Chapter Six

A moment of shocked silence followed Mustang's collapse. The pleasant warm weight of him was countered sharply by the blood and rising panic.

"Dammit," Hawkeye breathed, sliding on her knees beside them and resting a hand on Roy's shoulder. "Sir, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," was the reply, muffled by Ed's shirt. "Just give me a minute."

"We need to get him to the hospital," Hawkeye said grimly looking at the gouges in Roy's back. "Edward, are you hurt?"

Numbly, he shook his head as he too stared at the bloody mess as best he could with Roy's head blocking his view.

"Good, help me get him to the car."

"I can walk," Roy grunted sounding irritated as he pushed himself off Edward. "And I seriously doubt I need a hosp-"

Hawkeye completely ignored the words coming out of his mouth and lifted an arm, wedging her shoulder under him and drawing a squawk of protest. Ed, following her lead, scrambled under the other arm.

Despite his talk earlier, they carried most of Roy's weight and he didn't complain once – his jaw was clenched so tightly Ed doubted he could get a word out had he wanted to. Huffing and puffing (bastard was heavier than he looked) they finally got him to the car, where he proceeded to have another fit when they tried to get him to lay down in the back.

"I'm not arguing about going to the hospital, but I will not be laid out like a few cuts have reduced me to an invalid," he snarled.

Hawkeye looked like she was about to "persuade" him with the help of her gun, but before that could happen Ed tugged open the passenger side door and aimed Roy toward it. He would've felt the same way if he'd been in Roy's shoes. The more time they argued over it meant the more blood the man was losing, as well. So if the bastard wanted to ride shotgun, so be it.

Hawkeye, looking surly over losing the seating battle, hurried around the car and slid in the driver's seat.

"Let's go," she said, giving an impatient wave at the still stationary Ed through the open window.

But Ed shook his head again, feeling far away and detached.

"He can't. There are too many dangerous notes here to leave. They need to be guarded or destroyed," Roy said before Ed could get the words out of his tight throat. Dark eyes locked on his – serious but soft. "I'll be back after I get stitched up. Don't make that face, Fullmetal. This happened because of my decisions, not yours."

Ed could see the muscle in Hawkeye's jaw tick as she clenched her teeth together, obviously wanting to say something but refraining. Instead she gave Ed a curt nod before pulling off in a spray of gravel.

Edward wasn't sure how long he stood there staring off where the car disappeared, but by the time he found the will and energy to move Mustang's blood was crusted on his shirt.

It took a while to gather all of the papers - he hadn't realized how messy they'd been. Roy had been taking some of the dead ends home each night to burn in the fireplace, but there were still a lot left.

"Pyromaniac," he whispered to himself, feeling a burning behind his eyes.

Was he going to be okay? He was, right? There had been a lot of blood but he was awake and talking and it didn't look like the injuries were deep enough to hit anything vital… But what did he know, he wasn't a doctor.

Sitting on the floor he ran scenario after scenario through his head as he methodically smudged out all of the work they'd done. After he was done with the papers he took an old rag to the walls, leaving a big smeary canvas of nothing behind. And when all that was done and his mind had worked through a hundred different possibilities, there was once conclusion that he came to again and again.

He had to leave.

"He's going to leave."

"He's going to try," Roy said, signing the hospital release papers.

His back felt stiff and sore but not that bad considering the amount of stitches he'd collected. Shoving the pages at the bored looking nurse, he strode quickly for the door, Riza on his heels.

"How long have we been here?"

"About two hours, sir."

He silently snarled. Despite logic telling him it was necessary to come here he wished he hadn't. It stupidly hadn't occurred to him until more than halfway through his stiches that Edward would leave. He knew he'd feel unneeded guilt and blame himself but he didn't think of the leaving part until far too late. He wondered if Riza had known all along and just not said anything until now…

Again, it was a freak accident, nothing they could've planned for or expected, but he knew in Edward's mind that would only make it worse. It was odd that Ed's blood could trigger an array though… But as the son of a living, breathing philosopher's stone, he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised.

The ride back out to the house was silent. The sun had set and when they pulled up there was no sign of light from inside - but Roy didn't need the light to know that the house was empty. It was old and run down, but when Edward had been there it had also held a kind of warmth. That was gone now.

Without a word he got out of the car and went inside. The work on the walls were nothing but dark smears now and all of the pages they'd worked on were the same – piled on the table in neat blackened stacks.

Roy picked the piles up and headed back to the car. Riza again didn't say anything until they were almost back to his house.

"I could send out a patrol to look for him," she said. "Unless he caught a ride with someone he couldn't have gotten too far. And we could send someone to the train station, see which way he was headed if he left that way."

He shook his head slowly, trying to shake of the anger and self-pity he was stewing in and plot his next steps.

"I don't want to track him down like he's some criminal. He's a grown man – he can go where he wants, when he wants."

"What happened to 'he's going to try' when I said he was leaving? Giving up before you even started?"

Roy looked at her sharply. "Why the sudden concern? We both know you didn't want him here."

"That's not true," she said, not looking angry at the accusation at all. "I admit I was worried about your safety and the safety of the people in the city after you told me what was happening with him. But Edward himself, I wanted here very much. For you."

Roy turned his eyes away and focused instead on their approach to his house, refusing to give that a response.

"So, you're just going to let him go?"

"I don't have a choice. We've been working at this for days and haven't made any progress. I can't help in any way, and in his eyes I'm only a liability."

He was out of the car as soon as it stopped, praying she wouldn't follow to poke at his wounds some more because he might end up saying something he'd regret. But there was no slamming of the driver's side door and after a moment of idling the car pulled off slowly, much to his relief.

Flicking on the lights, he found himself wandering into the dining room where the large bloodstain was still on his carpet. He pulled out a chair and practically fell into it, wincing as his wounds pulled, and let the smeared pages scatter across the table.

He spread them out in front of him, looking for any hints or clues, but Edward had been thorough in his destruction. He was sure he could recreate the original array from memory, but he wasn't so sure that he'd be able to avoid all rehashing all the dead ends they'd already discarded.

Rising from the table, Roy went to retrieve a pencil and some more paper. He'd work on this on his own while Edward was off doing who knew what. Edward wouldn't consider coming back unless there was some kind of promise of safety or forward progress. Hopefully he could come up with an answer, a cure, or even a hint that there was a future for him.

For them, part of him whispered.

And hopefully he wouldn't be too late…

Roy had been taking advantage of his medical leave by spending time in the library. He'd jokingly suggested that maybe he should've gotten hurt earlier if that was all it took to get the Parliament from constantly demanding his presence at those pedantic meetings.

Riza hadn't been amused.

Picking through every part of the array wasn't turning out to be a fun task. Many of the symbols and methods Ed had incorporated were from different schools of alchemic thought – most of which Roy had no knowledge of. He'd taken Edward on his word on their meanings and particular jobs within the array but had decided that he should go back and learn the pieces for himself. Maybe a fresh set of eyes would pick out where things turned so far off course.

It was on the fourth day that he found a glaring problem.

He was going through some of his own books when he came across a small collection Al had sent him a while back of different alkahestery books the boys had received from Ling as a thank you. Al had said Ling had gone a little overboard and they'd received some books that were basically duplicates with different covers and he thought Roy might like them. Apparently Ed had devoured them all within a month and didn't care if Al sent them to "the bastard".

Even though they'd looked fascinating, Roy hadn't had time to do more than flip through them until now. It near the bottom of the pile that he found the symbol for energy that Ed had used multiple times in his array.

Except the base line was nothing more than a piece of eraser shaving stuck to the page.

Roy stared at it agog for the moment. Unable to believe that A) Edward had missed that – he must've been awake for days when he was reading this book B) that the array had worked at all and hadn't just blown up in his face when he'd activated it and C) that he may have actually found the answer.

He stood so fast that his chair toppled backwards. There were other directional symbols in the array that also sent it looking for energy, but this one must mean something different – something that could explain just what the hell was going on.

It took him another full day to find what he was looking for. Riza had come, threatened, and gone leaving him buried in books with reluctant sigh – but his sleeplessness was worth it, since he was now staring at the answer. He had to be sure though. He couldn't go to Edward with a half formed theory – Ed would pick that apart immediately and still be on his suicidal path. Roy hoped he wasn't taking too much time and Ed hadn't already found the end of that road – he was hoping that he was researching on his own somewhere outside the city and that only another accidental release of the Gate could trigger his surrender.

But for now, to get the answer he needed, he needed to get to Palyo.

Riza knew immediately from the look on Roy's face and the purposeful way he was walking that he'd found something. She wasn't sure whether to be grateful for that or not. He'd been like a man possessed since Edward left. Possessed by Edward's own unhealthy work habits, in fact. Nonstop searching through piles and piles of books at the library, his own collection and that of the Armstrong family, he'd barely taken time to eat or sleep. Now, instead of looking worn down and discouraged, there was determination in every line of his body and his eyes were brighter.

"I need to go to Aerugo," he said without preamble after sliding into the car.

After nothing more than a blink of surprise, she nodded. "I can be ready within the hour. We can-"

"No, I need you to find Edward while I'm there."

"He's two hours outside of the city in a former Ishbalan refugee camp," she said without pause, starting the car.

Now it was Roy's turn to blink in surprise.

"I thought I told you not to track him down?"

"You did," she said. "But I did it anyway. Don't worry, I was discreet – it wasn't implied at all that he was a criminal or had done anything wrong."

Roy gave her a slightly disgruntled look for disobeying but added reluctant nod of appreciation.

"Well, that certainly makes this a little easier. In that case I need you to go there and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Like get hurt and work nonstop?" She asked sardonically.

"Like hand himself over to that damned Gate."

"You've found something that can stop it?"

"Possibly, that's why I'm going to Palyo – I have to be sure before I take this to Edward."

"You can't go alone, sir. Relations are good but-"

"I'll be low key."

"Take Armstrong."

"That's the opposite of 'low key'," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"On the contrary, with Armstrong beside you, you can be sure you won't be the first one they look at," she said with a smirk.

Thunder clapped overhead, making Roy huddle down further in his coat as they rushed to the nearest source of shelter from the train station. Armstrong seemed completely unbothered by the rain, as if his muscles made him water resistant – maybe that was an Armstrong family trait. Luckily the man's bulk was blocking a good deal of the sideways blowing rain.

The inside of the diner was such a relief after the torrent outside that Roy just stood there dripping and enjoying the dry stillness for a moment. He thought Edward had said Aerugo was nice?

"Something I can help you boys with?"

The woman had a kind face, but her eyes were suspicious. Roy couldn't blame her – despite their being in civilian clothes they both still had the bearing of military. Particularly Armstrong, whose body seemed to not know how to stand any way except at attention.

"You can give each of us a plate of whatever that is that smells so delicious," Roy said, pushing the charm as he ruefully ruffled his hair, sending a scatter of water droplets to the floor. "And maybe an extra pile of napkins would be in order."

Eyes drifting off of Armstrong's giant physique, the woman relaxed a little as she looked Roy up and down as he dripped on the welcome rug.

"I think I can do better than that, sugar. I'll grab you boys a couple towels. We always keep some on hand this time of year," she said, voice drifting as she went in the back. "Storms can pop up mighty fast in this corner of the world."

She returned moments later with a couple towels (Armstrong made his look like a tea towel, which both Roy and the waitress grinned covertly about) and they spent a minute fruitlessly trying to dry off before heading to a booth.

"And that you're smelling is my berry cobbler. We serve it warm with a side of ice cream if you're interested."

"That sounds as glorious as it smells," Armstrong boomed, his voice seemingly twice as loud in the empty diner than it usually was. "Could I get a cup of coffee as well, if it isn't too much trouble?"

His impeccable manners softened the imposing effect of his size and volume and the woman relaxed a little more. Roy seconded a cup of coffee and she left them for the counter.

"How would like to handle this?" Armstrong asked, voice quieter than most would think him capable of.

"I need to ask these people about Edward and what happened here that night."

"And what do you presume their reactions will be like?"

"I'm not sure…" Roy said hesitantly. "According to Edward they looked at him like he was some kind of monster before he left, so they might not be too receptive to us bringing him up."

Armstrong nodded seriously, body drawing up a little tighter.

"Relax, Major General," Roy said sternly. "If you project wariness we'll only get the same in return."

Armstrong nodded, but still looked uncomfortable. "If you'll forgive me for saying so, I'm worried this could end up being an incident, sir. This woman may not have recognized you, but it's unlikely we'll get so lucky as we continue our quest. It would have been best to send-"

"I couldn't send anyone without alchemical knowledge. You're the only one that fits that description that I trust enough with the details of what's going on, besides the Elrics themselves, that is. And I wasn't sending you alone."

"Sir…"

Roy didn't dare look at him – he knew the eye would be brimming and he'd practically be shooting off sparkles of love and admiration. Luckily the cobbler showed up before Armstrong could toss the table aside and hug him while sobbing about trust and duty and not letting him down.

The waitress hovered, giving them more than ample time to question her about Edward, but the cobbler was so delicious that neither could bring themselves to bring up a topic that might get them kicked out before they were finished.

"That, ma'am, was the finest dessert I've ever tasted," Armstrong said, sounding awed and a little weepy about it.

The woman looked surprised at his heartfelt declaration but then broke out into a pleased smile.

"Well, aren't you sweet! That was my grandmother's recipe, actually. I'm pretty proud of it but can't really take the credit."

"You should. She may have come up with the recipe but you've kept it alive and done it justice," Roy said, setting down his napkin and reaching into his coat pocket.

He put down enough that he was sure it was near double what their cobbler and coffee had cost and then sat a picture of Edward on top of it.

Her demeanor instantly changed – eyes locked on the picture, body going stiff and still, face paling.

Not the reaction I was hoping for, Roy thought warily, though not sure what exactly he had been hoping for.

"You know this man?" Armstrong asked.

The waitress slowly backed away from the table, a shaking hand going over her mouth as she went behind the counter. Armstrong's brow furrowed and he glanced at Roy with worried eyes. An adverse reaction to his questioning had been expected, from what Edward had told him, but what wasn't expected was the shotgun the waitress pulled out from under the counter and pointed at them.