A/N: Quick warning (though not sure if it should be a warning or not…), but there are medical themes described in this chapter, namely physical exam. Sometimes I feel like it's awkward to write and talk about, but nothing crazy here (the most extreme being 'abdominal palpation,' or feeling the abdomen for abnormalities). I figured I would warn people since sometimes exams seem weird, though they aren't weird to me because in my profession we do them quite often. There will be a few more medical themes described in the story (such as anatomy, pharmaceuticals, canine science, etc.,) because I'm a veterinary student and I like incorporating what I have learned into stories. :)

Anyways, onto the fourth chapter of Humanity!

Edward knew exactly what had happened.

After he had arrived at Central Station, a rather shaken Breda was there to pick him up. Edward didn't even have to ask him; the man told him everything.

Everything about the mission. The lost communication. Finding nearly a dozen slain soldiers. Their stroke of sheer luck in locating their other comrades. Havoc and Fuery covered in blood, desperately clinging to life. Hearing a bloodcurdling scream. Mustang vanishing, reappearing with Hawkeye mere minutes later; his face as pale as a sheet, her face drenched in blood.

He told him about their conditions. Every little detail.

Edward didn't even think; he simply put himself on auto-pilot, maneuvering his way through groups of nurses and past hospital patients as they shuffled along while Breda nearly sprinted behind him, trying to keep up.

It had to be a test. Just one, big test to prove he really was capable of his new advisor position. He'd walk in and they'd all be there, congratulating him on his rapid response time. He'd hate them, and maybe he'd even punch Mustang in the face for making him go through it, but at least they'd all be alive and well and not-

Edward didn't even realize he had made it to the room Breda had directed him too. He was just suddenly there, his hand on the doorknob. Then it opened and Mustang rushed out and plowed into him, practically knocking him on his feet.

"Edward…?"

Edward looked up, his golden eyes meeting the widened, terrified midnight ones that belonged to the General. He could feel the blood drain from his face, most likely matching it to the shade of Mustang's visage. "Mustang… What… What's going on? What happened?"

As Mustang opened his mouth to respond, a fit of coughing from behind him interrupted him, causing him to whip his head around. At the same time, a hand that seemed to appear out of nowhere, reached over and touched Mustang's shoulder. The black-haired man gasped and practically jumped out of his skin.

The male nurse that had approached the pair quickly drew his hand back and softly said, "General, we need to talk to you regarding Sergeant Fuery's condition."

Mustang stared back in a complete daze, his mouth slightly ajar; as if he couldn't comprehend the man's simple statement.

As the nurse opened his mouth to repeat his comment, Edward abruptly cut him off. "Go."

Mustang looked back at Edward, still in utter shock.

"Go!"

Edward's forceful command seemed to snap the General out of his daze. He attempted to gather his words but was stopped when the nurse spoke up again and asked him to follow him.

"Everything's fine. Go," Edward said again, softer. "Don't worry."

Seemingly calming down more, Mustang mouthed a "thank you," before being led away by the nurse, but not after turning to glance over his shoulder, past Edward.

He took his chance to quietly slip into the room and close the door with a soft click.

Edward knew the man would be back in a couple of minutes. So if he wanted to get anything done, he'd have to do it now, lest he have the General breathing down his neck the entire time.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. Don't appear nervous, he quietly commanded himself as he felt his pulse slow. Turning back toward the other side of the room, he zeroed in on the hospital bed.

Sitting cross-legged and leaning against the headboard, staring down and to the side of the bed was Hawkeye. Just Hawkeye.

Edward walked quickly and confidently toward the bed, grabbing a tongue depressor and a handful of tissues as he went. He slowly eased onto the bed across from Hawkeye, allowing his heavy automail leg to hang off the edge. For a few moments, neither one stirred; his eyes focused on her, studying her, while she continued to stare at the floor, her fringe covering her eyes.

Upon seeing the blood in the palm of her hand and the small trail of it that ran from her lip, Edward's stomach sank. Blood... That was not a good sign.

He lifted his arm and extended his hand toward her, offering the tissues he had grabbed. "Here," he said softly, watching her anxiously.

Head still lowered, she lifted saffron-colored eyes to meet his.

Please speak, he silently begged.

As if she had read his mind, she gently took the tissues from his hand and dabbed the corner of her mouth before slowly wiping her hands with them. "Thank you, Edward," she murmured, lifting her head slightly to see him better.

Edward felt a sense of relief wash over him. Vocal cords normal and intact, he mentally noted, along with noting a change in iris color. Making a list in his head had always felt so wrong, but he knew that in order to make sure he covered all the bases, he had to go through all the steps.

And judging by the look she was giving him, he knew that she was expecting him to follow protocol as well, with her being no exception. She had accompanied Edward and Mustang before; she knew the guidelines and what it meant to fall inside or outside them.

After Edward had become the State Alchemist Advisor, one of the first laws he urged the Fuhrer to pass was the Chimerical Act, which decreed that, unless used for licensed research purposes, the practice of chimerical alchemy on either humans or animals was strictly forbidden. Despite passing this law, however, Edward still found that he was constantly called out to investigate cases the military had discovered; as much as he hated to think it, he felt fortunate and relieved that they had all been animal-based experiments. But he had been called out so often that a protocol was developed in order to assess the quality of life for the creature.

To some, it seemed simple enough. If it was not missing anything vital and was not suffering, it would often be relocated or placed in a setting where it could be observed. If not… the kindest thing that could be done was euthanasia. And even though it was the right thing to do, Edward still felt a sense failure when the latter was decided. Even though he and Al were working, researching, and developing while thousands of miles apart, they still had only bits and pieces of knowledge that could even be applied to separation.

Now he was forced to use this supposedly "simple protocol" on a person; someone that cared about nonetheless.

It wasn't right. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair!-

"Did the General call you," she asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

"Yeah," Edward replied lightly, delicately, honestly.

"I'm sorry," she uttered, looking at him fully now, "that we had to pull you away from Resembool."

He allowed the corners of his lips to turn upward slightly. "Hey. Don't worry about it. It's my job, and besides… Even if it wasn't my job, I'd come regardless." He allowed a genuine smile to cross his face. "You two have been there for us for so long, I wouldn't dare think of turning my back on you guys now." It was the truth. He would never admit it to Mustang, but he was grateful for all of the support he received from Mustang and Hawkeye, even after he first left the military (although, only to be back again).

Her lips curled upward into a small, yet genuine smile, understanding what he had not spoken out loud.

"Now," he began slowly, but more confidently, "I just want to check a few things, if that's okay. But if you don't feel comfortable anymore, please let me know." She was comfortable with him now; he did not want to mess this up…

She nodded in reply. Like he remembered, she knew the protocol.

"Could you open your mouth," he asked as he shifted the tongue depressor to his dominant hand.

Hawkeye compiled, opening her mouth partway.

He peered inside, noting the thin layer of blood that covered her mouth, and the two pairs of prominent canines that replaced the normal, smaller pair. When he gently compressed her tongue with the depression stick, however, she gasped and quickly drew away.

"I'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "But I think I saw something. Could you open your mouth one more time?" When she did, he peered inside once more. That was a good sign.

"Do you feel any pain in your mouth," he asked as he pulled the tongue depressor away.

She furrowed her brow, as if trying to centralize the pain, which he was sure, was plentiful. Finally she nodded and muttered a quiet "yes".

"You bit through your tongue, and it's still bleeding," he explained. "I bet that's the source of the blood." Seeing signs of relief on her face, he continued, "I want to check your abdomen for signs of bleeding, too, if that's okay. I know it'll hurt, but please try not to tense up…"

Again she nodded in compliance.

He scooted closer on the bed and placed one hand on her abdomen, the other on the small of her back, lightly compressing as he did so. Nothing felt unusual, he decided. Nothing that felt like misplaced blood, distended organs, or… He furrowed his brow.

Suddenly she tensed, causing him to draw back quickly. Looking up, he saw her concerned expression. Almost instantly he realized his mistake. She had sensed his uncertainty.

"I'm sorry," Edward said sincerely. "Everything seems fine," he reassured her. "It's just… well…" He suddenly felt like an idiot. He'd probably sound like an idiot too, but…

"Well, I guess I'm not used to not feeling a baby," he admitted sheepishly, feeling his face redden slightly.

His admission seemed to surprise Hawkeye at first, but she quickly concealed it behind a small smile. "I haven't seen Winry in a while. How far along is she now?"

"Six months," he replied, albeit a bit proudly. "She and Pinako think it's a girl, but I'm thinking it's a boy."

Her expression softened. "I'm happy for you two. I can't wait to meet it…" she trailed off during the last sentence, lacing it with uncertainty.

Not wanting her to dwell on the uncertainty of the future, Edward quickly jumped back into the protocol. There was just one more thing he needed to check.

"How about we discuss that once I'm done," he suggested quickly. "I just need to check your…" It was his turn to trail off. Her ears? Those ears? The notion felt awkward; it was a sensitive topic…

Seeming to understand, she looked down and murmured, "That's fine," before looking away.

He stood cautiously and stepped over to her side. The triangular, silver ears had remained flat against her head throughout their conversation, twitching once in a great while. From what he could see, they lightened immensely at the tips, changing from deep silver to a light blonde. Looks proportional, he noted silently as he leaned closer, moving to brace his knee atop the bed. The ear canal should be…

Suddenly, she let out a high-pitched yelp, causing him to leap back in surprise. Almost instantly, her hands were over her mouth, a look of mortification reflected in her saffron eyes.

His mind was racing at a mile a minute. He hadn't even touched them. What was wrong? What happened? What-?

His eyes trained down to where his knee had been five seconds earlier, now noticing that the sheets weren't lying perfectly flat, forming an almost tubular shape.

God, he felt stupid. While he was trying to not focus too much attention on one key change, he had inadvertently drawn attention to probably the most sensitive one.

His face was burning. He did not expect that. He did not expect that. He did not expect that! "I'm sorry," he quickly blurted out.

Her hands still over her mouth, she nodded her head quickly, blinking away any wetness that arose from the sudden shooting pain.

Edward opened his mouth again but was quickly stopped when he heard the door swing open. Quickly jerking his head upright, he saw Mustang in the door, wearing a mask of exasperation and panic.

"How's Fuery," Edward asked, finally breaking the silence of the seemingly endless car ride to the warehouse where they found Mustang's team. The young man had, for some reason, wanted to get to the site as quickly as possible in order to examine the transmutation circle; in the hopes that he could try and begin formulating a reversal.

Roy felt his chest tighten. It had been a tough discussion with the doctor.

The blows kept coming…

"He's in a coma," he finally whispered, his words riddled with guilt. "There was a lot of blood loss, and they suspect a massive infection…" He paused for a moment. "And Havoc… He'll be okay. A few of his tracheal rings are crushed, so he needs to receive oxygen."

After a few moments of silence, Edward spoke again. "You need to stop blaming yourself. Did you foresee any of this," Edward asked rhetorically. Roy knew that the young man knew him well enough. He would never send his team out on a mission like that if that level of danger had existed…

Roy didn't answer, keeping his eyes glued to the road. They were almost there.

"I need you to pull yourself away from the situation," Edward murmured as he too continued to stare straight ahead. "I need you to think about this alchemy logically with me."

He could hear the pain in Edward's words. It was a subject he hated discussing, and for good reasons.

Despite Roy not replying, Edward continued. "You could see just as well as I could that the transmutation was a failure. We have both seen what a successful reaction could produce…"

Roy knew exactly what he was talking about. The differences between a failure and a success. Though the boundaries would always be considered grey, there were obvious examples they had encountered throughout the years.

The little girl, Nina, had been a failure; a concoction of child and dog that would have never fit into society again. She died as what some would describe a monster.

The chimera that had followed Greed and those that had followed Kimbley, and had later joined their side, had been relative successes. They were able to disguise themselves and blend into mainstream society, having the ability to disappear into the mix if they so choose to.

Riza did not fit in either of those extremes, falling between the cracks and into the grey area. But with such prominent and obvious features, it was clear that she tipped toward being marked as a failure, at least by the former military command's twisted standard.

The glare of flashing lights suddenly drew Roy's attention back to his driving, making him aware that they had arrived at the warehouse.

The military police were still combing the area, looking for any additional clues or evidence that could be used to track down the "doctor" and his remaining cohort.

The monster had vanished, slipping away during the confusion and mayhem he had caused, disappearing into the night. He was still out there, lurking in the shadows, possibly seeking out his next victims…

Roy stopped the car and put it into park, killing the engine. As he and Edward got out, a few MPs walked over to them, trying to give them a report of what they found. From the sounds of it, it had been nothing significant. Roy raised his hand, silencing them. "My colleague and I would like to take a look inside." Focusing his glare on a nearby lieutenant, he narrowed his midnight eyes. "Be sure that we are not disturbed."

The lieutenant quickly saluted and repeated the command into a radio device in his hand.

Roy briskly walked through the doors of the warehouse, Edward following a few steps behind.

After turning down a plethora of twisting and turning corridors, Edward asked, "How did you find them?"

Still keeping his gaze forward, Roy replied distantly, "Before we went back to square one, Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong suggested we check out this particular warehouse district. He said that he had received a few reports of 'strange noises' during the night, but had not yet investigated it. It was our only option at that point, so we took it.

"After arriving here, it was only a matter of time before we infiltrated it." He stopped to step over the burnt remains of what appeared to be a contorted, hair-covered corpse.

"We quickly located the bodies of four additional men. Finding Havoc and Fuery happened soon after. I left Colonel Armstrong and Lieutenant Breda with them to continue the search for Captain Hawkeye alone," he paused briefly, his voice wavering; a surge of emotion welling up inside of him. "I discovered her shortly after… After I had heard a-" He stopped a doorway at the end of the long winding hallway and murmured, "Scream."

Edward paused behind him, but said nothing. He preferred it that way. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the darkened room, the familiarity pounding his senses.

The scent of burnt flesh and iron still wafted in the air like a fog. The cries and moans of the caged beasts that trimmed the walls were now gone, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. It appeared as it did when Roy had first arrived there. The burnt bodies of two additional chimera laid in a twisted heaps off to the side of the transmutation circle that decorated the floor. In its center was a large, dried, deep red pool of blood.

The memories flooded his mind, and Roy suddenly felt nauseous. He covered his mouth and nose with his hand and turned away, squeezing his eyes shut.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he cracked his eyes open, peering into a pair of golden ones. "Take a minute. I'm going to take a look."

Roy nodded in reply and slowly closed his eyes again, trying desperately to push the memories of screams and blood from his mind.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there, or how long he had been lost in his thoughts. All he knew is that he was suddenly pulled from his stupor by a voice. "Edward?" He opened his eyes and turned toward the young man.

Edward was crouched down, sitting back on his heels, his hands clamped onto his head. He murmured something that Roy couldn't make out. Taking a step closer, Roy called his name again, a feeling of anxiousness rising inside of him. "Edward?"

"No… That's-that's impossible…," the young man muttered to himself, as if he hadn't heard Roy.

"Edward!" Roy was over at his side, crouched down next to him. Horrified golden eyes rose to meet his, pulling Roy back into a sea of dread. "What!? What's impossible?!"

"That-that rune!" Edward pointed a trembling finger toward a symbol etched into the circle, just a few feet in front of him. "He… He-" His eyes widened, as if fully realizing the gravity of his own words, "He used a Philosopher's Stone."

A/N: So, now things get VERY interesting. I hope that I portrayed everyone as in character as possible. I imagine Edward still having some of his quirky, boyish personality, but also see him being serious when he needs to be, since he is now around 21-22 years old.

And in case you didn't figure it out, what was under the sheet was a tail. I was so tempted to have Edward be like: "Nope. Nope! Imma let Mustang deal with that" (of course, with a bit more finesse). But I figured it would be inappropriately timed and placed, though I may have occasional awkward humor from time to time.

I'm going to have a few weeks of exams coming up, so expect updates probably within 2 weeks (after that, only one more exam until finals in December!) I haven't named the next chapter yet, but there will be some action and suspense, of course.

Anyways, don't hesitate to let me know what you think! Thank you to all that have reviewed, favorited, and followed Humanity! You guys are great :)