That night Edward lay sleepless in his cot below deck. He was tired and tried to fall asleep, but it wouldn't come to him. The thought of being near this weird country gave him the creeps. What kind of government nearly blows up incoming boats on purpose? It wasn't like him to ponder about something like this, but he couldn't help but wonder what this place was like. It kept him up all night. Though he was tired, he decided to get dressed and walk to the deck.

"Where are you going?" asked Mustang groggily as he passed his cot. He wasn't wearing anything but boxers and an undershirt.

"Just upstairs onto the deck. I can't sleep right now."

"Neither can I, actually. I keep thinking about what happened in Amestris. It was just so awful. All those people died…"

"I can't stop thinking about this 'America' place. I'm just trying to put Amestris behind me. And as for my friends… I just hope they're going to be ok."

"I don't know. I just know that I'm never going back. We told our friends and family where we were going. They'll come in a year or two if they lived."

Ed was beginning to get uneasy with the conversation. "Uh, like I said, I'm going to go up to the deck. You want to join me?"

"No thanks, I'll just lay here and try to fall asleep. If I look at any more water I think I'll retch again. You go, I think Al walked up a few hours ago."

Edward walked on towards his goal. He slowly climbed the stairs, worn out from a night of sleeplessness. The cool ocean air was a bit awakening. It was so foggy that he couldn't see anything. Too tired to realize what he was doing, he began to walk to the back of the carrier. The end in which he was sleeping was the front, and with his slow pace and the great length of the boat, he could be walking for a while.

While he walked, he thought about something. How would they get their bodies back? He and Al lost all of their research on the Philosophers Stone and anything else they could use when the disaster began. They might not even know what alchemy is in this country, much less know how to use it to help them. A wave of sadness swept over Ed. They may not actually ever get back to their original forms. Ed could handle the automail limbs. But Al was trapped in that suit of armor, and Ed could tell it was pure hell. He couldn't physically feel anything, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't even eat. Al was technically 14, but he hadn't seemed to have matured or aged much since he had been bound to the armor. (Thankfully Al was pretty mature for his age) He really wasn't even human.

And then there was the other thing Ed was researching behind Al's back…

"Brother, is that you?"

Edward looked up and to the left. He walked over a bit to see Al sitting on the edge of the boat, holding a fishing rod.

"Yeah. What are you doing out here?"

"Just doing some fishing."

"You're fishing now? Why?"

"Well, there's not much else to do. Besides, the captain said night is the best time to fish."

"Whatever makes you happy." Ed sat down next to Al. "So what's been going on? Did you catch anything?"

"No, not yet. But it sure beats sitting below deck doing nothing."

"I don't really see how. You're just sitting up here doing nothing."

"I guess I just find more excitement in what might happen than you do."

"I guess so."

Edward and Al just sat there, looking at the ocean. Neither of them said anything. Al held the pole, and Ed just looked boredly at the fog. After about an hour, the line on Al's pole began to wiggle. Even though his head was nothing but a solid iron helmet, Edward could still see the excitement on Al's face. He thought it was a bit stupid, but Al was still just a kid, so Ed could sympathize with the feeling of accomplishing anything at that age.

"I caught something!" Al exclaimed.

"Well, if it's another mine, just throw it back."

Al ignored him and kept on reeling. Whatever was dangling on the end of the rod came over the side and flopped on the deck.

"Look, Ed!" Al said, holding it up.

"I see it, and it looks like it would make some pretty good fish sticks," said Edward, realizing he hadn't eaten since yesterday.

Al just looked at him with what he guessed was disgust. "We're not going to eat it! We're throwing it back!" He put his armored fingers into the fish's mouth, yanked out the hook and threw it over the edge. "There you go, little guy…"

Ed just looked at the water below, a bit disappointed. He finally looked back up and said, "You know, Al, you're really a bigger person than I am."

"What do you mean? I'm no bigger than you are. Well, physically maybe, but…"

"Don't ruin this moment Al," he said through gritted teeth. "But you are a bigger person, metaphorically, I mean. You're always just so positive and happy, always looking out for everything else. How?"

"I don't know. I'm just never really negative. It would just be stupid to go around grieving about everything."

"Well, I just don't see how you stay so happy. If I was in your condition, I would have killed myself or everyone else by now."

Al looked out at the ocean and sighed. "It's true, for the most part this form is… it's just awful. But I can't just mope around about it, though. I have to focus on the good things about the way I am."

"I guess that's the good thing about you, Al, you were always happy, always smiling. But I have to ask, what could possibly be good about your form?"

"Well for one thing, I don't die unless the seal in my armor is ruined." He flexed his left arm. "I'm also pretty strong. And I'm," Al giggled, "I'm a lot taller than you."

Ed cringed. He hated people making fun of him, but he hated people making fun of his height more than anything.

"Then again, I guess everyone is taller than you," Al laughed.

"You little runt!" Ed yelled, launching himself at Al.

"Little? But I'm bigger than you!" he laughed again.

"STOP THAT!"

Ed and Al wrestled on the deck for the next few minutes. They both constantly used to do this, but they haven't in such a long time. They both fought, laughing the whole time, until Al finally pinned his brother under his foot.

"Had enough?"

"Yeah… you win, I guess."

Al removed his foot and let Edward sit up, and then sit down next to him.

"I remember when we used to do that," Ed gasped, "but I was always the one that got you under foot."

"Yeah, those were the days, huh?"

They both resumed looking blatantly at the ocean. They sat quietly for what must have been for hours, just being happy to know that the other one was there. Finally, Al shifted and asked, "Can I tell you something, brother?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Well," he paused, "I'm really afraid of this place that we're going to."

"Why? I mean, I'm uneasy about it… but not really afraid."

"Because, we know nothing about it. I mean, what if it's dangerous and filled with criminals, or ruled by some tyrant? That whole incident with the mine was enough scare me away from the place. Do we actually want to go to some place that blows people up to warn them?"

"Well, where else can we go? I mean, we don't know what will happen to the countries around Amestris, so we should get as far away as possible. And this is pretty damn far away."

"Well why not Russia? Why not Japan? Why not Africa? Why not somewhere we know about? All I've ever heard about this 'America' has always been awful."

"Look. I promise you, Al, we'll be fin-"

"Thank god, there you kids are!"

The brothers turned and saw the captain rushing through the fog with Mustang. Mustang was now wearing his military coat and alchemical gloves.

He was also holding a machine gun.

"Captain?" yelled Al, standing up. "What's going on? Why does Mustang have that gun?"

"Cuz we gots us a situation!" He yelled. Ed noticed he also had a few guns on him. "We got tangos off the port bow!"

Ed and Al looked at each other confused. "Captain?" Ed inquired after a second. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"He means there's a fucking boat off the front of the ship!" Mustang yelled. "It hailed us on the two-way, and it's from America. It wants to board us!"

"And, this is bad… why?"

"It's got guns all over it!" the captain answered. "Standard Browning .50 cal machine guns, too. Them suckers are nasty! They'll have trained soldiers… maybe even some of them damned navy power armor troops!"

"Power armor troops?" Al asked, sounding scared.

"Like normal troops, but with 2 inch thick ceramic-steel plated automail armor all over 'em! If they mean business AND have some of them, then we're screwed right up our sorry asses!"

"WHAT CAN WE DO?" Al screamed.

"For one, you can quiet down." Mustang replied. "And you can take one of these." He snatched a rifle out of the captain's arms and offered it to Al.

Al just looked at it. He had seen plenty of people killed by these things. Now he was supposed to take one. He had no idea what to do.

"I… I can't take that. I'll never kill anyone."

"You might have to, Al. If not now, maybe in the future." Al still didn't budge. "Look, I know how hard it is to kill someone. Believe me, I've done so on many occasions. But if they shoot and you don't, they could kill us. They could kill you."

Al's hands started to shake. He slowly raised them and touched the piece of wood and steel. He couldn't physically feel it, but the sense of power coming from it was almost tangible. He finally lifted it out of the Colonel's hands. He struggled to get his large armored finger under the trigger guard.

"What the hell?" yelled Ed. "A few hours ago you threw a fish back because you wanted to save the damn thing! Now you're willing to kill another person?"

"Don't throw a bitch-fit, boy," said the captain as he pulled a large pistol out of his belt, "you can have one, too."

"No way. I can't believe Al took one, but I sure as hell won't, not unless my life counts on it."

"Well, you're life does now, kid." He chambered a round and jammed it at Ed. He put his hands at his chest and felt the weapon. He reluctantly took it.

The captain looked the both of them over. Ed's hands were shaking, making the metal in the weapon rattle. Al was just looking at his gun, staring blatantly at the thing he was so reluctant to take. The captain frowned and quietly said "We're fucked."

"Huh?" said Al.

"Oh, nothing."

Suddenly a light shone over the deck about 10 meters away.

"Looks like they're here," said Mustang. "Everyone, find something to hide behind. This could get bad."

"Lets get this shit done!" the captain yelled as he unslung and pumped the shotgun around his shoulder.

"Uh, captain, the point of hiding is to not let them know where we are. You kind of defeated that."

"You certainly did."

All of them swung around and instantly leveled their weapons. A man in a black suit was standing in the middle of the deck.

"How did you get on here?" Mustang yelled.

"We pulled our ship up next to yours and stepped onto the deck. That's a how a boarding procedure works. Now, put down your weapons and everything will be fine."

"Who are you?" asked Al.

"Oh, right. Where are my manners? I am Mr. Burke, head of the Secret Service of the United States of America."

"Why is someone in your position out here to board a boat?"

"I was out here for another reason. I was just at the right place at the right time. Now can we cut this short? Just drop your weapons and come with us."

"Or what?" yelled Edward. "There's four of us and one of you! We could kill you right now if we wanted to!"

"That's a very stupid plan, kid," said a booming voice from behind. A cold piece of steel was forced into the back of Ed's skull, and there was a lot of clicking. Ed smelled tobacco. He slowly looked back and saw a tall black man in a large metal suit, smoking a cigar, wearing a hat of some sort. He was accompanied by two more people in the same suits, but with metal helmets, holding assault rifles.

He was also pointing a revolver straight at Ed's face.

"That's Commander Avery of the 762nd Powered Assault Battalion. You'd be wise to follow his orders."

"NOW DROP YOUR FUCKING GUNS!" Avery yelled.

"Make me!" screamed Al, swinging the rifle and pointing it at the armored man's face.

"I wouldn't do that," Burke said, pulling a pistol out of his jacket and aiming it at Al.

"Shut the hell up!" the captain yelled, grabbing the pistol from Ed and pointing it at him. He took the shotgun one handed and pointed it at one of the armored soldiers behind the Avery. Mustang leveled the machine gun at the other one.

No one moved. With the exception of Edward, everyone had a gun pointed at someone, and no one was about to do anything but keep them pointed in the same direction. Everyone could smell the tobacco burning from Avery's cigar. The bitter-sweet aroma hung in the air like the fog around them.

Then all hell broke loose.

It wasn't clear who shot first. Bullets flew in all directions. Miraculously, it seemed that no one was hit. Al flipped his gun around and smashed the butt into Avery's jaw. He staggered back and Al, Ed, Mustang, and the captain ran and hid behind a nearby shipping container. Mustang peaked his gun around the corner without aiming and let loose a spray of bullets. All the while, the soldiers and Burke returned fire, finding their own objects to hide behind. Edward, left without a gun, clapped his hands together and then to the deck. He swung his arm in the direction of one of the armored soldiers, and a hail of spikes formed from the deck and flew at him. One hit him in the leg, one in the chest, and another in the shoulder. His armor seized up and he fell to the deck. Al rounded the opposite corner and fired rounds wildly. One hit the other soldier in the shoulder, spinning him around. Another bullet, either from Al or the captain, hit a metallic pack on his back. His armor failed as well, and he fell to the ground, immobile.

"We have to get out of here!" Al yelled, jamming a clip into the gun's receiver and pulling the hammer.

"Great idea, genius!" Ed yelled sarcastically.

"Don't yell at me, I'm already under enough pressure!"

"Well where the fuck are we supposed to go?"

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE HELL UP?" Mustang roared.

"We have to get to their ship!" yelled the captain.

"WHAT?" roared Ed. "You want to go where the soldiers are WAITING for us?"

"If there were more troops on board, they'd already be here! That boat is the only hope we have of getting out of here alive!"

"What about the carrier?"

"This piece of shit? I don't care about it, I just jacked it from the port back in Amestris! They can blow the damn thing sky high for all I care!"

"But-"

"ED, SHUT UP!" Mustang yelled. "Let's just get to the ship!"

They eyed the next crate a few meters away.

"We go one at a time!" Mustang yelled. He gestured at Al, then the crate. "Go!"

Al clumsily rushed from one crate to the next, squeezing off a few shots at their assailants. He slid the last few feet into cover.

"Alright, Ed, you next!" He waited a second, and then repeated the gesture with a "Go!"

Ed ran the few meters between the container and the crate. During the last few feet, however, a stray bullet rammed straight into his lower hip. It pierced through flesh and bone, flying out the other side of his right leg and hitting his left automail leg. Edward fell to the ground with a cry of pain.

"BROTHER!" Al cried. He reached out and grabbed his brothers shaking arms and pulled him behind the crate.

"Brother, are you ok?" Al yelled.

"He-he-he sho-shot m-me," Edward stuttered. "Th-the mo-mother fucker sh-shot me in the ass!"

"No, no, no, NO! Please, don't die!" His voice cracked mid-sentence.

"I'll b-be fi-fine. Ju-just get t-to the sh-ship."

"Holy shit, kid, I saw that!" said the captain. Al hadn't noticed, but him and Mustang had crossed over from the shipping container. He pumped the shotgun and fired a shot around the corner. "Got one right in the ass! That must've felt pretty!"

Al reached up and punched the captain in the face. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? HE COULD DIE!"

"He won't die, asshole," said the captain as he rubbed his face. "He was shot in his ass. The only thing really hurting him is the shock of being shot. He'll be fine by tomorrow, provided any of us live that long, that is."

"Give him a break," Mustang said. He turned around the corner, fired a few rounds, and came back. "Ed is his only family. I would have been mortified if that was me."

"Fine. I'm sorry. You want a kiss? Just pick him up and let's get out of here!"

Al gave the captain a glare that could cut through steel and picked up Edward, slinging him over his shoulder. He picked up his rifle and turned towards the next bit of cover.

"You go first," he said. The captain stepped forward, but Al stopped him. "Not you!"

Mustang ran to the next shipping container over. The captain started before Mustang was behind it.

"Al, come on!" Mustang yelled.

Suddenly a green metal ball clanked onto the deck in front of Al. His eyes (Or the red energy orbs that existed in place of eyes) widened as he realized what it was.

"Punt it, dumb ass!" the captain shouted.

Al started running towards the container. Within the first few steps he kicked the grenade back toward Avery and Burke. It rolled off the edge of the deck and blew up.

"I see the boat!" yelled Al once he was over. He pointed the rifle at a vague shape off the side of the deck. "Let's just rush it!"

"Agreed." said Mustang. He squeezed off the last few rounds in the machine gun's ammo belt and threw it on the ground. He grabbed the pistol from the captain's belt and checked the slide.

"Alright," said the captain. "One… two… three!"

They all ran for the boat. Mustang took potshots with the pistol and a few bullets clanked off of Avery's armor. He looked around and scooped up one of fallen troops assault rifles. He shot the weapon fully automatic from the hip, sending bullets flying everywhere. A few rounds smacked into Al, riddling holes in his iron body. Another hit Edward in the left arm, still slung over Al's shoulder. He cried out in pain.

"ED!" Al screamed. "Are you ok?"

"NO I'M NOT FUCKING OK!" He yelled. "I JUST GOT SHOT IN THE GOD DAMN ARM!"

"We're almost there! You're going to be fine, Ed!"

"I KNOW BUT IT STILL HURTS GOD DAMN IT!"

"Please be ok…" Al whispered, his voice cracking again.

The fog was clearing in front of them, revealing the boat. Despite the situation, they couldn't help but notice how odd it was. It was a platform sitting above two blades that rested on the water, with another block underneath the upper platform that was probably a lower deck. How it worked intrigued the captain, but right now not dying was most important to him.

Suddenly someone ran out of the cabin on top of the boat, carrying a huge minigun. The gun made a booming-grinding sound as it fired, but luckily enough their assailant couldn't hit anything with the heavy weapon. Mustang threw his pistol to the ground and shouted loudly. He opened his right hand, revealing a transmutation circle on the palm of his glove. A ball of fire formed in his hand, which he threw at the man on the boat. It hit its target spot-on, exploding on contact. The remainder of him and the minigun fell to the deck. All of them reached the ledge and jumped onto the opposing boats deck at the same time. Mustang and the captain made it.

Al didn't.

Al tried to grip the deck, but he was too heavy. With the additional weight of Edward's body he couldn't grip the deck with just one hand. He managed to somehow get Ed up onto the boat before plunging into the icy waters. His dense iron body wouldn't let him swim for a second. That didn't really matter, though, because he had never learned how to.

"HELP!" he screamed. Mustang leaped to the edge and grabbed onto Al's hand before he sunk. The captain leaned down and got his other hand.

"Damn it kid, you got to loose some weight!" the captain yelled, obviously struggling.

"And how would I do that, jackass? I'm a 500 pound suit of solid fucking iron!" Al yelled, infuriated and terrified.

They managed to pull him up onto the deck after much struggling. Al just laid there for a second, letting the water leak out of his armor.

"Al…" Ed said, weary from blood loss. "Did you just… did you just swear?"

"Yeah," Al chuckled a little, "I guess I did."

"I've never… never heard you do that before."

Suddenly the gravity of the situation hit Al… along with a bullet. Burke was looking over the edge of the carrier, firing his pistol. The captain grabbed his shotgun and rounded it on him. He took the man down with a one shot. Burke hit the deck, but he may have still been alive. They weren't about to stick around to figure out.

"Captain!" Mustang barked. "Get us the hell out of here!"

The captain ran to the cabin that the now smoldering corpse came out of. They could all hear a loud roar as the boat's engine came to life.

"Here we go!" the captain yelled. The boat gained speed and the carrier began to get smaller and smaller.

"Oh god, brother!" said Al, looking over at his brother, now unconscious on the deck. He clambered up and crawled over to Ed. He leapt up and cradled his brother in his arms.

Al was scared. In the last 20 minutes, he had been shot and almost drowned, and his brother was shot twice. Ed was loosing blood, and might have been shot somewhere vital. Al was trying to keep it down, but he was on the verge of tears. He had no idea what to do, and his brother, the only thing he had left, could die in minutes. He realized he was shaking, making his armor rattle.

"Mustang!" he shouted, snapping out of it. Mustang looked over and saw him holding his unconscious brother. "W-what do I do?"

"Get him below deck," he said. "There'll be medical supplies down there. I'll be down in a second."

Al simply nodded and stood up. He rushed over to the staircase and disappeared down the stairs.

"Why you holding up, Colonel?" the captain asked.

"Because," he said, "I have to sit down for a second."

Mustang stumbled over to the railing on the side of the deck and sat down. He turned around and watched the carrier, now a vague box shape amidst the dark fog, getting smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared from view.