Felis Arcanum

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters therein.


4: Recovery

Edward didn't move. He stayed huddled up at Mustang's side for hours. He was unaware of the nurses checking on the patient. He was unaware when Fuery was relieved by Breda. He remained completely locked away inside himself. Even when Mustang's hand rested on his back.

Al had gone. Somehow someone had taken him and he was absolutely powerless. He could do nothing. Edward had never been this lost before. Al had always been there. He had always known where Al was. If only he could have been with him, instead of stuck in here. Maybe, maybe he could've stopped whatever had happened.

He resented Mustang for needing him. He felt guilty for choosing to stay here and for not trying harder to get to Al earlier. The same questions rolled through him and kept him paralyzed. Who and why. Why take Al? Who had done it?

It wasn't fair. Al had been everything to him. It was all his fault. My fault, he whimpered. My fault for putting him in the armour, my fault Al died and my fault Al isn't here. And I'm stuck like this with no way of doing anything at all.

He ignored the noises around him, burrowing deeper into the blankets. He didn't even know why he was still alive when the one person who had deserved to survive, the one person who should have lived, hadn't. Equivalence didn't exist. It was all lies.

The hand at his back twitched and fingers ran through his fur. Ed hissed, resenting being distracted from his thoughts as his back arched automatically. He pushed himself deeper into Mustang's side and tried to curl up tighter.

"Little one."


Al looked at the young man opposite him. He couldn't stop staring. It was uncanny just exactly how like each other they looked. Hair length and eye colour were the only differences. Al's hair was shorter and the other's eyes were blue.

"This is Alfons Heiderich, Al." Hohenheim had said after Alfons had entered the kitchen. "He's one of the students I mentioned. Alfons, this is my youngest son, Al."

They had barely heard him as they had just stared. The longer they looked the more they noticed the more subtler differences. Alfons looked to be in his early twenties and Al was only fifteen. Alfons had a slightly thinner face and his fingers were longer. Al could see exactly how he was going to look when he grew up. Al had been surprised to find himself restored to his body, not as a ten year old, but one of his actual chronological age. And tall. He was taller than his brother now and he had wanted nothing more than to be able to tease Ed about it.

Hohenheim pulled the small shards from Al's hand with the tweezers as the two just sat there. He had seen the resemblance when he had first met Alfons and it had taken him a while to get used to it. He couldn't begin to imagine what it must be like for Al to be faced with his doppelganger. He was still hoping he wouldn't meet himself here.

"You look so much like me," Al said wonder in his voice.

"It is indeed quite remarkable," Alfons said. He was older, he wasn't going to show just how intriguing he found it.

"You can sit in on some of the lessons if you want, Al. It'll give you something to occupy yourself with," Hohenheim remarked as he dabbed antiseptic onto the small cuts.

Alfons stared. "Is that wise, Professor? I mean…"

"Al is very smart for his age, Alfons."

Al thought about it. Having something to study would help. He didn't want to just sit around here all day. And if he really was stuck here, then he needed to learn everything he could about this new world.


Mustang remained in a semi-conscious state for the rest of the day. The pain medication was rigidly controlled and often he would become restless before it was due. His head would roll from side to side and they changed his pillows so as to restrict the movement. They did not want the healing of his eye injuries to be jeopardised by rough movements.

His single eye would occasionally clear but most of the time it was hazy and they weren't sure how much he was seeing through it. He spoke little and his words were slow in coming as if it hurt to talk. Breda had the afternoon shift and sat beside him, keeping a companionable silence. They had agreed that until Hawkeye appeared and they were all together, they wouldn't tell him anything.

Edward stayed curled up at Mustang's side. He was still upset at his inability to do anything and distraught at the loss of his brother. He trembled occasionally and found a sense of satisfaction to be had in feeling so miserable. Mustang's improvement was good, he decided. They would talk to him and he would be able to hear what was happening. Finally, he would know. Because not knowing was driving him crazy. Because the guilt and blame told him he should have known, he should have been able to protect his brother no matter what else had happened.

When the door opened and two military personnel appeared Breda took one look and immediately stood up and saluted. The stern faced General ignored him and strode to stand by the bed where he looked down on Mustang. The blonde Lieutenant who stood just behind allowed no emotion or recognition to cross her face.

"I see you were indeed telling the truth this time, Lieutenant." The General's harsh voice broke the silence of the room. Breda blinked and kept his face blank as he saw Hawkeye's back stiffen slightly.

Edward pricked his ears up at the rough voice and opened his eye slightly. He recognised General Hakuro and his nose wrinkled. The man looked more forbidding than ever. Lines were etched deeply down his face and a permanent frown appeared to be carved into his forehead.

With Mustang's hand on his back and half buried in the blankets he was barely visible and he listened without any real interest. Military politics had rarely been a part of his life and he had never had the patience or the need to ever find out why such things were. He had only objected when it had interfered with his goal of restoring his brother.

"How long will he be in this condition?" General Hakuro's voice was loud and Ed's ears flicked at the hard edges.

"The doctors believe it will be another week before they can release him into a general ward, Sir." Hawkeye said in the most careful tone Ed had ever heard her use and his eye widened. "After that, they are unsure as to how long his recovery will take."

General Hakuro frowned. "Has he said anything at all about the whereabouts of Fuhrer Bradley?"

"No Sir."

Edward twitched. He didn't like the sound of Hawkeye's voice. She should never sound so subservient to anyone. His paws dug into the blankets and he stretched slightly.

"Hmmm, he is useless to me now," Hakuro said in a cold voice.

Ed lifted his head and stared hard at the General. He saw Hawkeye flinch and Breda stiffen. He felt Mustang's fingers twitch on his back. With a deliberate slow movement he rose up slightly and placed his forepaws out in front of him, arching his back up.

"What is a cat doing in here?" The General asked.

"Being useful." Ed miaowed at him and tilted his head on one side as the tip of his tail twitched. Come closer so I can scratch you he thought as he watched Hakuro.

"It is the Brigadier-General's cat, Sir," Breda replied in a clear voice.

"Hmmph. A one-eyed cat for a one-eyed soldier," Hakuro remarked and then continued. "Tell Mustang when he wakes up, that I no longer require his services and that a suitable place will be found for him, should he continue in the military."

Ed's eye narrowed and he saw the other two hold themselves still. Mustang's fingers twitched again and Edward flicked his tail to cover the movement.

"Yes Sir," Breda said woodenly.

General Hakuro turned and his hand went past Ed who reacted as any cat would when presented with an object moving past its face. He struck out with his claws and snagged them in the General's fingers. The General swore and Edward hissed. The General lifted his hand and Ed rose up with it. He twisted slightly and tried to retract his claws but the General shook his hand and Ed instinctively tightened his grip.

"Hold still, Sir," Hawkeye said and tried to reach around to grab the cat. But Hakuro moved, shaking his hand violently and Ed lost his grip and was tossed to one side. He tried to twist in mid-air but the bed rail was in the way and he struck it sideways. He heard his ribs crack and he slipped down to the floor. It hurt to breathe and he hissed as he tried to move and felt the sharp stabbing pain in his side.

Breda knelt beside him and Hawkeye was leading Hakuro from the room, calling for a nurse as she went through the door. Ed closed his eye briefly and growled as someone lightly touched his side. His eye opened and he stared at Breda before stretching out a paw and trying to drag himself under the bed. He wanted to get away from here. He needed to find a place to hide and hole up to tend to his injuries.

Breda reached out and Edward struck with a hiss. Instinct demanded he find a safe place. He dragged himself a bit further under the bed. Breathing was hard and he could hear it rasping in his ears. He had had cracked ribs before. He just wanted to get away and lie still and let them heal. Damn it was hard to crawl like this he thought. He took a careful breath and felt them burn.

When the blanket was laid over him he hissed and growled but he couldn't move, it hurt too much and he whimpered as they lifted him up. They placed him on the bed and he saw Breda and a nurse looking at him.

"I think he broke his ribs," Breda said and Ed saw the round face was pale.

The nurse prodded Ed's side carefully and he hissed and tried to move away.

"I think you're right and we're not an animal hospital, but I think we could strap them for him and I'll see if I can get a veterinarian to call."

Ed listened to them and miaowed. Instinct was warring with his human sensibilities. He knew that they could help him but he still wanted to hide away somewhere.

"Little one." Mustang's voice was weak and Breda shifted Edward up the bed where Mustang's fingers could just rest on the cat's head.

"He's ok, Sir. Just a cracked rib or two," Breda said soothingly and Edward rolled his eye even as his head rubbed against Mustang's fingers.

"Not useless," Mustang said slurring slightly before his eye closed and Ed miaowed in agreement.


The young blond boy with hazel eyes looked around as he walked down the wide boulevard. He found the signs that directed him towards Central's train station and he slipped easily through the bustling crowds of shoppers and pedestrians.

He stood for awhile watching the people boarding and disembarking before he moved. In a smooth manouevre he swung himself up between two cars and over the other side before anyone saw him. He slipped into the baggage car and secreted himself away into a darkened corner.

He smiled when the train began to move.


Alfons Heiderich was surprised by the knowledge young Al had. He had been skeptical when the Professor had suggested it but after ten minutes when Al had answered a question that he, himself had not known he had begun to change his mind.

They had spoken and talked about the text book for a while and Alfons had been forced to admit that when it came to chemistry, Al knew a lot more than he did. His knowledge of mathematics was equally impressive. He knew some biology and basic physics but the arts and social sciences were a closed book. Alfons decided to teach Al physics.

Hohenheim watched as the two sat at the table and began to talk. He stood up and went to his study. They wouldn't miss him for awhile. He sat at his desk and sighed.

Al wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to Edward. Hohenheim had spent a lot of time seeking a way back, but alchemy just didn't work this side of the Gate and given the way the Gate operated he doubted it could be opened from this side. His eye caught on the opened envelope sitting to one side on his desk. He pursed his lips.

There were some doors that should never be opened he thought. And some letters too.


Edward was awake when Hawkeye finally returned with Havoc and Fuery. They had strapped his ribs and he was unable to move. Breathing hurt and he knew it would be like this for a few weeks at least. Mustang's fingers stayed near his head and he would occasionally rub his head against them. He needed to know he was not alone here because it really felt like it at times.

Breda stood up as they entered and they all looked at the Brigadier-General. His eye was open and he stared blearily at them. Hawkeye moved closer.

"Roy?" She queried gently and he blinked at her as his lips parted and he managed a croaked "Yes."

She sighed in relief and smiled before she straightened her face back into its usual stern features.

"General Hakuro has begun to make his move on Military Command, but there are a few who don't want him there and there are also rumours of a civilian Parliament taking control. Given the numbers, if the anti-Hakuro party and the ones wanting a Parliament combine, then Hakuro just might be out-numbered. I'm not sure if he would resort to open fighting, but it might come to that."

Edward felt Mustang's fingers tense and shifted slightly to press against them. The single eye blinked. "More."

"The troops in the North have been recalled and most are being sent back to their respective garrisons, but several units are apparently on their way to Headquarters. I have called back Major Armstrong and Falman and they should be here in two days. They're following the other units to see exactly where they do go."

"Edward?" Mustang asked. Ed batted his head against Mustang's fingers.

"There's no sign of him, Sir. Fuery went back with the young woman, Rose her name is, and there was no trace of him. She said Edward got her out of there and then went back in."

"Al…phonse?" He asked, his voice breaking. Edward could feel his fingers trembling and knew Mustang was really pushing himself now.

There was silence. Mustang's crew looked at each other and then at the floor.

Ed hissed at their silence and growled. "Tell him about my brother." It hurt to growl so he ended on a whimper but his noise seemed to break their indecision.

"Alphonse's body has disappeared," Hawkeye said and looked uncomfortable.

Edward sensed it first. Mustang's fingers went rigid against his ears and Ed tried to rise up. He hissed urgently as his ribs burned and he struggled to push himself closer to Mustang.

"Don't you dare do anything stupid, you bastard!" He hissed and bit gently at Mustang's hand.

Hawkeye watched as Mustang's eye went wide and his face paled alarmingly. The cat's hissing drew her attention to his unnatural stillness and she ran to the door for a doctor. Havoc went to one side of the bed and began calling Mustang's name. Breda and Fuery watched with wide eyes as the little cat bit Mustang and the dark eye blinked and his breath began to wheeze out in loud gasps.

Edward closed his eye and let go and slumped down. Damn his ribs hurt. He didn't have the strength to move and he had to take very shallow breaths. "You are stupid, Mustang. So damned stupid." He whimpered between the tremors of agony from his ribs.

The doctor and nurses came rushing in and began examining the Brigadier-General.

"What happened?" The doctor asked.

"We told him some bad news," Havoc said laconically.

"He seemed to stop breathing and tensed up completely," Hawkeye said.

The doctor nodded. "Bad news indeed. Well, he doesn't seem to reopened his wounds and he's breathing normally now."

"We had to tell him, Doc. He asked and we couldn't keep it from him," Breda said.

"Now he knows we don't have to be as careful as we have been, but I would advise against discussing it too much. Now he's awake he needs to be kept mentally stimulated otherwise he could slip into a depressive state because he can't do anything strenuous yet. Try and keep him interested in things, preferably nothing too serious. When he wants to discuss those matters, try and keep it simple and do not put any stress on it. We can set up a holder for books and newspapers because he'll have to adjust to his new visual perception. Hopefully they will distract him further."

"That cat brought him back," Breda remarked and Fuery nodded. They looked at the little cat. He was trembling as he lay there and they could see the effort he was making to breathe.

"We'll get someone to look at him," the doctor promised.

"You have that cat on the brain, Breda," Havoc said and they started to lightly argue between themselves.

"I do not, Havoc," Breda protested. "Besides, after striking out with all the nurses, you're just hoping the vet is female."

Hawkeye ignored them and went over to Mustang. She looked at him and he blinked at her.

"We're doing all we can to find him, Roy," she said softly. "We will find him."

Both Mustang and Edward twitched at her words. The cat miaowed at the same time as Mustang mumbled.

"Promise?"

"Promise," she replied.


A week after they first met, Alfons showed Al the plans he had for a propulsion system that could launch an attached rocket into the upper atmosphere. With enough power he was fairly certain it could carry people higher than was possible with the current dirigibles and aeroplanes.

The two of them began to work over the calculations every evening. After two weeks, Hohenheim threw his hands up in the air and told Alfons to just move in with them. After all he was spending every other night sleeping on their couch, it seemed only right he should have the spare bed.

Al went with Alfons to the large University library and began to spend hours in there while Alfons attended his lectures. Alfons would log the books out for him and he marveled at the young teen's eclectic interests. From the physics to the arcane and some human biology as well.

Hohenheim frowned when he saw some of the more esoteric works but said nothing and when Alfons entered the study soon afterwards, he found the Professor staring blackly at an opened envelope.


The train headed south for two days before the hazel eyed blond got off the train in the same unnoticed way he got on. He disappeared into the crowd.


Mustang slowly gained some coherency and insisted they read him the newspaper. Every morning Hawkeye would come in and give her report. Things were not going well for Hakuro. The two other parties had united and he had found himself out-numbered. The troops he had been hoping to use, suddenly found their weapons irreparably disabled. They did not see any connection between that event and the large Major who had passed their armoury earlier that evening.

The anticipated violence did not eventuate and Hakuro was taken into protective custody and was apparently being questioned by several of the more neutral generals.

"They think it'll be over with by week's end," Hawkeye said on the third day. "The neutrals are willing to align themselves and the military with the new Parliament, provided they are left in nominal command."

"Stupid," Mustang said slowly. "They'll be replaced later."

"They'll probably be coming here to question you as well," Hawkeye warned. "You were known to have supported Hakuro."

"Didn't want Hakuro to become Fuhrer," Mustang said and his fingers ran through the little cat's fur. It was hard to talk fluently yet. His mind had to keep stopping and waiting for his mouth to catch up. They said it was due to the eye injury and the shock it had caused to his brain. But they did keep reassuring him that it would pass. He just wanted to get better faster. This was annoying and it was humiliating to be reduced to this. He hated it.

Hawkeye sighed. This was the part she hated. This was when both Roy and the cat would look at her and she could see the hope in both their eyes.

"There's still no sign of Alphonse."

The cat whimpered and its head lowered and Mustang echoed her sigh.

"Winry Rockbell arrived and has been helping us. She brought a photo with her and we've been using it." Hawkeye looked at the floor. "We just can not figure out how anyone removed him from the mortuary. The attendant says there were no cars or trucks near the place all night. To get out he had to be carried and no-one remembers seeing anything like that either."

"Forbidden transmutations?"

"We've heard nothing and Jean's got some ears in the local authority. Nothing has been reported. Fuery wants to know if he can tap a few lines, mainly from the research facilities. I told him yes. I didn't think you'd object."

"Good." Mustang thought. "Check stations and depots."

"You think they'd take him away from Central?"

"Possible. If planning illegal, I would." Mustang said, skipping words as he did sometimes. A verbal shorthand that allowed him to feel less humiliated by the slowness of his speech.

"Yes, that's true. I'll get Armstrong to check them all. He copied the photo so he has a very good drawing to show."

Mustang smiled at that. Yes, Armstrong's famed drawing technique was always more effective when accompanied by the artist himself.

"We will find him, Roy," Hawkeye said.

"I know. Riza. I know," Roy replied and watched as she left.

His fingers tightened in the soft fur and the cat looked up at him with a small miaow.

"It's all we have left, little one. We have to believe," he said softly and slowly and the cat rubbed against his hand as it whimpered again.

Al and Alfons managed to blow up Hohenheim's kitchen.

"Too much ethanol perhaps?" Alfons remarked as he waved his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke and the smell away.

"Yes and maybe the nitric ratio needs recalibrating too," Al said as he did the same.

"Have you boys considered taking it outside?" Hohenheim stood in the blackened doorway.

"Maybe a bigger hypergolic tank and a better control for the valve."

"Do you think we should try three tanks?"

"Boys! Outside!" Hohenheim shouted at them.


The hazel eyes scanned the empty space in the middle of the overgrown jungle. Stones had weathered and fallen, Moss had encroached between the stones he walked over. It hadn't been that long since anyone had been here but the jungle had moved swiftly.

He stopped at the edge of the deep fissure that split the ground and looked at it speculatively. Blond hair lifted in the breeze and his head came up. He turned slowly and narrowed his eyes. He walked cautiously towards the undergrowth and paused.

He heard it again. There was someone there. Nearly silently he paced slowly around the trees, finding a thin path and stopped.

A boy was huddled there. Black hair and dark eyes. He looked no older than eleven. The dark violet eyes looked up and widened as they met those of hazel. Mismatched limbs pushed him back against the tree in fear. The blond smiled and spoke his first words.

"Hello Wrath."


Edward Elric hurt. It hurt to breath, it hurt to move, it hurt. And it itched. Beneath the strapping was an unbearable itch and it hurt too much to scratch at it. He tried to get Mustang to scratch at it but the stupid man only scratched at his ears.

"Will you just scratch my ribs already, bastard?" He miaowed but the hand just ran across his head and teased at his ears. Ed hissed even as his head arched back.

Mustang was reading the paper but he could only read for a short time before his head would begin to ache and he would have to leave it until the headache passed. They were talking of moving him to a different ward tomorrow now that he was definitely not going to die on them.

Mustang leant back into his pillows and sighed. He looked at the little cat. There was no-one else around now. They didn't need to watch over him any more and it had become lonely in here with just his thoughts. Except for the cat. It stayed like he stayed. Because they were both too injured to move. Too injured to be of use.

"Useless," Mustang muttered and saw the cat look at him and flick an ear. "We're not useless are we, little one?"

"You are, if you don't scratch that damned itch, bastard," Edward complained. The cat miaowed at him and shifted against his hand and Mustang smiled at it.

"We'll get better." Mustang told it.

"Not if I scratch your other eye out, Mustang. Scratch my damned ribs!" Edward complained louder. The cat pressed against his hand and almost growled and tried to drag itself along the bed slightly, moving upwards so the strapped ribs were closer to his hand.

Mustang frowned and the cat whimpered. "Come on bastard, scratch me!" Ed shifted slightly, trying to roll closer. Mustang lifted his hand and the cat hissed at him. When he lowered it lightly onto the strapping, the little cat arched up and purred. Mustang dragged his fingers across the strapping and the cat closed its eye and purred louder. It wriggled against his fingers. Mustang began to smile. He very carefully scratched at the strapping and the cat went boneless as the purr made his whole body shake.

Edward purred. That was just so good. It hurt but it was so damned good. He arched up to make Mustang press harder. That damned itch was still there but it was easing the longer Mustang kept scratching. Maybe he would keep him for a bit longer. As long as he kept doing that. He purred louder and melted into the blankets.

The door opened and Mustang stopped smiling and scratching as he saw the military uniforms enter. Edward was going to protest but he felt the weight of Mustang's hand and stayed quiet. He opened his eye and saw the bland faces of three strangers. He looked around. Why wasn't Hawkeye or any of the crew here?

"Brigadier-General Mustang. If we may have a moment of your time?"

"Of course, General," Mustang said in his slowed way and reached back to buzz for a nurse to bring some chairs in.

Edward stayed under Mustang's hand and watched as they questioned him. He could feel the man's frustration at times as his hand would tighten and the words wouldn't come out straight. Edward knew Mustang well enough to know when he was concealing things and outright lying. But they remained oblivious of that and Mustang tailored his answers to suit their preconceptions.

Yes, he had been at the Fuhrer's estate that night. Yes, there had been a fire. No, he couldn't remember how it had started. He shook and went dreadfully pale and Edward whimpered as Mustang suddenly gripped him tight.

"The boy. He killed the boy," He whispered and his eye was wide. Ed miaowed and Mustang blinked and loosened his grip.

"Sorry." He apologised to the Generals and he lightly scratched Edward's ribs in a silent apology before continuing.

Yes, he remembered Frank Archer shooting him but after that it was rather blurry and he vaguely remembered collapsing into the car. No, he had no idea General Hakuro had been intending to stage a coup. Yes, he had offered his support but only as one officer did to one's superior in the course of normal duties. Even had he been uninjured he would not have supported the General in a takeover attempt.

No, he had no intention of leaving the military at this stage although until he knew the full extent of his recovery, it was too early to be more definite. Yes, he had every intention of remaining in Central.

The words became harder and harder to get past his lips as his mouth went dry. Ed could feel his hand trembling and wondered what he could do to shorten this. Mustang wasn't fit to continue for much longer.

"And finally, Brigadier-General Mustang, what about the Elrics?"

Mustang tried to lick his lips as both he and the little cat went tense.

"I don't know where Major Elric went. He said he had discovered something that was detr...detrim... harmful for the military." Mustang paused and took a deep breath. "He said he would report back later." Mustang stumbled over the words and he began to shake.

"Sorry, so hard." And his eye became unfocused and his head rolled to one side. Edward miaowed and pushed himself against Mustang. He miaowed again, more urgently and looked at the Generals sitting there. He hissed at them and one of them finally stood up and went to the door to get a nurse.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, but he can't do anymore now," she said firmly as she pushed the buzzer for another nurse. Ed miaowed at her and she patted him absently. "It's okay little one, we'll get him settled."

"I think we've finished anyway, Nurse." One of them spoke calmly. "Tell him to take his time and we will keep in contact with him."

"Yes Sir." Ed miaowed at them and one of them smiled at him.

"I see the General has a staunch little defender."

"That he does, Sir. This little one is better than any doctor sometimes." She smiled as she spoke and they laughed when Ed hissed at her. He watched as they left and the nurses settled Mustang back against his pillows and left him sleeping.

"You bastard, Mustang. You used me again." Edward hissed and was not surprised when he heard the weak chuckle from the 'sleeping' man. Shaky fingers slid across his head and curled over his ribs.

"We did well, little one." He said as he let the exhaustion take him into real sleep.


Author's Note: And so it continues.

Time moves differently on the other side of the Gate. Al's plot line will always have more elapsed time than Edward's will.

Thank you so much for all the reviews and comments for this little one. I am truly grateful that you enjoy this.

silken :)