Brrrriiiiiiing!

…..

Brrrriiiiiiiiing!

Edward Elric reluctantly opened his eyes and groaned softly. After staring up at the ceiling for a moment, he grabbed the clock from the nightstand next to his bed and squinted at its face.

It was 3:06a.m. Damn…

"Edward," his wife muttered groggily next to him, "Get the phone."

"Alright, alright," he mumbled back as he glared at the back of her head, though his look was short-lived. Feeling a smile creep across his lips, he changed his tune. Waking up next to Winry, regardless of the hour, was the best part of his day.

Edward swung his legs out from beneath the blankets and planted them on the floor. After one final yawn, he got to his feet and sauntered over to the phone.

"Hullo," he answered as he picked up the receiver, fighting back the urge to yawn again.

"Edward?" the caller responded almost immediately in a panic-filled voice.

He frowned to himself. Why the hell was Mustang calling at his hour? If this was about turning in his most recent research report late, Edward swore he would kill the man the next time he saw him…

"Who else would it be," he grumbled back, hoping to get the point across that it was three 'o clock in the morning.

"I need you to come to Central," Mustang replied hurriedly, "Today."

"What?! Why," Edward shot back agitatedly. "If this is about that research report, Mustang, I swear to God-"

"Edward, please," the Flame Alchemist cut him off, desperation rising in his voice. "I'll explain everything when you get here. There will be a ticket waiting for you at Resembool's station for the 6:05a.m. train. Breda will pick you up."

"Okay, fine! I'll-"

Click!

Edward pulled his ear away from the receiver and furrowed his brow, frowning down at it. After a small shrug, he hung up the phone and moved over to the closet, pulling a small black suitcase from its depths. After he had opened the suitcase and began folding and placing a few items of clothing in it, he heard a small creak behind him. Smiling slightly, he turned toward the noise. "You can go back to bed, Winry. I just got called to Central."

"Is everything okay," she asked with concern.

"Who knows," Edward replied. "I bet that idiot Mustang forgot how to tie his own shoes. Hawkeye's probably so fed up with him right now that he's instead come crawling to me for help," he joked.

"But why would he call at three in the morning?" Winry folded her arms across her chest and frowned.

He shrugged in response. "I dunno. Maybe he lost track of time or something. You know how they all are. They've practically been living in HQ for the past few months."

"Well, alright," Winry sighed and shifted her weight from one hip to the other. "Just please let me know when you get there and if there is anything wrong."

Edward stood and walked over to his wife. He reached up and gently ruffled her hair, leaving his hand on top of her head. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

After a confirming nod from Winry, Edward guided her toward himself and lightly kissed her forehead. Drawing her into a tight hug, he rested his chin atop her head and frowned. He didn't want her to see his dread; she couldn't afford to worry about anything right now. She didn't hear Mustang's voice; didn't hear the panic and distress in it.

He knew.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong.


Roy Mustang sat with his face in his hands, staring at the floor through trembling fingers. The deep breaths he took, meant for calming himself, had intensified; exacerbating him nearly to the point of hyperventilation. Nothing could calm the seething, roaring waves of anguish that swirled within his mind.

He should have been there. He had been too comfortable, too focused on the future, when he should have been focusing on the present. Careless and reckless…he thought bitterly to himself.

Still, he hoped and prayed that it was all just one long, hellish nightmare, and that he'd wake up in his office surrounded by his team.

He had failed them, sending each and every one of them into the pits of hell. Like leading lambs to slaughter…

"General."

Roy nearly jumped out of his skin upon being pulled from his thoughts. Snapping his head up, his eyes met the small, dark ones of Dr. Knox.

"I'm done with her physical," the man continued as he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "Temperature's elevated, but other vitals are normal. From what I can tell, body systems are functioning normally, but bloodwork should confirm that."

"Thank you," Roy replied hollowly.

"You might want to go in there," the doctor said with a gruff as he thrust his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the door. "Didn't say a single word to me."

Alarmed, Roy replied, "What?! Why?"

"Dunno," Dr. Knox shrugged, "She was very tense throughout the entire process. Barely even finished the physical-"

Roy was on his feet now. Pushing past Dr. Knox, he made his way to the closed door and knocked, waiting for a response. When none came, he moved his hand to the doorknob. Still not a sound.

Finally, he decided to go in, whether or not he received an invitation.

When he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat. Despite knowing what happened, and knowing the repercussions of human transmutation, something deep down inside of him expected to see something different; something contorted and unrecognizable.

Instead, he was greeting with nearly the same flawless features he had always loved. The same long, blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders and back. The same fair Amestrian skin that her father had claimed was from her mother's side of the family…

And yet, his eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the surgeon's cap that was nestled on her head, hiding a secret that only a handful of people knew…

He was abruptly jolted out of his thoughts when she shifted uneasily, her saffron-colored eyes now gazing intensely at him.


As soon as Dr. Knox left, Riza leaned back against the bed's headboard and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly to her body. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let her head fall forward, resting her forehead against her knees.

Every fiber of her being was still screaming, forcing tremors to rip throughout her entire body. Even something as simple as fabric brushing against her skin was enough to make her want to cry out.

The doctor's exam had been a nightmare. Every time Dr. Knox would graze her or touch her skin during his exam, she bit her tongue and swallowed the urge to yelp in pain. Obviously noting this, the doctor moved more slowly and took his time, quietly warning her before he would listen to her heart or feel her abdomen. But the longer the exam went on, the more anxious they both got.

Dr. Knox had already been guarded and anxious when he had entered the room, completely different from the collected and nonchalant doctor she knew him to be. His movements had been almost mechanical at first, with very little communication and eye contact. She could see his dilated pupils; smell the salted sweat on his brow. Hear the rapid, tachy beating of his heart; it practically threatened to burst from his chest.

He was afraid of her…

The exam ended abruptly after he collected a blood sample from her arm, which had led to a cold, warning stare from her. When he recapped the needle, he nodded his head and muttered a quick "thank you" before quickly getting to his feet and rapidly excusing himself from the room.

She could hear him just outside the door, rattling off her medical record to someone who had been right there. She already knew who it was. Roy had never left after he was called out to receive a report on Fuery's condition.

She found herself wishing that he wouldn't come in. The way he looked at her was unsettling; like he was still trying to determine if he was really talking to "Riza." It almost hurt worse than the pain her body was plagued with. Having those onyx-eyes watching her, studying her like some alchemical experiment; enduring the sounds of his racing heart in her ears.

Hearing a knock on the door, she felt her heart sink. He did not fail her subconscious expectations.

Roy quietly slipped into the room, stopping just as he entered. His eyes were on her, studying her again.

Stop it.

She looked up, her eyes catching his.

For a moment, neither one wavered; both of them too focused on watching the other.

Finally, she broke eye contact and focused her gaze on the floor.

Moments later, she heard him slowly advance toward her bed. When he sat down, the slight movement of the mattress caused a flash of pain to rip through her. Gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut, she leaned forward and gasped.

He moved swiftly, turning toward her in a state of panic. "What's wrong?!"

She could give him an entire rundown of everything that was racing through her mind at that moment, every agonizing pain she felt course through her body when she moved.

And yet, she didn't think even that would get the point across. Sometimes, all it took was a few, meaningful words to express everything she felt in her entire mind, body, and soul.

She took a deep, shaking breath and simply murmured, "It hurts…"


"It hurts…" The ivory-furred chimera rumbled as it slowly looked up at Roy with its white, soulful eyes. "Daddy said… it wouldn't hurt… but it hurts…"

Roy dropped to one knee and gently placed a hand on the creature's head, lightly tossing its brown mop. It leaned into it, accepting the comforting gesture. "Where… where does it hurt," he managed to murmur, trying his best to hide his rage. The longer he looked at the creature, the more disgusted he became.

How could that man have done this to her? To his own daughter?

What made it worse, though, was the fact that she didn't understand. Or, at least on the outside she made no indication that she understood.

Seeming to sense his anger, the creature shied away and bowed its large, rectangular head, whimpering quietly to itself. "I want… Daddy," it spoke, trying desperately to form its thoughts into speech.

"Please, tell me where it hurts," Roy appealed to the creature, "and then we'll see if Daddy can come back-"

"No," the chimera growled. "Daddy… now. Daddy, daddy, daddy," it began whine over and over again.

"Sir," Hawkeye placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, "Let's regroup," she said softly as her eyes wandered to the chimera. "We can ask her again in a little while."

Roy remained where he was, contemplating whether or not he would agree. Finally, after realizing that the chimera would not cooperative further, he reluctantly stood.

Upon seeing the man stand, the creature's eyes rose up to find his, curling its lips back into a twisted, hopeful smile. "You bring back… Daddy? And… Big Brother… Ed?"

Roy grimaced, and took a deep breath. "I'll try," he promised, forcing his lips to form a plastic smile.

Hearing this, the creature pulled its lips back further and thumped its massive white tail on the floor eagerly. "O…kay," it responded. "I… wait… See you…soon?"

He nodded curtly toward the creature before turning and hastily tramping out of the room. Roy briskly made his way down the hallway, avoiding the looks of countless MPs that were combing the scene. A few steps behind him, he heard another pair of boots plodding along, trying to keep pace. Finally, he made it outside. Reaching out, he found the side of the house and leaned heavily against it, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him.

"Are you alright?"

He managed to look up and meet those concern-filled sherry eyes.

"It's deplorable… despicable that something like this happened," he growled in reply. And all in the name of the military, no less… He didn't blame Edward for nearly beating the man to death.

"I know, sir," Hawkeye replied as she looked away. "To think a monster like that could exist…"

He stared at her, utterly dumbfounded by her response. The fact she thought that of a child was-

"A man like that is nothing more than a monster; a wolf in sheep's clothing," she continued as she rested her back against the side of the house, hugging her clipboard to her chest. "A monster so consumed by his work that he doesn't value the life of his only family… of his only daughter."

Roy felt a pang of familiarity and regret. A forsaken little girl… victim to her father's lustful pursuit of power and knowledge…

She turned her eyes back toward Roy, a pained expression concealing her normally stoic features, "Is there anything that can be done?"

He knew that she was referring to an alchemical cure, to which there was none. The science and complexity of chimerical alchemy was far too great for any alchemist to comprehend to date. As far as he knew, any and all attempts in separation had ended in the death of the creature. Regretfully, he shook his head. "No," he muttered in defeat, "there is nothing that can be done."

She didn't respond at first, allowing his words to sink in. Finally, she spoke, her words tinged with sadness, "Will they at least alleviate her pain?"

Honestly, he didn't know. In fact, with a case like that, euthanasia might be the kinder route. Seeing the twisted form of the child had confirmed that the transmutation was far from perfect. It was likely the creature was missing various organ systems or had multiple organs functioning against each other, disrupting the homeostasis and balance of the body. If that was the case, the child would likely die from the turmoil in her small, misshapen form. And if that didn't end her life, he knew that she would be carted away to be studied and poked and prodded. Either way, the child would lose because of her father's arrogance.

He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, understanding his thoughts. Raising his gaze to meet hers, they silently formed a pact, deciding that they would do what they could to ensure that Shou Tucker would be brought to justice… for the sake of a forsaken little girl.


"It hurts," she murmured again. "And…" she looked up at him, her eyes glistening, "I'm frightened, Roy."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Roy instinctively reached out to take her hand in his. "Riza…"

She pulled her hand from his reach and raised it, painfully grasping the cap on her head. "How can I continue following you when I'm like this…?"

Peeling the cap off, she winced as she pulled it down and crumpled it into a small ball in her hands.

Roy's chest tightened and he swallowed hard, trying to push back his feelings of dread. Despite wanting to look away, Roy found that he couldn't, his eyes transfixed on the pair of silvery, triangular ears flattened against her skull. He noted the remnants of dried blood that still caked their edges, feeling a surge of disgust and anger swelling inside of him.

"Riza," he reached out once again, his hands desperately grasping for hers.

"Don't," she growled sharply as she drew away from him. "Don't… I-"

Her hand suddenly flew to her mouth and covered it as she began to violently cough.

In an instant Roy was next to her, one arm stretched behind her and on her back, the other on her shoulder. She leaned into him, quaking as the barrage of coughs racked her body. He kept his grip on her until the coughs finally ceased.

Panting and choking for air, she pulled her hand away from her mouth and stopped; taking one last strangled breath as she stared down at it, her eyes widened in horror.

Seeing her panic, Roy quickly focused his gaze on her hand and froze. "Oh my god…"

Her palm was now covered with a fresh layer of blood. Trembling, she gasped, "What-what's hap-happening…?"

Roy was already at his feet, rushing toward the door. They needed help. They needed-

Upon opening the door, he crashed into someone that had positioned themselves outside of it. Recovering quickly, Roy was about to push past the unknown until he recognized him. "Edward…?"

Edward Elric stood in front of him, his face pale and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Mustang… What… What's going on?"