shadows an eerie sense of life.

Ed gazed unseeingly into the darkness, his eyes glinting in the pale light, and a frown of confusion marring his features. The air was charged with something he couldn't identify. It was something he had felt before, but not since…

Alchemy, he realised with a start.

He was off the wall in seconds and racing inside, his heart thumping in his chest. Someone was performing alchemy, and not the usual kind.

'May?' He yelled, pelting towards the kitchen.

'Did you feel it?' She had been heading towards him, too, with Al at her heels.

'It's not you?' He stilled as his mind raced through the possibilities.

'The old lady,' Al breathed. 'She must be doing something.'

Ed's eyes widened and he nodded, there was no other explanation. 'Come on.'

The basement door was wide open when they reached it, and almost hanging off of its hinges.

'Shit.' Ed swore as he passed it and sped down the steps.

Havoc was sprawled against the wall, motionless and bleeding from the head. May rushed to check him as Ed surveyed the room. The old lady was gone.

'How could she have escaped?' Al questioned, 'she was unconscious.'

Ed's stomach lurched suddenly, his head spinning as a realisation struck him with force of colliding atoms.

'No she wasn't.' He swore, 'I forgot to unclip the IV.' His gaze fixated on the innocuous metal clip preventing the fluid containing in the IV from entering her bloodstream.

'Havoc's alive,' May announced. 'The bleeding's minimal, for a head wound.' She pressed a balled up cloth to the wound to staunch the bleeding.

'Where would she-'Al started to wonder before Ed interrupted him, the dread clear in his voice.

'Roy.'

…

When they reached the upstairs room it was to find the old lady standing over Roy's bed, sickly pale with the glow of alchemy. She had ripped his shirt off and the alchemic symbols etched into his chest were glowing with the same eerie light. Hawkeye was collapsed at the foot of the bed, bleeding profusely from a bullet wound in her chest and her gun laying a metre out of her reach. She looked unconscious, her eyes closed and a thin sheen of sweat on her brow.

Roy was awake, dark eyes riddled with confusion, but completely unresisting.

'You're too late,' the old lady cackled. 'It has begun.'

Ed growled and made as if to tackle her but Al through an arm in front of his chest.

'Brother, think. You can't just interrupt it; you don't know what's going on.'

'I know it's not for Roy's benefit.' Ed snarled.

'Ed, she's draining him.' May rushed into the room, 'she's taking everything she can, and when she's done…there won't be anything left.'

'How do we stop it?' Ed pushed Al aside, his fists clenched.

'I-I don't know,' she cried. 'I just – we have to do something before he falls unconscious. After that, he won't be able to resist it anymore.'

'Oh you can't stop it,' the old lady placed her hand on Roy's chest and dug her fingers in. 'He's mine.'

'May – use the slave seal.' Ed ordered, 'we have to break that connection. It must be what she's using to drain him.'

'It's not ready,' she hesitated, dark eyes wide. 'The parameters aren't in place; the gate could take anything…'

'As long as it's from her,' he urged. 'Do it.'

'I don't know if it will,' she bit her lip. 'Ed, the price could be anything.'

'Please.' He begged, 'May I can't lose him again.'

'Ed,' Al yelled, 'the gate could harm May.' He stood protectively in front of her, his gold eyes fierce.

Ed froze as he met his brother's gaze, and could feel betrayal spearing his heart. Words bubbled in his throat, but he fought to keep them from emerging.

I sacrificed my alchemy for you…if it weren't for you I could save him. You owe me this, brother.

'I-'He cut himself off and spun around to smash both his fists into the wall. 'You're right.' The corners of his eyes prickled with tears as he railed against the helplessness that pervaded his very core.

'I'll do it.' Al said softly and, in the time it took Ed to spin around and voice his prohibition, it had begun.

…

'What? No – Al!' Ed cursed his helplessness again as he realised he was powerless to stop his brother. There was absolutely nothing he could do, but watch.

'May,' he whispered, 'how?'

'He learnt Alkahestry in Xing,' May told him as she knelt beside Hawkeye.

The old lady convulsed suddenly and her features twisted into an ugly scowl. The glow of alchemy was still wrapped around her and Ed could see tiny blue strands stretching from her to Roy.

Al's expression was one of grim determination. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his arms were shaking.

'How long can he hold it?'

'There's no way to tell,' May answered. 'But he only needs to make her do the transmutation, after that the gate will take over.'

Roy let out a gasp as pain twisted his features, and he brought his hands up to claw at the fingernails digging into his chest.

'What…are you…doing?' He barely got the words out through the rattled hiss of his breathing. 'Ma?'

As Ed watched his frantic movements seemed to die down, his flickering gaze coming to rest on the face of the old lady.

'Keep him awake,' May urged him, 'if he falls unconscious, it's over.'

Ed moved to his bedside and hovered uncertainly.

'Talk to him, slap him. Ed just do something.'

'You better not fall asleep on me…bastard.' He tried, the words lacking their usual bite.

Roy's eyes flicked to him briefly, but there was only confusion lurking in his gaze.

The floor shook causing Ed to stumble against the bed as a giant eye opened beneath the old lady's feet.

Al fell to his knees, bracing his hands against the ground. He looked up at Ed, the start of a smile lifting the corners of his mouth and then collapsed.

As May screamed for Al and rushed to his side, Roy's eyes fluttered shut and he fell back against the headboard.

'No.' Ed whispered.

…

There was only white as far as Al could see, yet somehow the floor was distinguishable. The gate loomed behind him; he could feel its sinister presence clawing at his back. He wasn't sure why he was there, except that the transmutation must have gone wrong. He was almost afraid to look, but he turned anyway.

'Why Alphonse,' the nameless being purred from its perch. 'How nice to see you again.' It chuckled, a terrifying sound that echoed with a thousand voices. 'We have to admit, we didn't expect this.'

'Neither did I.' He answered honestly. He could feel fear coiling in his stomach but it seemed not to affect him. His mind was clouded, his thoughts locked away in a space somewhere in his mind.

'You thought you could fool us,' the creature accused mockingly. 'You thought you could avoid paying the price.' It tutted, 'you should have known better. No one fools us.'

Al knew he should feel dread at what that sentence entailed, but he couldn't find it. His emotions seemed distant. Something was bugging him, though. Tugging at his thoughts…something just wasn't right.

'Tell us Alphonse,' it uttered in a tone that grated against his nerves. 'Why shouldn't we take our price from you?'

…

'No!' Ed growled and reached out to grab Roy's arms. He shook them mercilessly, but Roy's head only flopped with the motion and he was dead weight in Ed's hands.

'This isn't happening.' Ed slapped him in the face, 'I won't let it.'

'Ed,' May's voice broke halfway through the word. 'Ed, I can't feel Al's pulse.' She sobbed, 'I think…I think he's gone.'

…

'You are the one who desired this, are you not?' The nameless being shifted against the white background, its form buzzing with restless energy. 'Well?'

'…no.' Al answered slowly, his brow furrowed. Something was clamouring for his attention but he couldn't…

'Oh?' It sounded intrigued, 'someone else desired this? Was it perhaps…your brother?'

'I-I don't…' He fumbled, the words slipping off of his tongue in confusion.

'Shall we take our price from him, then?' The voices were honey sweet, almost coaxing as if they wanted him to agree.

'Ye…' He trailed off uncertainly.

'Well?' There was something in its tone akin to desperation and suddenly, it clicked.

'No.' He said emphatically, his mind clearing. 'You'll take your price from the old lady.'

'You do not command us.' The nameless being hissed.

'You'll take it anyway,' he realised. 'You already have, haven't you? You just want me to agree so you can take more than the cost.'

The fury and indignation dissipated and the nameless being's mouth opened wide into a chilling smile.

'That's right,' it said in a sing-song like quality. 'How clever you are.'

'Then it's finished,' he said with relief. 'The seal is broken.'

'Oh yes,' it cackled, 'the price was paid. The price was paid.'

'Then we're done here.' He said firmly.

'Are we?' It tutted, 'aren't you forgetting something?'

The gate opened slowly beneath its feet and suddenly Al was staring into Roy's life.

…

'What?' Ed stared at her, disbelieving. 'No, he can't be. Try again.'

'I did.' She sobbed, 'he's gone, Ed.'

'HE'S NOT.' Ed shouted, 'DO YOU HEAR ME?' He turned back to Roy, 'WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU INFURIATING BASTARD BEFORE I SLAP YOU SO HARD YOUR ANCESTORS WILL FEEL THE PAIN FOR DECADES.'

…

'Don't you want them?' The nameless being purred, 'well perhaps you don't, but I imagine your brother does.'

'What…what do you want?' Al watched the memories but could barely discern anything amongst the chaos. It was as if every single memory Roy had was playing at the same time.

'What will you give?' It hummed in satisfaction.

'…they're just memories.' Al decided, 'the price you would ask is too steep.'

'To you, perhaps.' It smiled coyly, 'but to him?' It pointed at the chaos which swirled and shifted until Ed was clearly defined within it. He was sitting on a chair beside a hospital bed, and Al was obviously seeing the memory through Roy's eyes.

'Half the time I want to kill you in the most creative, and painful, ways I can think of, and the other half…' he paused and then continued quietly. 'I don't get it, but I-'

'Don't,' Roy interrupted him and his voice was almost pleading. 'Don't say something we'll both regret.'

'I won't regret it.' Ed said resolutely.

…

'WAKE UP YOU BASTARD.' Ed voice was running hoarse, a wedge of feeling trapped in his throat. 'DON'T DO THIS TO ME AGAIN.' He pummelled his hands on Roy's chest, just above the alchemic symbol which had stopped glowing. He couldn't bring himself to check the older man's pulse; he knew that if he found what he feared, that would the end of it. He would give up, and he just couldn't afford to. Giving up meant he'd lost Roy and Al, and that was just not an option.

'DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU SELFISH JERK? IF YOU DIE ON ME I'LL KILL YOU.' A sob caught in his throat, 'I won't lose you.' He bowed his head, tears running down his cheeks, and closed his eyes for a moment. 'I can't.'

There was a stuttering, rasping, breath and then.

'I…don't…even know…you.' Roy coughed and then grunted in pain, his hands twitching.

Ed looked up; tears caught in his lashes, and met dark, endless, eyes.

Though he hadn't expected Roy to regain his memory, the confirmation knocked the wind out of him.

'Of-of course,' he smiled weakly. 'I just – I say that to everyone.' He backed away, an emotion he didn't care to identify crushing his heart in his chest.

'Ed,' May gave him a deeply sympathetic look. 'It's alright, it worked. Al's back.'

'Fuck,' he swore in relief. He closed his eyes and breathed, 'thank god.'

'What…the hell…just happened?' Roy rasped, his breathing laboured. He looked on the verge of collapse, completely drained of energy. '…and where…where is…' He broke off into a weak coughing fit.

'The old lady,' Ed realised. 'She's gone.' He knelt next to his brother and squeezed a hand between his own. 'Al?'

'I'm…fine.' Al said slowly, his eyes flickering open. 'But the gate took her.' He seemed about to say something else but then stopped and instead asked hesitantly. 'How's Roy?'

'He's alive,' Ed told him, 'thanks to you.'

'…memories?' Al whispered, his eyes drifting closed again.

'No.' Ed answered, 'but don't worry about that, get some rest.'

'…m sorry…' Al said softly.

'No,' Ed shook his head. 'You saved him, Al. That's what matters.'

…

When Ed woke, it was to the sound of raucous conversation in the room next to his. He could make out Havoc and Fuery's voices, as well as the deep timbre of Roy's. It was three days since the old lady fiasco had come to an end, and the others had spent every waking hour regaling Roy with the memories that he had lost. Naturally, the man hadn't been inclined to believe Hawkeye when she'd explained the whole situation to him but Al had told Ed that after she'd pointed out that his mother had tried to kill him, he'd been a little more receptive. Ed imagined that would make someone second guess everything they thought was true.

Ed still hadn't seen him. He couldn't bring himself to go in there. He just knew it would feel like losing him all over again. Their history was a long and complicated one and, without it, he feared he had no place in Roy's life.

'I'm not even joking,' Havoc was saying, 'the way you and Ed used to go at it – we all thought you'd kill each other.'

'I can imagine that,' Roy admitted. 'The few times I spoke to him invariably turned into arguments.'

Ed swallowed a lump in his throat. Without their history, they were just two completely opposite people who couldn't so much as see each other without launching into an argument.

He left the room. He couldn't stop himself from glancing into Roy's room as he passed it and of course the other man happened to look up at the exact moment he did so. Their gazes met; bright gold on pitch black but nothing sparked. Ed buried his irrational disappointment and looked away as he continued down the stairs. Hawkeye had been right, false hope did more harm than good.

Roy was alive, but his Roy was gone and he wasn't coming back.

It was about time he faced the facts and moved on.

…

He found Al in the kitchen with May. For a moment, he hung back by the door, digging his hands into his pockets, and just leant against the frame, observing.

'You've never had toast!?' Al was saying, his tone incredulous. 'How did I not know this about you?'

'I don't know,' May laughed, 'we don't have toasters in Xing.'

'Then you have to try some,' Al insisted. He cut a portion of his toast and speared it with his fork. She blushed as he brought it up to her lips, a shy smile on his face.

Ed started to feel like a voyeur so he coughed lightly.

'Brother!' He was greeted by a wide smile as his brother looked up.

'Hey Al,' Ed motioned behind him. 'Can we talk?'

'Uh, sure.' Al said brightly, 'be right back, May.' He set his cutlery down and got up, pushing his chair in behind him. He walked past Ed, into the hallway, and then turned around.

'What's wrong?' He asked, perceptive as always.

Ed winced, he hadn't expected him to catch on that fast, and decided he would have to just say it.

'I'm leaving, Al.'

'What?' Al's smiled faded as understanding filled his gaze. 'Brother…are you sure?' He bit his lip.

'Yeah,' Ed ran a hand through his hair and sighed. 'I'm sorry Al, I just-I just can't do it. Maybe in a few months, but now…'

'Oh Ed,' Al looked away and, inexplicably, there wasguilt in his voice. 'I'm so sorry, brother – I tried to get his memories back and the gate…the gate said – it took too much from the old lady, it owed us.' He whispered, 'it owed us.'

'I don't understand, Al?' Ed frowned, 'you saw the gate?'

Al nodded emphatically. 'It tried to trick me, Ed. It wanted more than the fair price, but it had already taken the old lady – she was gone. It just wanted more, and I realised it and it said it would give his memories back, but it lied.' It was a flood of words that Al had obviously been dying to say. '…and I didn't want to tell you because I thought it might, and I didn't want to get your hopes up and it lied and I'm so sorry.'

'Al,' Ed pulled him into a tight hug. He closed his eyes, trapping the moisture inside, and just held his brother for a long moment. 'Al,' he whispered, 'it's not your fault. The gate has never played fair. I'm just so glad I didn't lose you, too.'

'Now I'm going to lose you,' Al said miserably into his shoulder.

'Don't say that,' Ed pulled back and glared. 'I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone.'

'Promise?'

'You know it.' Ed flashed his cocky grin.

'I love you, brother.' Al brought his hand up, 'be safe.'

Ed clasped the proffered hand, 'you, too.' He held his brother's gaze for a moment longer and then turned to leave, his heart heavy in his chest.

'Stay out of trouble.' Al said to his back.

'I can try,' Ed grinned over his shoulder, 'but you know me and trouble…'

'…old friends.' Al said softly, his lips curving into an involuntary smile. His brother would be okay; it would be a cold day in hell before Edward Elric gave in to anything.

…

EPILOGUE

It was a particularly ordinary day when Edward Elric blew back into town. The wind was mild, there were no storms on the horizon, and the earth didn't shake as he stepped foot into the city of Amestris. It was rather anticlimactic and Ed mentally berated himself for expecting anything different. This was his life now. There was a decided lack of random alchemical occurrences – excluding, of course, the events of eight months past – throwing themselves in his path, and his old pal trouble seemed to think they were on some kind of leave of absence. It was actually kind of nice, if boring, and he had kept his promise to Al. He realised he didn't even know where Al lived anymore. Without conscious direction, his feet moved to take him to the one place that would be filled with people he knew - people who would be happy to see him - and, of course, Roy. As much as he didn't want to face the fact that the older man didn't remember him, and never would, Ed just wasn't the kind of person who ran away from it. It had been long enough, and he figured he could handle acting like he didn't know the man – as if there had never been anything between them. It would have to be enough just to know he was alive and well, and to be among those whom he counted friends.

Yep, you keep telling yourself that.

It was still early morning, and the streets were mostly empty. The few citizens out and about barely spared him a glance, too wrapped in their own lives to bother wondering about his. There was a chill to the pre-dawn air that dusted red across his cheeks and had him huddling into his overcoat for whatever warmth could be gained from it. Only the faintest traces of snow lingered on the pavement, most of it had melted into a translucent slush, but he could feel that it would snow again soon. His metal leg was aching proof of that.

Not too far to the military compound now. It almost felt like coming home and he smiled a little at the unexpected whimsy. He had, after all, never expected to call the military home nor expected to find a family within its ranks.

He arrived at the compound just as the sun rose completely from behind the horizon, golden rays blinding in their intensity. He was let in with little fuss – most of them knew him by name, and those that didn't knew him by title and reputation. Not that he still had the title of State Alchemist, but it didn't seem to matter. He walked slowly down the halls, not eager to put his earlier convictions to the test, but it seemed fate, once again, had other ideas. As he rounded the corner he heard footsteps coming towards him in the methodical march of a military man. Absently he noted they had ceased but he only looked up when a familiar deep voice broke the silence.

'Edward?'

Gold met black and his heart leapt to his throat, his pulse racing, as a spark of recognition flashed in Roy's eyes. The older man's gaze warmed in a familiar way and Ed froze, hardly daring to hope.

'Ed,' he breathed again. 'I remember.'

'How?' He managed, nervous energy sprouting into chaotic butterflies in his stomach.

'It was a matter of time,' Roy smiled the half-smile that often replaced his smirk whenever he was being genuine. 'I've been trying to track you down but then,' he shrugged, 'that was never an easy task, was it?'

Ed didn't know what to say, or how to act. He hadn't allowed himself to hope that Roy's memories would come back and their last conversation before his death hadn't exactly left him clear on the other man's feelings.

'Ed-' Roy began but Ed interrupted him.

'What would you have said?' He demanded, 'at the hospital, if the nurse hadn't interrupted us – what would you have said?'

Roy's eyes widened minutely and his gaze wavered for a moment before strengthening resolutely. Ed could practically see the walls he was building around himself.

'I don't-'

'What would you have said?' Ed stepped closer, his eyes burning. His fists were clenched along with his teeth as he waited the answer out. 'You owe me an answer, Roy.' He moved forward until he was almost toe-to-toe with the older man, his growth spurt over the previous five years meaning he was almost eye-level with him. 'Please.'

Roy struggled with himself for a long moment and then exhaled.

'I would have said,' he spoke softly, 'that you infuriate me. I would have said that you drive me absolutely insane.' He paused for a moment, 'and I would have said that for some unfathomable reason I…I love you.'

'Finally,' Ed couldn't even begin to fight the shit-eating grin that threatened to spill from ear to ear. 'God, it took you forever to say that you idiot.'

Roy didn't grin back, instead he looked troubled.

'Ed,' he seemed to be backing away from his pronouncement, rebuilding the walls he had momentarily left undefended. 'I've taken up so much of your life,' he sighed, 'don't you think you should move on? Find someone else – someone young-'

'Finish that sentence,' Ed growled. 'Go on, I haven't punched anyone today and as long as you're insisting on spewing utter crap, this seems an excellent place to start.'

Roy just looked at him, a vulnerability in his expression that Ed was sure he hadn't meant to be there.

'Roy.' He embraced the older man until his stiff posture relaxed and he felt him return the hug, though gingerly. 'If you ever say that again, I will hurt you.' He drew back until he could rest his brow against Roy's, and feel the soft puffs of the other man's breathing mingle with his own. 'You hear me, bastard?'

Roy closed his eyes, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

'Always, Fullmetal.'

…

The end.

A/N: So this story didn't exactly turn out as I imagined it. It had a mind of its own, a very angsty one. Thankfully it let me write a happy ending. I would like to say, also, that OMG I actually finished a story. This is unprecedented. Particularly a multi-chaptered (although I didn't post it in chapters for fear that I wouldn't finish it) one.

Thanks for reading Drop me a line if you liked it!