Chapter 2 - What is Not Lost or Forgotten

Eleven Years, Eight Months Ago
Central City

"Kayla sweetie, this way!" The little girl formerly known as Test Subject B looked up from the butterfly she was following to find her parents waiting for her ahead on the sidewalk. "Don't you want to get home and try on your new things?" Lavinia asked patiently, gesturing with the large paper shopping bags she carried in her hands. Kayla pointed in silent objection at the slowly receding butterfly. She wanted to keep looking at it—it was purple!—but she had no way of telling them that, which frustrated her greatly. It seemed that no one except her friend from the lab, now lost to her, would ever be able to hear her thoughts.

"There will be lots of other butterflies," Vincent chuckled and held out his hand to her. "But let's go home and get some lunch. I'm hungry!" Grateful that they had at least understood her gesture, Kayla took a last longing look at the butterfly as it drifted away, then ran to catch up to her parents, taking her father's hand. As they continued along the downtown street, she caught sight of the three of them reflected in a storefront window and smiled.

"Oh look, it's Raven!" her mother observed, indicating a woman with long black hair headed in their direction at the far end of the block. Beside her walked a man with light brown hair. "She works at the hospital with me. That's her husband, Rick."

Still studying their reflection as they walked, Kayla reached up to straighten the straw hat that sat atop her bright auburn hair, making sure it concealed the feathers on her head as she'd been taught. The yellow dress she wore was also long enough to hide her feathered tail. Clothes! she marveled, as she had a hundred times in the last few months. And parents! And a bed, and going outside, and all the food she wanted! It was more than she had ever dreamed of. Her only regret was that her friend wasn't there with her. I hope you're safe too, she called out silently. She still spoke to her friend often, even knowing that she wasn't there to hear it.

"I haven't seen Raven in months," her mother was saying. "She's been on a leave of absence for some kind of family situation, I don't know what exactly. Let's go say hello."

Are you here? Kayla froze in place as this time, a reply rang out in her mind. Is it really you?!

She frantically scanned the street around her. I'm here! she called in silent response. Where are you?! She could feel her friend's presence now, she must be nearby—

"Hey Lavi, wait up," she vaguely heard her father say. "Kayla honey—what is it? What's wrong?"

There! Down the street, from behind the couple heading toward them, emerged a little girl in a long blue dress, with short brown hair partly covered by a hat. With silent shouts of joy, each girl took off running for the other. "Brooke!" the woman called in alarm after the brown-haired girl, who paid no heed. The girls ran toward each other until they collided in a hug in the middle of the block, with both sets of parents rushing to join them.

"Lavinia!" gasped the black-haired woman to Kayla's mother. "I…" She trailed off as two sets of parents took in the astonishing sight of their daughters, both conspicuously wearing long dresses and hats, who not only appeared to know each other but were apparently having a joyfully animated conversation without making a sound.

A long silence elapsed. "Hello, Raven," Lavinia finally breathed. "I think we need to talk."

-o-o-o-o-

Awhile later at a nearby playground, the four parents shared a pair of benches while their daughters played on the swingset, still apparently chattering away in what the adults perceived as eerie silence.

"…and after that, we figured our first priority was to keep her secret hidden," Lavinia was saying. "We've been telling everyone that her real parents died in the fire at the Greystone Projects—you remember that one from last year, when about twenty people died?" Raven and Rick nodded.

"We're saying that Kayla suffered burns on her head, which is why she wears the hat, and that chemicals from the burning carpet scarred her windpipe, so she can't talk," Vincent added.

"We know something about how the military works from Vincent's brother, so we figured our story had better be airtight, just in case," Lavinia continued. "So I used my position at the hospital to plant records that back us up. A birth certificate for her, death certificates for the parents, medical records for her injuries…" Raven was staring at her in astonishment, and she reddened. "I'm not saying I'm proud of any of this! But she's our little girl, and she's been through so much already. If I have to break a few laws to protect her, I will."

"I wasn't judging you!" Raven interjected hastily. "I wish I'd thought of all that, in fact. We haven't really told anyone anything. We've been keeping to ourselves since it happened, trying to figure out how to explain where Brooke came from."

Rick nodded in agreement. "In the meantime, I've been working on something to help her speak. A sort of automail collar." Now it was Lavinia and Vincent's turn to stare in surprise. "I'm an inventor," he explained, putting a hand behind his head shyly. "It doesn't bring in much money, but it really comes in handy sometimes."

"Maybe we can help each other," Vincent suggested thoughtfully. "If Lavi helps you plant some records for Brooke, can you make an automail collar for Kayla too?"

"Of course!" Rick answered. His eyes turned to the two little girls on the swingset, still silently talking and giggling. "One way or another," he observed, "it looks like we're all in this together." The other adults nodded in determined agreement.

-o-o-o-o-

The brown-haired girl pointed her toes and pumped her arms to make her swing rise higher. What do your parents call you? she asked her companion. I'm Brooke now.

I'm Kayla. The other girl copied her friend's movements and made her own swing rise to match. They nodded in approval at one another's new names.

Brooke turned to stare at the ground for a few long moments, her mood turning serious. I'm sorry I ran away, she said sadly. I shouldn't have left you.

You dummy, I told you to run away! Kayla countered with a roll of her eyes. And I'm fine—nothing bad happened to me.

I know, sighed Brooke. When she looked up, her eyes were wide and earnest. But I won't ever do that again, OK? If anything like that ever happens again, I'll be brave, and stay and protect you.

OK, Kayla nodded. And I'll try to be brave and protect you too! But let's just hope we never have to. Brooke smiled in agreement.

That settled, Kayla shot a mischievous look at her companion, then began pumping her arms and legs to make her swing rise even higher. With a grin, Brooke accepted the challenge and did likewise, until both girls were soaring high into the air and laughing.


Present Day
Central City

"This is so boring," complained Brooke, the automail collar around her neck giving her voice a metallic edge. The teenage girl lay sprawled out on her bed, on her stomach with her elbows propped up on the windowsill. Below her the late afternoon sun shone down on a quiet neighborhood street, while a pile of neglected textbooks lay strewn around her on the bed and floor. As she observed the scene, she absently ran her fingers through her short brown hair and stroked the wolf's ears on top of her head.

"Yeah," agreed Kayla in her own metallic voice. She sat cross-legged on the floor with a history textbook in her lap, her bright auburn hair hanging down nearly long enough to brush its pages. "But your mom says if we pass this last round of exams, we'll finally graduate. No more home schooling!" She held up the textbook. "So come on. Tell me about Xing."

"All right," Brooke sighed, abandoning the window and turning to stretch out on her back. "It's located on the other side of the Eastern Desert. It's been around for, um, about two thousand years, and they have a clan system ruled by an emperor. They practice a different kind of alchemy than we do, and claim that they had alchemy before anyone else, although nobody actually believes that."

"It sounds like the Xingese believe it," Kayla objected.

"I mean nobody in Amestris believes it," Brooke clarified with an impatient smirk. "Fine, smarty pants. Your turn." She hung her head and arms over the side of the bed and rooted around until she located her own history textbook, then picked it up and opened it to a random page. "Tell me about Ishval."

"OK. It's a region of Southeastern Amestris on the border of the Eastern Desert," Kayla laid aside her book and recited from memory. "They have their own ethnic group, but they fought a war of rebellion against Amestris awhile back, and nearly everybody died. That ended in 1899, the year we were born." She paused thoughtfully, then slid herself across the floor towards the bed until she was close enough to look at the textbook with her friend. "Hey," she asked, pointing to a photo of a group of Ishvalan people, "do you think I look Ishvalan?"

"What? Of course not. They all have red eyes and dark skin, and most of them have white hair."

"But look how their eyes are shaped, and their cheekbones..." She took the book and held it up next to her face so the other girl could compare the photo.

"Well, OK. Maybe," Brooke relented, squinting. "Does it matter?"

Kayla sighed. "I guess not," she conceded. "I mean, it makes me feel sadder about what happened to them in the war. But I suppose being Ishvalan is the least of my worries." She smoothed down the iridescent blue feathers on top of her head and frowned.

"What's wrong?" asked Brooke, frowning in response.

"Now that we're close to graduating, I've just been thinking," Kayla murmured. "...what are we going to do when we're older? We'll have to get jobs to support ourselves, and we're like this..." She gestured up at her feathers.

"Hmm." Brooke stared at the ceiling in thought. "Well, we could be nurses like our moms. They wear hats."

"Their uniform skirts are too short. Our tails would show."

"Fine. How about policewomen, then? They wear pants and hats. Then we could beat up criminals!" Brooke grinned wolfishly, miming a few punches into the air. Kayla shot her an exasperated look. "Anyway, why are you worried about this now?" Brooke continued more seriously. "We're only 15. We've got time."

"I know," Kayla continued frowning thoughtfully. "I just wish we didn't have to hide who we are all the time."

"Yeah," Brooke agreed somberly. "Even if we can't tell the world, it would be nice to at least have some friends." Kayla nodded.

A long silence passed between them. "All right," Kayla finally declared, her mood beginning to lift. "I suppose we won't get to be anything until we pass this test, so let's worry about that first." She closed the textbook she was holding and handed it back to Brooke with a smirk. "Your turn...tell me about ancient Xerxes."

-o-o-o-o-

"Hey there, Hawkeye!" Hughes called cheerfully a few hours later as he burst into the Central Command office where Roy and his team resided.

Riza turned from the cabinet she was facing, shifted a stack of files under one arm and saluted with the other. The room was otherwise empty of people. "Good evening, Lieutenant Colonel," she replied stiffly. Usually he got at least a polite smile out of her, but today she was all business, perhaps even a bit melancholy.

"You and Mustang working late together, huh?" he asked with a wink, trying to cheer her up.

Her bearing turned positively chilly. "The Colonel's in there," she remarked stonily, pointing to the door to the inner office where Roy kept his own desk. "Feel free to let yourself in." She turned her back on Hughes and sat down at her desk, making no further eye contact.

He sighed as he strode through the inner office door, closing it behind him and folding his arms over his chest. Roy, absorbed in reading a file, didn't bother looking up. "Hawkeye's still holding that grudge against you, huh?" Hughes asked. There was no reply. "Are you ever going to tell me what you did to make her so mad?"

"No." Roy's eyes were still fixed on his paperwork.

Hughes sighed theatrically. "Fine. Well, at least I had the sense not to let a good woman slip through my fingers," he opined, reaching into his lapel pocket. "Which reminds me, you haven't seen the latest pictures of Gracia and Elysia! We went to the park on Saturday—"

"Hughes." Roy was looking up now, but instead of his usual lighthearted impatience, this time he was serious, frowning darkly. "Not today, OK?" He looked tired and grim, his eyes bloodshot.

"Sure," Hughes shrugged, replacing the photos in his pocket. "What's going on with you, Roy?" He pulled up a chair and took a seat across from his friend.

Roy sighed, then pushed a file across the desk toward Hughes. "This. You've heard of Shou Tucker, the State Alchemist?"

"Guy made a big splash a couple of years ago, right? Something to do with animal experimentation." Puzzled, Hughes picked up the file and began to leaf through it. Then his eyes went wide and he uttered a curse. "You're kidding me, right? His own daughter?"

Roy nodded soberly. "He turned her into a human chimera by combining her with the family dog," he echoed the file's contents sadly. "She was four years old. Tucker's in military custody, but the girl—or whatever she is now—is missing. We've got people combing the city." He slid a second file over to Hughes. "There are some similarities with this case from twelve years ago."

Still shaking his head in disbelief, Hughes began to flip through the second file. "The Morishita raid, huh? As I recall, he was suspected of trying to make human chimeras, but no proof was ever found." He hadn't been involved in that investigation himself, but word about it had gotten around. His heart sank further as he read the file. The missing test subjects were believed to have been even younger than Nina, about three years old—the same age as his Elysia. No wonder Roy hadn't wanted to look at her picture. "And you never found the girls? Or even figured out who they were?"

"No on both counts." Roy's mouth was set in a grim line, his hands balled into fists. "But there's a connection between the two cases—I'm certain of it."

Hughes blinked at the files before him, not wanting to believe that such monsters existed. But something else was nagging at him. "Wait a minute," he said thoughtfully. "I remember that the Morishita files went missing from Central Records a few years after the raid. There was a break-in, it was a big deal at the time. Where did you even get this?" He waved the folder in his hand.

Roy steepled his fingers, eyes glittering over a grim half-smile. "I had my team make a copy of everything we found at the lab before turning it over. We had suspicions that the military itself might have been behind the experiments, covertly. And now that a State Alchemist is involved in this new case, I'm even more convinced."

"Black ops, huh?" Hughes murmured. "A rogue element of the military?"

"If we're lucky," Roy grimaced. "Brigadier General Grand was awfully eager to take the Tucker chimera into custody for 'study.' The only reason he didn't is because Fullmetal caused a commotion and she got free." He met his friend's eyes earnestly. "There's a distinct possibility that we're the rogue element here, Hughes. We'll need to be very careful. But I could really use your help."

"Of course." Hughes began gathering up the files without hesitation. "Mind if I take these with me to start looking over? You look like you could use a break anyway. I can tell you're exhausted." Roy frowned, reluctant to let the files out of his sight, but after a few moments he rubbed his eyes and nodded wearily.

As they walked toward the door, Hughes tucked the files under one arm and clapped Roy on the shoulder. "Try to take your mind off it for a little while, OK?" he urged, back to his trademark cheerfulness. "Find yourself a nice woman and go out on a date. Or even better—" he grinned and inclined his head in the direction of the outer office, "—there's a beautiful woman right here in the next room! Go buy her some flowers, tell you're sorry for whatever it was you did, and take her out to dinner!"

Roy shook his head. He wore a smile, but it was a sad and halfhearted one. "Trust me, Hughes," he declared as he opened the door and ushered his friend out. "She'd tell me to go to hell."

-o-o-o-o-

Hughes took some time to look through the files at his desk before leaving the office for the evening. There was a lot of information to digest, but he was already thinking of leads he could follow, new investigation paths he could take. He pushed the files away and rubbed at his forehead; he would have nightmares about this for sure, especially with his daughter being the same age as the test subjects. Idly, he wondered if Elysia was too young to learn to use a gun for self-defense. She was exceptionally bright, he considered with a smirk.

With a glance up at the clock, he gathered up the files and set off for his car. There was one stop he needed to make before he headed home for the night.

His destination was a modest bungalow in a quiet, neatly manicured neighborhood. He parked the car and made his way up the paved stone walkway, approached the front door and knocked firmly. It was answered by a teenage girl with long, bright auburn hair under a blue knit beret, wearing an automail device on a collar around her neck.

Hughes held out his wallet, hanging open to display his military ID. "Military Investigations," he barked sternly. "I'm going to need to inspect these premises. I advise everyone here to cooperate fully."

The girl sighed and rolled her eyes. "Uncle Maes, you are so weird," she replied with a grin. Even through the collar's metallic speaker, he could hear the affection in her voice.

"Hey now," he protested with a grin of his own, pocketing his ID as she leaned in to give him a hug. "That's not what a man wants to hear from his favorite niece!" He returned her gesture with a bearhug squeeze.

"I'm your only niece, silly," Kayla countered with a laugh. "But even if you're my only uncle, you're definitely my favorite too." She invited him into the bungalow's living room with a wave.

The clink of pots and pans floated through the air from the kitchen. "Hi, Maes!" Lavinia's voice called unseen from around the corner. "Dinner's almost ready, but Gracia and Elysia are running a little late. Make yourself comfortable."

"Something to do with a potty-training accident," chimed in Brooke, appearing from the kitchen where she had been helping Lavinia. "We didn't ask for details."

Hughes sighed contently as he took a seat on the living room couch. "My darling Elysia is growing up so fast! You'll hardly recognize her. Here, let me show you the latest pictures!" He pulled a stack of photos from his lapel pocket, the ones Roy couldn't bring himself to look at earlier today. He began to flip through the pictures, enthusiastically narrating his account of their Saturday at the park as the girls looked on.

Though Hughes wore his usual cheerful grin, as he talked, a part of his mind kept returning to the thought of the little girls in the files, all three of whom were still out there somewhere. Turned into chimeras! The girls in the Morishita case would be just about Kayla and Brooke's age now, he mused, wherever and whatever they were now. He stole a glance at his niece and her friend, who were studying the pictures with a polite show of interest. Thank goodness nothing like that had ever happened to them, he thought with an inward shudder.