A/N: Yay!!! I got the fourth chapter out! I'm so happy with myself, I could dance around with joy! Well my lovelies, I give you the fourth installment of "Seven's My Lucky Number", enjoy! Oh yesh, and thankies for everyone who reviewed and fav'ed/added my story, you have all of my luff, and I will give you all cupcakes (if only e-cupcakes)!


Ron hugged herself for warmth as a cold November draft blew into the small hospital. After a few moments of fruitless effort, she gave up on her attempt at returning to sleep. With an annoyed sigh, she pulled herself out of the hospital bed, stretching her aching muscles as she planted her feet on the cold tile. She closed the window that lay just above the head of her own bed, clicking the lock into place, and absently wondered why a nurse would open a window this close to winter.

Ron sat on the small bed, tracing patterns on the plaster ceiling with her eyes. She shifted her gaze to the door with a smile as her favorite hunk of metal clanked in. "Hey, Al," she said, her smile reaching to her eyes.

"Ron! Good News!" Alphonse said, excitement shining in his voice, "The doctor said that today you can get out of here."

"Thank God," she replied, as a renewed eagerness to be free of the overbearing walls of the bland hospital consuming her. "So when can I leave?"

"I guess it'll take a few hours to get the right papers in order, but he said at the latest you'll be out of her by early this afternoon, Al said, nearly jumping with joy.

"That's great!" Ron exclaimed. The two chattered animatedly for several minutes before Ron noticed something was missing, "Al, where's Edward?" He was not sitting in the chair in the corner as he had been for the majority of the afternoon the previous day.

"Oh, he's in the alchemy section of the Central Library, researching. He said that he didn't think you'd mind if he didn't come along."

"I see," she replied, looking down for only a moment. "So…What's he researching?"

"Nothing important, just something that he's been looking into," Alphonse answered nervously, fidgeting in the hospital seat.

"Okay. So what happens if he finds what he's looking for?" Ron asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, then I guess we'll go and investigate it; hopefully we can find a lead and go from there. My brother's smart, and he's working so hard, I know he'll get what he's looking for." Al had started a monologue, the admiration apparent in his voice.

"How long will you guys be gone?" Ron felt herself straying dangerously close to a topic that she'd instinctively like to avoid.

"Days, weeks, who knows?" Alphonse said, the excitement never dying from his voice.

"Weeks?" Ron's voice broke as she got the word out. It was the second time she had realized just how dependent she had become on Alphonse; sine he had come into her life, he had been like fire to the ice of her being. She wasn't sure that she would be able to go back to living the cold, lonely life she had once accustomed herself to.

"What'll you do once you're out of the hospital?" Al questioned, still innocent and completely clueless.

Ron took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice as level as possible," I-I don't really know, Al." It seemed like her childhood was trying to repeat itself; a good thing seemed to come into her life only for fickle fate to decide that it should be roughly and violently snatched from her fingertips. "Maybe-"

She had been cut off as a man in a black military uniform marched in the room. "I'm looking for a Miss Chase." Ron waved a hand weakly at him, and he snapped a quick salute.

"Private Fuller; I've been sent by the Fuhrer to collect your response to his request." The man stood at attention, waiting on Ron. From the overly serious way he moved to the way he had addressed his purpose, Ron could tell he took the task like a personal command from God.

Ron looked from the man to Alphonse, who as far as she could tell seemed puzzled, and back again. Her lips spread into a smile. "Tell the Fuhrer that I would be more than happy to comply with his wishes." The man saluted once more before marching out of the room in the same overdone fashion as he had entered.

"What was that about?" Alphonse asked, looking at the door as the man left. His tone was both curious and suspicious at the same time.

"Don't worry, Al; I'll tell you later," Ron replied, still beaming. She had successfully solved all of the problems that had worried her in one simple solution. Edward and Alphonse would have to come back to Central sometime, and when they did she would be able to visit her friend. She wouldn't have to worry about starving on the streets anymore. It seemed like such a selfish thing to her, but she would deal with that in stride. Alphonse seemed placated and they once again chattered happily away.

It was seventeen minutes after noon by the clock on the wall when the same cheery nurse, Abigail, bustled in, her graying hair still tied back in the loose bun that bobbed behind her when she moved. "Didn't I tell you, you'd be right as rain?" The plump nurse took the clipboard at the end of the bed and wrote on it once more.

"All we need is your guardian's signature and you're free to go," she said, not looking up from the charts.

"Guardian? What do you mean 'guardian'?" Ron asked, confusion on her now alert face.

"Why that nice young man who signed all the insurance papers when you arrived, of course. About yea tall," the nurse held a hand several inches above her head, "very handsome. We already took the liberty of contacting him to come pick you up."

Anger bubbled inside of Ron as it all clicked together. She had never known that this level of hate was possible; it was more intense than that she had held for the vile woman who had kept her imprisoned for most of her childhood.

The nurse continued to flounce around the room, finally coming to a halt in front of Ron with a paper bag in hand. "These are the medications that the good doctor wanted you to be on; they're mostly vitamins, but they'll help you recover quickly so we won't have a repeat of your visit." She winked at Ron, not seeming to notice her inner fury, before bouncing from the room like a young girl.

Al looked warily at Ron as she dug her nails into her palms, gouging crescents in the tender, pale skin. "What are you going to do, Ron?" He asked the words as if expecting her to jump up and bolt out of the window in nothing but the hospital gown.

"Why what other option is left to me, Al?" She said the rhetorical question through gritted teeth, lifting her nails from her bruised flesh before it could break the skin. "I'm going to wait for my guardian." She spat the word as if it left a nasty taste in her mouth.

She got out of the bed as quickly as she could, yanking the machine sensors from her skin roughly. Her clothes had been neatly folded at the foot of the hospital bed, and she began to pull them on. In her wild rage, modesty wasn't the trait at the forefront of her mind; thankfully Alphonse had predicted her actions and turned before he could see anything he would regret seeing later.

Ron tucked the bag of pills into a large loose pocket in the vest of her baggy clothes. As she pulled on her ratty shoes, she heard the plump nurse prattling away in the hall.

"Yes, she's just this way. I suppose she'll be happy to see such a charming young man as yourself," the nurse said happily before her joyful belly laugh and footsteps faded away. Ron's heartbeat accelerated as one set of footfalls came toward the hospital door; the sound was slow, almost hesitant. It only made her rage flare more violently, almost like an open flame in her chest.

Finally, after what could have been an eternity the man with the coal hair and charcoal eyes, Roy Mustang, peeked around the door frame. His face was creased in agony as if Ron's hard gaze was comparable to losing one of his appendages. He, in an unusually timid manner, stepped into the room, every step a lifetime long.

Alphonse placed a cool hand on Ron's shoulder, and that was the only thing that restrained her from flying at the man before her once again. Nevertheless, she ground her teeth together in an almost painful mesh as he approached.

"Ronni, let me explain," Roy said, keeping a safe distance from Ron who looked almost ready to spring. He swallowed a seemed at a loss for words. Ron's eyebrows lowered closer to her already narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry!" he ejaculated hastily, holding his hands defensively in front of him.

"For what, Roy?" Ron asked with her jaw tightly clenched. It surprised her how much more controlled she was now that Alphonse stood at her side.

"I only did what I did because I cared about you," he said, his eyes lingering on painful memories.

"Cared about me?!" Ron laughed darkly. "Did you care about me when I was beaten? Did you care about me when I was starving and homeless? Roy, if you really cared about me at all, you wouldn't have just abandoned me. The least you could have done is sent me a letter, anything to let me know that you were still alive and you just didn't want to see me anymore. Maybe then I could have moved on with my life and found a family, instead of trusting in your empty promises!"

"Ronni, there was never a time when I didn't want to see you. Not a day goes by that I don't see you in my mind, and regret everything I've done," he said, his voice pleading.

"Liar!" Ron shouted, covering her ears to his blasphemy. She futilely struggled from letting the fat tears come down her face. She looked up at him eyes blazing. "Just leave me alone, Roy. I don't need you in my life anymore, so butt out!"

She jogged past him, allowing for Al to follow her. She focused on his clanking stride, permitting the sound to numb her troubled thoughts. The hospital corridors were long and confusing, but Ron ran anyways, once more in the furious state where nothing mattered.

After what could very well have been hours of unsuccessful search, Ron found the hospital front doors. She stopped to catch her breath as she emerged into the chilling air. The cold breeze felt soothing on her still slightly swollen face. Al stood behind her, occasionally shifting from one foot to the other, metal hitting metal as he did so. Finally when her breath came back to her, she turned to look up at Alphonse, and expression closely resembling guilt on her face.

"Al," she said, looking back to the ground, focusing her eyes on her feet. "I'm sorry that you have to see that. It seems like I've only caused trouble for you since we met. Maybe…Maybe I should just leave you alone from now on." Ron couldn't tell if it was shame at her display in the hospital room or truth speaking in her words. All that she could tell was that every thought and feeling inside of her was jumbled and confused.

To her immediate surprise, he began to laugh. "Ron, that's what friends are for, as corny as it sounds. They're supposed to be there for you when you're at your lowest, and help you to pick yourself up again."

Tears pricked at the corner of Ron's face once more. She smiled at his explanation, and he put his hand on her shoulder. "So, we're really friends now?" He nodded, and her smile widened. "What a funny pair we are," she laughed, and continued in a more serious tone, "but, really, Al, you don't know how much this means to me. Thank you."

A few moments of silence passed between them, and in that space a black car pulled to the curb of the hospital, Private Fuller exiting the driver's side. He walked with the air of someone with a purpose. The soldier's distinguished march led him to Ron and Alphonse who could only stand dumbstruck at the entrance to the hospital.

Private Fuller gave a quick salute, looking in Ron's direction but seeming to see past her. The few hours had had no change on the tall man; he still had the same aura about him of someone who takes their job way too seriously, as with the first time Ron had met him.

"I have direct orders from the Fuhrer to escort Miss Chase to a special audience with the honorable King Bradley." Fuller held a rigid pose as if waiting for an answer.

Ron looked hesitantly between Alphonse, the Private, and back again, nervously chewing on her lip. On the one hand this might be the last time for God knew how long Ron would get to see Alphonse, and on the other hand…it was the Fuhrer. The shadow of his influence loomed over her like a cat would a defenseless mouse.

"Um…Al," she said, looking up at him eyes that entreated understanding, "I have to do something really quick, but I'll catch up with you later." The tone in her voice inferred that she held her statement as a solemn promise.

She looked forward, taking two quick strides toward Private Fuller before she allowed herself the chance to change her mid. "Let's go," Ron said curtly, barely glancing up to look at the soldier. She didn't dare turn back to see her friend, knowing that if she did she would surely lose her nerve. Only as the conservative, black car pulled away did she let her now sad gaze drift back to Alphonse. His pose seemed to be frozen in shock at how swiftly events had progressed.

Not far away from Central Hospital, the man with the black eye-patch and the false smile sat behind his expensive desk. The phone on the corner of the polished wood rang once. His eyes slowly drifted to the noisy machine as it rang a second time. On the third ring, the Fuhrer picked up the receiver and gently put it to her ear. "Hello?" he asked, in the tone he reserved for important calls that made their way to his desk.

"Well?" the voice on the other end asked impatiently.

"Everything is going smoothly," the Fuhrer replied, his cordial voice not skipping a beat.

"Is that all you have to say?! How close are you to finishing you part of the job? You know she won't be happy if-"

"I'm as close as I need to be," Bradley replied, cutting off the voice's stream of questions. "And I know that she won't be happy with your stunt last night. This is still my city, so I suggest you behave yourself. Do I need to tell you how she will punish you if you destroy this opportunity?"

The voice on the other end gave a low menacing hiss before going silent for several moments. When at last the voice spoke again it shook with rage. "How can you be so sure that your plan will work? She is much more resourceful than you give her credit for." The final tone of the statement oozed smugness.

"That, my friend, is where you are mistaken. You overestimate humanity. You forget that I sit in the highest position of power on this great continent, and I am the puppet master pulling all of the strings. Humans are no more than cattle; they cannot and it is not their wont to think for themselves, they only wish to be led to the slaughter. You were already given a chance to take care of this problem and you failed. I will not do the same." His last words rang out with a sense of finality as he hung up the phone without another thought.

The Fuhrer shuffled papers around on his desk as a polite knock came to the closed door of his office. "Yes?"

"A Miss Chase to see you, sir," his brunette receptionist said, a smile that hid countless secrets on her face.

"Let her in, please," he said. When she looked at him with a meaningful glance behind her green eyes, he gazed back calmly, purveying his meaning. "Thank you, Miss Douglas, that will be all," he had slipped back into his pleasant voice.

Ron swallowed the lump in her throat as she slowly stepped into the room. She had spent the last ten minutes being screened by the eight soldiers that comprised the Fuhrer's personal guard. She had been made to turn her pockets out twice before finally being admitted to the sunny reception room that came before the Fuhrer's personal office.

"I've been expecting you, Miss Chase. Please, have a seat," the Fuhrer said, his countenance carefully arranged in a welcoming smile as he gestured to a couch that was positioned at angles with the desk. Ron did as she was bid, feeling herself become slightly light-headed as she got off her feet. "I'm very pleased to hear that you've accepted my proposal. I've called you here to discuss the details of our arrangement."

"Details? I thought you said that there wasn't any catch to this," Ron replied, her voice wary. She wasn't about to be duped if she had any say in the matter.

"You look as if I'm asking you to commit a murder," he chuckled. "No, the details are of no great circumstance. I meant what I said when I told you that my proposal was only in your best interest."

"So, what do we need to talk about?" Ron inquired, more at ease but still keeping her tone closely guarded. There was just something about this man that she didn't take at face value, and that filled her with disquiet.

"Living arrangements, command arrangements; just as I said, nothing of consequence," the Fuhrer said, waving a hand nonchalantly. "I've already taken the liberty of sorting out your dormitory. You will be staying in the east win, and after our discussion has concluded, I'll have someone escort you there."

"Th-thank you," Ron said, marveling at how the powers that be had rewarded her.

"Now, as the alchemy exam is mere months away, I'd like you to get the proper training and instruction necessary. The only way that I see that this can be accomplished is if you are put under the charge of a state alchemist who ongoing task will be to help you prepare. Many of our alchemists are field agents, so I don't expect that you will spend much time here in Central. When you do chance to be here, you will be allowed a limited access to the books in the Central Library. Also, I thought that you would be please to know that a government stipend will be allowed to you for any other materials you may require," the Fuhrer said all of this in a very businesslike manner, never shifting his gaze from Ron's face.

"Seriously, all of that just for me!?" Ron resisted letting her jaw drop in awe.

"Why of course, but do not think that this give you the freedom to do as you please. I expect that you will follow the orders of the alchemist under who charge you are placed. I also expect that you will follow any orders given to you by their own commanding officer." The Fuhrer had adopted a stern tone, gazing down at Ron with an expression befitting that of a parent who was giving warning to a child known for being naughty.

Ron nodded quickly, expecting the man to rescind his offer if she was too slow.

"Very good; now that that topic of discussion is out of the way, I think you can go see your new quarters. Miss Douglas will inform one of my guards to guide you there." He looked down to the papers on his desk, and Ron took it that she was being dismissed. She attempted to imitate Fuller's respectful salute before hastily exiting the lavishly decorated office.

Everything seemed to pass in a hazy blur as the brown haired secretary handed her a brass key, and a surly looking soldier led her to the east wing. The same soldier left her, not bothering to salute, as soon as they came to the proper door.

Ron nervously toyed with the key in her hand for several minutes before finally sliding it into the lock. She listened to the tumblers come open as the key turned in the key hold. With a final, heaving breath, Ron opened the door and walked into her new dormitory.

Her breath caught as she entered the sun filled front room. She could tell that the large square room was the main room; it encompassed a small kitchen, dining room, and sitting room. Ron drifted around touching everything she could to make sure it was real. A polished oak door lay off on the left wall, and as she let herself in she gazed at the tastefully furnished bedroom.

As she let herself relax on the large bed that was a thousand time more comfortable than the one at the hospital, she could help but feel as if this was all too good to be true. It made her just slightly uneasy.

Roy Mustang sat in the big chair that was his, behind the large, expensive desk that was also his, contemplating his own problems. It was half past five by the clock on the wall; everyone, even Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye, had already called it a day and headed home.

He had been sitting alone, the events of earlier that day still weighing on his mind. His face had newly spawned creases from worry and stress. He could only remember one time where his mind had been this burdened; right after he had returned to Central from Ishbal. His head sank into his hands just to think of it. At least then he had had a friend to confide in; someone to keep him sane, but now who was there? Could he trust Mayes Hughes with his encumbrance?

He ran over every word of the conversation of earlier in his head once more, trying to find something that would prove the whole ordeal a non-reality. He was unsuccessful, and it only heightened the looming danger ahead of the one person he considered his family.

Two hours and seven minutes ago the Fuhrer had come into his office for the second time in just a fortnight.

"Colonel Mustang, I'm glad to see you fast at work," he had said, a smile on his face as he spied the bare desk. "I came to talk to you have a matter of vital importance."

"Sir?" Roy had turned the greeting into a question, as he quickly stood at attention.

"As you were, Colonel," the Fuhrer said lightly. Mustang relaxed his salute, drifting to a more casual stance. "My issue pertains to the young lady whom Full Metal retrieved as to my prior orders."

"Yes, sir?" Roy kept his face in a calm mask as inside he roiled with a torrent of emotions: a protectiveness that hovered over his foster sister, suspicion about what the Fuhrer could be planning, and curiosity at what everyone wanted with Ronni all of a sudden.

"She will be taking part in the State Alchemist Certification Exam in May, therefore is in need of a mentor. I'd like her to accompany Full Metal on any task assigned to him as his student until such time that she be tested," King Bradley had explained himself so calmly and civilly that for a split second Mustang had been on the verge of complying without argument. Then rational and irrational thoughts had settled in.

"Sir," he flustered, struggling for words, "are you positive that Full Metal is experienced enough? Perhaps someone a bit older; I'd be more than happy to accept the charge."

"I was not requesting this of you, Mustang, I was ordering it. I believe that Mr. Elric has proven on more than one occasion that he is completely capable of handling such a task." The Fuhrer's expression had hardened as he locked his gaze with Roy's. It had sent a shudder down his spine.

"But-" Mustang had tried to reason, but was interrupted.

"No buts. I expect that you will inform both Full Metal and the young Miss Chase of their duties within twenty-four hours of the time you receive the necessary forms." With no more say save that, the Fuhrer had swiftly exited the office. It left Mustang in awe that the Fuhrer himself would come to deliver that message instead of sending someone else.

Roy gave a heaving sign, finished reliving his memory. It all made him very tired.