Edward turned towards his little brother. Al looked back at him, his golden eyes wide and curious. Edward had succeeded in bringing back his brother's body, having used a Philosopher's Stone to negate the law of Equivalent Exchange, using the entire thing up in the process. He was still missing his arm and leg, but those were nothing compared to his brother. They were in the outer office, waiting for Mustang to finish and come out to see them. The door was open, so anybody could see in. It still made his heart skip a beat to see his precious baby brother alive and well. The younger wore a blue version of his coat, with silver pants and a silver jacket underneath, imitating his older brother. It made Edward's heart swell with love.
"Hey, Al?" Alphonse's eyes widened slightly, and he leaned forwards. "Yes, Brother?" Edward's eyes ran down his brother's body, finally stopping on his face. "You look like Mom. Your eyes have that red gleam, and your face is rounded like hers. Of course, that might change, but at least you get to look like her." His voice turned bitter at the end. He had never forgiven the universe for making him look almost exactly like his father, who he hated, instead of his mother, who he loved. Alphonse felt himself soften. "Oh, Brother..." Edward nearly winced as he saw the pity on his brother's face. He didn't need pity. Al was the one who needed it, not him.
"Red gleam?" Havoc asked, interested. Edward looked up, startled. "Our mother wasn't fully Amestrian. Her mother had red eyes, and you could always see a red gleam behind her eyes if you looked." Fuery frowned. "The only people that I know to have red eyes are the Ishbalans..." Havoc gasped. "No..." Fuery looked at them. Edward bowed his head, which was answer enough. "Our mother's mother was a full Ishbalan. Her father was Amestrian. So we're a quarter Ishbalan." Alphonse supplied. "So...we killed your people," Falman stated. Alphonse shrugged.
"What about Ed? Are his eyes tinted with red?" Breda asked curiously. Edward waved flippantly. "Come look if you want to." Fuery crouched down by Edward, looking deep into his eyes. Edward looked back, and Fuery was struck by just how deep they were, shades of gold swirling together, and so, so, so sad. It made Fuery want to burst out in tears, to sob and hug this person who had such sad eyes. But no matter how hard he looked, he saw nothing but gold, light gold, dark gold, heavy gold, beautiful, beautiful gold.
Fuery rocked back on his heels and sighed, defeated. "I can't find it." He admitted. Edward grinned. "Anyone else want to try?" He asked. Havoc switched places with Fuery and leaned forwards. He looked at the whites first. There was no red anywhere in them. Then he looked at his pupils. They were darker than they should be, pitch black and lightless, but definitely not red. Then slowly, hesitantly, he looked right at the iris.
Gold. Light gold, dark gold, medium gold, heavy gold, pale gold, yellow gold, white gold, black gold, so many golds, all swirling and mixing and fusing and beautiful, and so, so, so sad. It was heartbreaking. Havoc looked again. There was definitely no red anywhere in his eyes, and he sat back, defeated. "Nothing." He switched with Falman.
The older man was good at looking for things. He was an Information Specialist for a reason, after all. He leaned forwards, looking thoroughly at Edward's eyes, trying to ignore the sorrow that ran deep throughout their golden pools. He couldn't find anything but gold and sorrow.
He sat back, disappointed. "I didn't find anything." Alphonse stifled a giggle as Falman switched with Breda. Hawkeye shot him a glance but said nothing.
Breda looked into Edward's eyes and froze. The pure sorrow that filled them, giving golden eyes a depth that he had never seen before, and he could see knowledge. Knowing. He could see gold and a far too black pupil, and pure white, but no red, and he pulled back in failure. "Not even a reflection."
Hawkeye frowned, then strode forwards, grabbing Edward's chin and tilting his head up to look her in the eyes. He met her gaze steadily. She completely ignored the sadness in them; she had seen similar looks in many eyes, including her own, instead using her hawk eyes to search for red. She found no traces, not even reflections. Nothing.
She released Edward's chin. "Nothing. Not even a speck or a reflection. He doesn't have red eyes."
Alphonse was grinning widely. "Actually, he does. Show them, Brother." Edward squeezed his eyes shut. "You see," Alphonse explained, "Brother's eyes gain a ring of red around the pupils when he experiences extreme emotions like anger, or when he feels strongly."
A small chuckle. "Well, that's interesting. I always wondered why Fullmetal's eyes would flash red when angry. I didn't know that you two were Ishbalan." Alphonse's eyes flew to the man leaning against the door frame of his office. "Colonel!"
Mustang smirked. "I gotta see this." Alphonse looked back at his brother worriedly as he opened his eyes.
Everybody gasped as Edward's eyes opened. They were still the same beautiful gold, but red flames danced around his pupils. Alphonse smiled proudly. "Good job, Brother." He whispered.
Suddenly, a man dashed in and begun shaking Edward's hand frantically. Hawkeye instinctively drew her gun and pointed it at the intruder. "Oh, I'm so glad to meet you! I saw you through the door and could instantly tell! You're Xerxian!" Everyone paled. Edward tried to jerk away. "I could tell instantly! You can't be any less than half! Oh, even eighths and twentieths are amazingly hard, nearly impossible to track down! And to find a half! Amazing! To think that the Xerxian line could have remained so pure after all these years!" Edward tried to yank away again. "Who the fuck are you?" He shouted. The man kept on. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm Doctor Hendrikson, I'm studying Xerxes, I'm thirty-five years old, and I'm a researcher for the military. I'm afraid that I don't know who you are, but we can deal with that later. You need to come with me! I've never seen a half before and judging by your eyes, you're a quarter Ishbalan as well! I'm so excited!" He tried to drag Edward away. "Wait! What about him!" He indicated Alphonse. Dr. Hendrikson took one look at him and shook his head. "Definitely a Xerxian ancestor, but so little of it that it's not worth pursuing. Why?" Edward tried to pull away again. "Because he's my brother!" Dr. Hendrikson looked at him with that hated pity in his eyes. "You boys might share a parent, but you can't be any more than half siblings. I'm guessing whoever had the Ishbalan blood was the parent of both of you. I'm sorry." Then he dragged Edward away, leaving a room of stunned people.
Alphonse sniffled. "Mom cheated on Dad? I and Brother are only half-siblings?" He felt horrible. He'd made Edward go through so much, and they weren't even full siblings? He clung to the fact that they still had the same mother, that they were still related.
It was all he had left.
FMA
It took Mustang two days to find Edward. Dr. Hendrikson was high up in the military, and nearly all of his work was classified. It was a struggle simply to find where he worked, what his job was, and how to get there.
Alphonse had spent those two days fluctuating between anger, misery, and panic. He wanted, no, needed to find his brother, needed to see him, to hear him. And he was terrified that, now that they weren't full siblings, that Edward would leave.
The entire team went with him to the place where Edward was. They were all concerned for their second youngest teammate, who had been kidnapped by a high-ranking military researcher. And now that they knew the kid was only a quarter Amestrian, there was even more danger.
It had been a shock to discover that he and Al were only half-siblings and that Trisha, sweet, kind, beautiful, Trisha, had cheated on her husband, who she had loved so much that she couldn't live without him.
Mustang lifted one gloved hand and knocked on the door of Dr. Hendrikson's house. They all waited with baited breaths, hoping against hope that Edward would be there, wishing, hoping, that he would be found. It had only been two days, but unspeakable horrors could have happened to him during those two days. And since he wasn't fully Amestrian, then it would all be perfectly legal.
A young woman opened the door. She was in her early thirties, had long blonde hair and blue eyes, and an innocent expression. "Hello," She said warily. "I'm Beth. I'm Dr. Hendrikson's wife. Are you looking for him?"
Mustang smiled his signature womanizing smirk. "Yes, we are, in fact. We believe that he has something of ours, and we'd really prefer to get it back, and the sooner the better." Beth's eyes tightened slightly, but she opened the door wider. "He's in the basement. Through that door." she pointed.
Mustang walked past her, sending her a charming smile. His team followed silently, worried. Was Edward really here? Was he hurt? Was he sick? How had he been treated?
They opened the door and began walking down the staircase. It was very small and spiraled tightly. Finally, another door could be seen at the bottom. An eye poked out of a hole in it, then disappeared.
Dr. Hendrikson burst out of the door suddenly. "Colonel! What a surprise! I didn't expect to see you here! Is there a reason for your sudden visit?" Mustang frowned, surprised. "Two days ago, you took one of my subordinates, a young Edward Elric. I have come to ask that he be returned to me, and, if necessary, use force to take him back. I trust that you know what I'm talking about?"
He watched amusedly as the color drained out of Dr. Hendrikson's face, leaving it white as a sheet. "The Xerxian boy? H-He was y-y-your subordinate?" The man suddenly looked as if he'd done something that he now sincerely regretted. "I-I-I'm sorry. He refused to say anything. I-I-I didn't know who he was. He...He isn't here anymore. I-I sent him to a camp where those few of pure Xerxian descent are being gathered. I-I wanted to go later to study how the traits diluted through time and... and their culture, and I-I-I didn't... I didn't know where else to send him, Colonel. He didn't even tell me his name. All Xerxians that are at least a twentieth and their families are being sent there for study. They...They'll all be released later, and if...if you have the right papers, then you can get him out now. I really didn't know where else to put him. Most Amestrians are either fascinated with Xerxes or extremely prejudiced against it. I thought that the boy would be best off with his own people. You understand, right, Colonel?"
Mustang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He could understand why the man had done it; he would probably have done the same thing, but this was ridiculous. More work. "Just tell me where you sent him." He ordered. The other man breathed a sigh of relief. "He's in the East, as close to the ruins of Xerxes as one can be and still be in Amestris. There's a little tribe there. They've been given some land to themselves, and some books and artifacts from Xerxes so that they can learn about their culture. They're encouraged to revert back to, and eventually become the desert tribe. Eventually, we hope that they can start their own country, and we've started...encouraging...this behavior."
Hawkeye stepped forwards, fire in her eyes. "And how do you 'encourage' this behavior?" The poor doctor shrank back. "Oppression. We press them and beat them down and restrict them. We force them to become Xerxian, in the hopes that they will rebel against us and form their own country. We punish them for the slightest infraction, and we are cruel to them. We make it insufferable. All that they need is a leader, and we hope that they will rebel, fighting back and forming their own country." He looked up pleadingly. "We're trying to rebuild a lost nation. Please have mercy. I was just thinking about what would be best for them in the long run."
Falman spoke up suddenly, his voice soft. "Those who are oppressed always either fight back, and keep fighting forever, never losing their pride and indignance, or are crushed and destroyed, always to be filled with shame, hatred, and anger, and, worst of all, guilt. I sincerely hope that it will be the former, and not the latter, Doctor. I would hate to see what would happen to you."
Hawkeye's voice sharpened. "If we are unable to get our teammate back, sir, then rest assured that you will regret sending him there with every bone, muscle, ligament, organ, nerve, vein, and soul in your body. This I swear." The man paled. He was no fool. He'd caught the reference to human transmutation that she had made, and understood completely what she meant. "T-t-t-t-the F-F-F-Führer c-c-can g-g-g-give y-y-you t-t-the p-p-papers t-to s-s-set h-h-him f-f-free. J-j-just l-let m-m-me g-g-go!" Hawkeye grinned coldly, sadistically. "Thank you. I'll let you go for now." She turned and the rest of the group followed her. She paused at the door. "If you leave, we'll find you and put you through twice the pain I've already promised you." Then they left, leaving the poor doctor quivering, his expensive trousers permanently stained with a foul yellow liquid.
FMA
Mustang came into the room. Everyone leaned forwards. "Well?" Al asked, impatient. Mustang sighed. "The Führer has apparently gone on a several-month-long diplomatic trip to Aerugo. We'll have to get the papers from him once he returns. Only those with the proper clearance can speak to him, and I, unfortunately, am not one of them." Alphonse looked like he'd burst into tears any moment. "We'll just have to wait, and if we can't get him back... " He left the sentence open. Hawkeye twirled her guns menacingly.
FMA
The months passed far too slowly. Mustang requested the hardest and most time-consuming missions, spending weeks at a time at towns and cities both large and small, hunting through the countryside and traveling. He broke the record for the most missions solved in a day, week, and month. Alphonse never left his side. Hawkeye was even more trigger-happy than usual, her hands always on her guns.
Everybody had noticed that Edward wasn't there anymore. The mere fact that you could hear him coming from the next town over meant that everybody knew when he was coming.
It also meant that everybody knew that Ed's disappearance happened to coincide with Team Mustang's strange behavior. Edward's kidnappings and heritage were now top secret, with only those involved or had a high enough rank even knowing. And even then, most of them were only told that he was part Xerxian, not the Ishbalan part, or even how much Xerxian blood was in him.
Mustang appreciated that.
FMA
The Führer finally arrived back in Central, almost a year since he'd left. Mustang was one of the first to get an appointment to see him, after stating that he'd been waiting to see him since before he'd even left.
Mustang knocked on the Führer's door respectfully. "Lord Führer? May I enter?" He called through the door. The door opened in response. Mustang stepped in and bowed. "Lord Führer. It is, as always, an honor to be seeing you."
Bradley chuckled. "Please, rise, Colonel." Mustang straightened. "Now..." He leaned forwards. "What did you want to see me for, Colonel?" Mustang almost sighed but caught himself in time. "I need the papers to get somebody out of the Xerxian camp, Lord Führer." He said. Bradley raised his eyebrows in surprise, sitting back in his chair. "Now, who would you need to get out of the Xerxian camp?" Mustang's voice never faltered. "One Major Edward Elric, sir." Bradley's eyebrows nearly disappeared in his hairline. "And how did this happen, Colonel?" He asked. Mustang's chin raised an inch. "He was kidnapped by a Doctor Hendrikson, a researcher for the military, and was sent to the Xerxian camp on account of the fact that his father is full-blooded Xerxian." A sharp gasp from one of the guards, though quickly muffled.
Bradley rose. "You won't need the papers. I'll go myself. The kidnapping of a State Alchemist is a serious crime, even if it is by a top military researcher." He smiled kindly. "Why don't you go on ahead. I'll arrive as soon as I finish up my business here, but you go tell Edward that we're going to get him out of there. Dismissed, Colonel!"
Mustang left, heaving a sigh of relief. They would get Edward back. The Führer was coming himself. It was going to be okay. It was all going to be okay.
He headed to his office to give the others the good news.
The wind changed.
Far away, under a sweltering sun, in a desert, in a field, a small (Who are you calling a minuscule speck of sand too tiny and insignificant to be seen under three microscopes put together!) boy with long, beautiful golden hair and firey molten eyes set planted the end of his hoe firmly in the ground and leaned on it. "تغییر در باد امروز، آل وجود دارد. من دوباره به زودی خواهید دید، من فکر می کنم." There's a change in the wind today. I'll be seeing you quite soon, I think, Al. The man next to him, also with golden hair and eyes, although not as bright or as golden, smiled. "من کاملا موافقم." I completely agree.
