An update! Please let me know if you find this interesting. It's an odd piece and hard to tell if holds anyone's interest but mine...

Chapter Two

The strengthening storm had been dumping buckets for three hours now. A week of light showers had thoroughly dampened the earth, and the volume of rain falling this morning was turning low areas of soil into thick soup.

The Colonel's inner circle of loyals were all there, standing by, waiting in their rain gear. Mustang and Havoc took turns pacing along with Ed as he watched the rain with increasing fervor, first touching, then tapping, then pawing at the windows. He ignored the men following him as he made mumbling noises and swept from glass panel to glass panel.

Another hour of continuous downpour went by, then another half. The slight blond stopped mid-stride and pitched forward, slamming to a halt with mismatched fists against the window. The heat radiating from his sweating forehead caused a halo of haze to ghost out irregularly where his head impacted with the glass. At that moment Ed's world claimed him completely and he pushed away to bolt for the door at the end of the hallway. His whole body slammed into the panic bar from a dead run, expecting it to be locked but unable to resist such an obvious portal of escape.

It wasn't locked. The door flew wide and a startled Ed found that he had flung himself out through it, smacking down hard on the wet cobbled walk. Mustang's men followed, with the Colonel and Havoc staying closest. They lagged slightly, making sure he didn't get too far ahead, but not trying to stop him. The blond was back up on his feet and off like a shot, running unsteadily away into the blinding deluge.

This time was different. This time they would allow him to go and watch, to see if they could figure out what it was that he was so driven to do out here in the rain.

Ed ran, slipping and making ragged desperate cries as his weakened body quickly ran out of breath.

"This is the same way he always goes," Havoc raised his voice to be heard over the noise of the downpour. It was achingly easy to keep up with the struggling young man.

Ed reached a clearing and slowed, his eyes darting around, looking up at the darkened, blurred horizon. He had to squint to clear the rain from his eyes, checking the near distance to find the tallest tree, the largest rocks.

Mustang thought it looked like he was locating something by landmarks. Not a very crazy thing to do, in his estimation.

Ed's feet found direction again and he stumbled forward. His eyes focused on the ground and scanned back and forth, sweeping his head from side to side with dizzying frequency. His flesh hand was at his forehead, holding his bangs back out of his line of vision. Mustang thought he looked like he might be crying now, but it was too hard to see. As the distance closed between them, he still couldn't be sure of the tears, but the expression was riddled with anguish.

Forward motion had stopped again. Ed was circling, nervously hesitating. Mustang tensed and swept his own sodden bangs out of his eyes, ready to move if Ed took off again.

The frantic searching ended as he found his spot and all pretense of civilization dissolved. He flung himself face down into the sucking, saturated yellow clay, his crying still eclipsed by the tears of the clouds.

Then he scrambled back to his knees, to free his hands for the task. He paused with his arms poised while the rain battered his face.

"Something's different. Maybe it's because we're here," Havoc's voice came to Roy's ear from behind as his comrade moved up to watch along with him. That didn't ring true in Mustang's gut; if anything, it seemed like Ed was unaware that he had any company at all.

For a minute, it looked like Ed's energy was spent. The question arose in the Colonel's mind as to just how long they should leave him like this, crying and getting chilled while kneeling in the mud. His shirt was soaked and clung pathetically to his thin frame, lightly outlining the damage to his body. It had been a long shot, thinking that they'd get some clue from letting him loose. So far they'd only succeeded in increasing his upset and subjecting him to harsh conditions and over-exertion.

Suddenly, Ed snapped back to awareness and began digging frantically with his hands. Mustang approached cautiously and squatted close by. When it didn't seem to have any effect on Ed's actions, he risked venturing a question. "What are you doing, Ed? What is it?"

"I'm here, I'm here. It's safe! I promised, I promised, I'm here!" Ed's face and voice were directed down. Mustang doubted it was any sort of response to his question or his proximity.

He's talking to the dead, perhaps, the Colonel mused. He concentrated on listening closely, hoping for more clues.

"Please, say something! It's safe now." Digging faster, harder, the wet mud kept souping back in to replace his excavations. He tried thrusting an arm down, met too much resistance, and began clawing away gobs of mud again. His effort was tremendous for someone in such poor condition. It was a grossly inefficient way to dig, but the amount of effort he put into it began to make headway. His hands were creating a deepening depression in the muck.

He talked incessantly as he dug and dug some more. Then, with a clunk, the automail arm connected with something hard on its next experimental thrust downward.

He's so far down now he's hitting rock, Mustang thought. "What are you trying to do?"

"I've got you! Say something!"

"Ed, what…"

"AL! Al Al Al Al Al…" His automail hand found it again, clanging against it. He was leaning down into the depression in the slop, straight-armed; that would put the object about three feet underground. The sound of metal against metal pierced the noisy backdrop of the rain and reverberated in the chests of the startled men, all still riveted to his actions.

Mustang's eyes flashed down in shock. Surely that was a rock or something, poor Edward was just delusional. Al couldn't have been buried right here in their "back yard" all along…could he?

Pawing wildly and repeating his brother's name in a wailing cadence, Ed kept digging like a dog, and then - clang! Again. It was far too close to what that metal suit might sound like encased in wet earth.

Mustang motioned to Havoc. "Go! Get shovels. Something's down there. God forbid - I think it might be Al's remains."

Havoc spun even as the impact of the words landed in his throat. He grabbed Fuery and they ran full-out in spite of the slippery path, making short time of the distance to the maintenance shed. Fuery, the man with a hundred keys, whipped out the correct one on the very first try and snapped open the padlock. They dove for the shovels and dashed back in rising alarm.

Ed was starting to do himself some damage, the knuckles on his flesh hand were bleeding and he'd bitten his lip, the rain making a pink wash of the blood down his chin. Mustang called to him to stand aside and when he didn't react, the larger man reached down and pulled him back out of the way, allowing the shovels to begin to fly. The shovels barely paused in time when the agitated blond ripped free and dove down in their way, digging by hand again desperately. Ed was restrained again by Mustang's powerful arms, and the shovels' struggle against the backsliding muck began to gain ground.

It was a sobering sight that came into view first. It was the metal helmet, covered in thick, dark bearing grease. Attached to metal shoulders still encased by the earth.

Ed screamed and wrenched free with impossible strength, diving in head first and digging harder around the massive metal shoulders.

"It's safe, you have to forgive me now, it's safe. We can fix it. I'll fix it. You have to believe me!"

Their hearts swelled with stark pity for their former comrade's tragic loss. It was a blow to finally see the hard proof, the physical evidence of the death of Ed's innocent younger brother. It gripped them all, welling large, painful lumps in their throats. And then the witnessing eyes froze.

An angry, insane roar issued from the metal head and an arm ripped itself free from the muck to clamp fiercely on the begging blond's neck. The eyes glowed fiery red in rage.

"I'll kill you!" roared the youthful voice, oddly echoed in the trapped metal.

"No, no, they were waiting, Al, they were waiting. When we returned they just would have had another body to destroy. It was the only way. Please, please, you have to forgive me!"

"FORGIVE? I'll kill you! How could you? I'll bury you alive! Die!" shrieked Al, working another arm out and puncturing Ed's shoulder with a driving muck-covered metal thumb. "Slowly! You need to suffer! In the dirt, in the dark, you cruel bastard!"

"Don't kill me yet, Al." Ed cried at the pain, eyes now clear and lucid. "First the Gate. Then you can kill me."

"Oh, yes, you will get this finished first. Your blood will be the first thing I feel with my flesh." Al reared back, still half-entombed in the ground. He twisted his huge body with tremendous force, bringing his metal chest up and reaching into the cavity with one hand, the other still gripping Ed like a rag doll.

"Let him go, Al, we'll get you out!" shouted Mustang, shaking loose from the shock to attempt to pull Ed free from his raging brother. "Get his arms!" he yelled to Havoc.

But Al ignored them and finished reaching into his chest for whatever it was that was inside. It glowed with a blinding red light, and in a heartbeat the two Elrics were gone.

Mustang fell forward and slid down, his hands slapping into the hole and sinking. When he lifted them they were holding only mud, the rain dissolving it from his hands as he stared at them in disbelief.

The mud slipped back down into the depression , and shovels fell from stunned hands. Havoc helped the Colonel up, and they drew on their professional strength as soldiers to stay calm.

"What the hell…" Havoc regained his footing, nearly stumbling into the sinkhole himself.

"You heard them," Mustang said grimly. "The Gate. And I think they had a stone."

xxxxxxxx

They stood there soaked and nervous, waiting for what seemed like forever. No one made a move to leave. The weather beat at the soldiers with disdain, as if to dismiss them and drive them away, but the decision to remain was unspoken and unanimous. Tucked behind their leader, watching his squared shoulders as he presided over the sodden ground, the shock was slowly beginning to wear off.

A chill wind swirled up momentarily, eliciting involuntary shivers. It was all the warning they had before the rain burst outward explosively from the point where the Elrics had disappeared, and two bodies tumbled away from a flash of ground-swell lightning. They fell limp and motionless, one across the legs of the other.

Edward lay face-up, unchanged but for the side of his face, the jawline darkening and swelling as if from a vicious blow. Ed's limbs were not restored. His automail was still there. He was beneath the form of a nude, emaciated male in his mid-teens. The youth's bones were sharply evident under the sallow, thin skin dotted with small open wounds and festering sores.

They were both unconscious, brown and amber eyes open yet vacant.

The men moved quickly, carefully wrapping what they presumed was Alphonse in a raincoat and carrying both of the young men back to the compound.

Hawkeye had been forced to wait inside the headquarters office, to field any inquiries that might come in while they were off on their technically unofficial business. It had been agonizing. When they came bursting in through the entry with their grim cargo her heart stopped.

"Who..?" The stunned look on the men's faces stopped the questions before she asked them. But when she saw Ed's face, she moved quickly to check on him.

"This is serious. I think his jaw may be broken. He needs to go to the infirmary right away. Colonel, what happened? Did he take a bad fall?" She gingerly tested the purpled jaw line with her fingertips. Her eyes darted to a large, bloody hole in his shirt.

"That 's one way to put it," Mustang said darkly, turning away. "How about it, Havoc?"

"Not good. I can barely get a pulse." Havoc had the younger Elric's thin grey-tinged arm gripped by the wrist. "Al! Alphonse!" He lightly slapped the doughy face. There was no reaction.

At least, not from the boy. Hawkeye gasped. "That's Alphonse? But how do you know?"

"No time for that now, Lieutenant. Have the car brought around so we can get them to the hospital."

She moved so quickly to go for the phone that her foot slipped. Mustang caught her neatly in mid-air and set her back in balance.

"Slow down. It will be all right."

He wasn't so sure he believed that, though. But he knew she'd hurry anyway.

The brotherly exchange he'd witnessed couldn't have done much good as far as Ed's mental status was concerned. He couldn't begin to conceive of the nightmare he'd likely experienced in the trip the Gate. And Alphonse didn't sound anything like himself at all either, as if being buried had driven him over the edge as well.

The car arrived and he directed the men to load the boys up, taking the passenger seat so that Ed could be placed carefully into his arms. Havoc held Alphonse's fragile body when they passed him into the back seat, and Hawkeye drove them with all possible speed on the short hop from headquarters to infirmary.

xxxxxxx

Dripping wet, Mustang suppressed a sneeze and Havoc snickered as small puddles formed around their feet in the hallway outside the examining rooms.

"You look like a drowned puppy. Sir." He added the formal title in response to the glare.

"You're just as wet as I am."

"With all due respect, it's not the same look on me as it is on you."

"Stop flattering me, Havoc, I don't date my subordinates." Mustang growled.

"Just trying to lighten the mood." He shrugged. He also didn't believe the part about not dating subordinates, because he'd seen it plenty of times. But this was hardly the time or place to argue that point.

"What's keeping them so long? I've a mind to just go in and see for myself." Mustang began to pace.

An orderly walked by, noting the wet floor, and moved to hand them towels. The Colonel ignored him and Havoc took the offered linens.

"Hey, we're making a water hazard here. Someone might slip. You want to take off that wet jacket?"

"Why? The shirt's just as wet underneath." He took the towel anyway. "Don't mother hen me, dammit."

Havoc was just about to argue when the door crept open.

It was the doctor leaving Ed's room.

"Well?" Mustang moved to block his way.

"Fractured jaw, just as you guessed. It's severe, we had to wire his jaw shut so it can heal. He's in mild shock; I supposed that might be expected with such a terrible blow to the face and being exposed to the elements. And I must say, I've never seen anything quite like that large puncture wound on his upper chest." The doctor's gloved hand scraped in annoyance at a patch of blood decorating his otherwise pristine white coat. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to see to the other fellow. I understand from the intake nurse that his vital signs are weak but steady and that his main complaints seem to be from general neglect of the basic human needs for food, water and hygiene. Did he say anything to you about the conditions he was living in? Has he been a prisoner, or trapped in the wilds?"

"He…was lost for quite some time. He was unconscious when we found him."

"Seriously? So he split the flesh on his knuckles pounding this other young man's jaw to pieces - and it was what, a lucky punch in his sleep? Quite a feat. Look, if you don't want to tell me the situation here, then don't. But making up things is not going to help me with treating these young men." The doctor stepped around him and disappeared into the next room in a huff.

"He - he did that to Edward?" stammered Havoc.

"I was afraid of that," Mustang frowned. He pushed the door open and crept quietly inside. Ed was still and his breathing was steady, although noisy and wet with congestion. "I suppose it will drive him away again. Something like that, no way in hell could he deal with that in his condition. It wouldn't be something he could cope with easily, even if he had all his wits about him."

Havoc came around the other side of the bed. "I guess even Edward has limits."

"Yeah. I suppose he does." The Colonel leaned down and brushed a stray hair off the clammy, pale forehead. "We'll still be here for you, Ed. Whatever the case, you won't be alone."

"Maybe he hears you."

"Could be. If not - I'll just have to repeat it when he can." Mustang snagged a chair with his foot and drug it over to the bedside, perching on it with the squish of wet wool trousers. "Let Hawkeye know that I'll be here for a while, hm?"

"But…"

"Now, Havoc. Get going. After you let her know, get changed and bring me back some dry duds."

"Yes, sir." Havoc reluctantly left to follow his orders, stealing a look into Al's room as he went by. He'd hoped for some sign of life but there wasn't any more activity on this bed than the one he'd just left.

His boots squeaked on the dry flooring as he made his way back down the bright hallways, through the empty waiting room and out into the dark rumble of the continuing storm.

tbc