Title: Reverti Ad Praeteritum
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood/manga
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang, May Chang/Alphonse Elric, Gracia Hughes/Maes Hughes, post-Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Warnings: Spoilers like whoa, Ed's potty mouth, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, mute!Ed, original character death, angst, fluff, past dub-con, past adultery, Ed has all the guilt
Summary: Unwillingly forced to serve as a human trial for a crazy alchemist experimenting with time travel, Edward Elric finds himself standing across from Truth in the moment it takes his leg from him. Armed with the knowledge of what's to come and burdened with guilt for the choices he'd made as an adult, Ed sets out to fix every mistake he ever made and save every life they ever lost, no matter what it takes.

Key: "Speech" | 'Mouthing words'
'Writing'
:Sign Language:
"In another language" | 'In another language'

A/N: So, first appearance of my original State Alchemists. If you've read my stuff before, you'll recognise most of them, and there's a Google docs guide to them, which you can look through if you want to know more. (Warning: The guide's a bit rife with backstory spoilers, some of which you'll find out later in this story, or one of my others, some of which you won't.)
FFN readers, please check my profile for the link (assuming links are working; otherwise, the link is at the top of the anime/FMA masterlist on both LJ and tumblr).

If you asked a question in your review last chapter, sorry for the silence, but this is my week/weekend of moving, so I won't be able to respond to any reviews until Monday (the 4th). On the plus side, my update schedule shouldn't be interrupted, so there's that! :D

-0-
Chapter Ten
-0-

Working in Investigations was, well...different. It involved a lot more sitting behind a desk than Ed was used to, given he was mostly working on translating whatever got passed on to them from the battlefronts. They had translators out there, of course, but they were only used to deem if something was important or not, then translate the important documents, while the tedious stuff got sent back to Central.

Slogging through supply requests and notes home, Ed wondered why they bothered sending this stuff on to Central at all. But, then, he would be the first to admit that he didn't have the sort of military-oriented brain that made these useless requests, and it was entirely possible there was some way for Bradley or whoever to discover exactly where their next attack should be, based on the fact that the Cretan outpost just across the border and slightly north of Liberstadt needed a restocking of kidney beans.

Ed sort of hated his job.

:Save me,: he pleaded when Hughes unexpectedly poked his head into the office on Friday morning, not quite an hour after they'd got in. :I will clean out latrines in favour of this.:

"I'm fairly certain there's a rule against making State Alchemists clean out the toilets," Hughes returned good-naturedly, and one of the other translators snorted into his dictionary. (Things between him and the other translators were still in that new-hire tense phase, and Ed was in an almost constant state of resisting the urge to point out that he never needed to use a dictionary, unlike most of the other translators, only managing to keep it to himself because he didn't really want to deal with the inevitable fall-out. Also, it really was easier to resist being a jerk when he couldn't talk.) "But you're in luck! Brigadier General Grand is here to steal you away."

Ed raised an eyebrow at that, even as he stood, hooking his abandoned jacket with one finger. Why was Grand interested in him? For the healing arrays, he guessed, but he could have just as easily sketched those and passed them over whenever Grand happened to have a free minute to drop by Investigations, or even just sent them through interdepartmental post, assuming there wasn't some rule against sending arrays that way. (Ed wasn't really comfortable posting arrays, but that was more a secrecy issue than a fear that someone might accidentally set one off – as long as the envelope was secure, there should never be enough contact to do so, unless someone was snooping, in which case, they got what they deserved – and since the healing arrays were going to be military property, the secrecy wasn't as much of an issue. Sort of.)

"No use wondering," Hughes pointed out, motioning for Ed to follow after him.

Ed shrugged into his jacket and trailed after Hughes, absently freeing his ponytail from under the collar, before doing up the front; maybe he flaunted regulations a bit, with wearing his sash and leaving off the butt-cape, but he made a point to always have his jacket done up properly outside the cramped little translators' office.

Grand was indeed awaiting them in Hughes' office – not that Ed had doubted him – and nodded in response to Hughes' salute, before turning to Ed as he straightened from the bow that felt way more comfortable for him than saluting. "Edward Elric, the Silent Alchemist," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "The Führer informs me you have knowledge of healing alchemy."

Ed nodded and glanced towards Hughes. When he found the man looking at him, he signed, :I can draw the ones I know and he can take them back to the labs for them to dissect?:

Hughes cleared his throat. "Major Elric says he's willing to draw what arrays he knows and you can pass them on to the labs."

Grand looked between them for a moment, his expression completely flat, but a thread of what might have been irritation curling around the edges of his otherwise stiff qi. "While that may be to our preference, the Führer would prefer to have you set up with a workspace in whichever lab best suits your strengths, whatever they might be."

:A lab?: Ed asked, shaking his head. :I don't have a use for a lab.:

"Major Elric doesn't believe he'll find a use for any laboratory space," Hughes translated.

"Everyone has use for laboratory space, Silent," Grand informed him.

Ed crossed his arms over his chest and shot the brigadier general a flat look, because he'd never once heard of Mustang using a lab, and one had never been offered to Ed before, either in East City or after his command had been transferred to Central. No, he would bet this was an attempt by Bradley to keep better tabs on him, or maybe figure out a bit more about his skills. Right now, all the homunculi knew was that he was smart enough to breeze through the written exam and what they'd seen during the practical, which really wasn't much better than saying, 'We've performed human transmutation, read a lot (or had an excellent teacher), and know healing alchemy'.

Well, hadn't Grand said it himself? 'Whatever his strengths might be'.

Grand's moustache twitched. "Führer Bradley wants you in a laboratory one day a week, Silent," he said, which was far closer to the truth than Ed had honestly expected him to offer.

Instead of trusting Hughes not to clean up his response, Ed stepped over to the man's desk and grabbed a pen and some of the blank paper he kept to copy over what he was decoding, then wrote, 'Bradley wants to know how he can use me,' and showed it to the general.

"Ed," Hughes murmured in warning.

Right. He needed to keep his head about him so Bradley didn't start aiming at the Hugheses, because he wasn't the one standing in the queue for the executioner's block.

"You're not stupid, Silent," Grand said, his eyes far too sharp as they watched Ed.

He couldn't tell if that was a compliment or a warning, but Ed took it as the latter and took a slow breath as he turned back to Hughes' desk, let it calm him down before he wrote, 'Lab space would be appreciated sir. But I'm not familiar with the military's current alchemical research'

Grand's mouth turned down ever so slightly. "You haven't taken the time to visit the labs?"

Well, there was no way he was explaining he knew just enough about them to know he'd rather avoid them.

Hughes cleared his throat. "Colonel Mustang did offer to show Majors Elric through the laboratories while they were waiting to hear if they'd been accepted, but both of them were more interested in the libraries, as I recall."

Ed snorted and nodded; books would always be a far more tempting draw for both Ed and Al than research space. Even before, he'd only done his original 'lab tour' because he'd had some free time before their train left during a layover in Central, but Ed and Al had both known they'd miss it if they went to the library. So they'd ended up walking lab three, found it dull, and never bothered with any of the labs again, until they found out about lab five.

"And, with as much translation backlog as we have, he hasn't had much time to leave his desk," Hughes continued, a gleam in his eyes that immediately put Ed on guard. "In fact, he was just asking to do something else. Perhaps a chance to tour the laboratories and stretch your legs is exactly what you need, Major."

:I actively hate you right now,: Ed signed, and Hughes sent him a cheerful smile in response.

Grand grunted. "I need to do my weekly walkthrough, so you might as well join me. Do you need to collect anything from your desk?"

Ed sighed and shook his head; he never bothered to bring anything to work that he didn't usually keep in his sash anyway, since he knew he'd be stuck at his desk all day, and likely wouldn't even have a use for the kunai and journal that he kept with himself at all times. Some days, he'd bring a lunch that Gracia had made, but Hughes had suggested eating at one of the places down the street for lunch that day, as a sort of 'Thank fuck it's Friday' treat, and he could just as easily do that on his own between labs, for all that dealing with any part of the service industry was about ten times harder for him without a translator.

"Good." Grand looked at Hughes. "Lieutenant Colonel."

"Sir!" Hughes saluted him, then looked at Ed and signed, :Behave yourself.:

Ed crumpled up the paper he'd been writing on and tossed it in the bin, then signed, :I know. I'll see you tonight.:

He followed Grand out of the building and to the car idling at the kerb outside. "Silent," Grand said, motioning for Ed to slide in first, which he did. Once Grand was in and had closed the door, he ordered the driver, "Lab one," then turned to Ed and said, "I hope you have some way to communicate, still."

Ed nodded and opened his jacket so he could pull his journal out of his sash, then did his jacket back up.

"An unusual addition to your uniform," Grand commented mildly.

Ed opened his journal to the first pair of facing blank pages and wrote, 'Cultural preference'

Grand blinked. "I was under the impression you were Amestrisan."

'I am but my brother + I spent time in Xing. This sash is symbol of our adopted clan'

Grand clearly considered that for a moment. "You are aware it's against military regulations to make so obvious a change to your uniform."

Ed shrugged. 'State Alchemist-not required to wear uniform at all'

Grand's moustache twitched and something that might have been humour shivered along the edges of his qi. "Indeed," he agreed blandly, before pushing the door open as the car stopped, and stepping out onto the pavement. "This is lab one," he said as Ed stepped out behind him, eyeing the unfamiliar building. (He'd been to labs three and five, of course, and lab two ended up being turned into the facility for medical alchemy, once Grumman got around to sorting through the labs, so he'd been in there a few times, but labs one and four were foreign soil to him.)

As Grand led the way past the saluting guards – his pace just the right speed that Ed didn't have to rush to keep up with him, but without looking as though he was purposefully moving slower than was his wont; Ed was a little impressed – he said, "They focus on using alchemy for weaponisation, here. I'm told you created a staff for your practical?"

Ed shrugged and nodded; the markings at the top had been more than sharp enough – and he'd balanced it so as – to be used as a spear, but since no one really got a good look at it, calling it an ornamental staff was an acceptable alternative.

Grand gave a firm nod. "Those State Alchemists who create weapons during their practical and are then assigned to Central, usually end up in lab one." He cast Ed a sharp look. "But you did something else with the staff, I've been told."

Ed shrugged again as he quickly scribbled, 'Plants,' in his journal, the lettering sloppy because they were walking.

"Simultaneous arrays are nearly unheard of," Grand said, though his tone suggested he didn't expect any sort of response to that, so Ed didn't bother. (Honestly, the only real response was that most alchemists who had seen the Gate were smart enough to stay well clear of the military's grasping claws.)

Grand held the door open for him, then motioned down the hallway in the direction he wanted to go. "Alchemists with an affinity for plants usually find themselves attached to lab two," Grand commented, "while anyone with an interest in medical alchemy are for lab three; I believe you can see why there's a question of where you'd fit best."

'Wide study,' Ed wrote.

"Admirable, especially in one so young."

He resisted the urge to snort and wrote, 'L4?'

"Laboratory four deals in alchemy on a molecular level. The manipulation of individual atoms, for the most part, but there are some potentially dangerous chemical experiments going on."

'Biochemical warfare,' he meant; they'd uncovered that little secret during the post-Promised Day clean-up, and Ed had been genuinely grateful to be well out of reach in Resembool by the time that information broke to the public. Not a single Central City citizen had been grateful to know they'd been living and working near a potential catastrophe.

'Danger?' he wrote. 'In city?'

"There are securities in place," Grand replied with a careless wave of his hand.

Well, Ed hadn't been involved in the clean-up at all, and he hadn't been in a position to ask for more information, had he even cared, so he had no idea how secure the research facilities were. (He expected he'd be finding out soon enough, assuming Grand didn't deign to only show Ed the labs he'd already shown an affinity for.)

Lab one wasn't too bad, in the end, though Ed would get bored working there fairly quickly. Teacher had been the one to teach him how to make bladed weapons out of whatever materials were to hand, and making guns the same way, while useless to him, only required a few simple changes to his preferred array. Finding ways to improve on existing weapons with alchemy looked like it could hold his interest for a while, but they were very focussed on guns which, again, not something that Ed was even passingly interested in.

Which, when he'd written something to that effect in response to the Iron-Form Alchemist's boasting, the man had straightened like he thought height would intimidate Ed, and said, "You are in the military, Silent. How are you intending to be of use to anyone without knowledge of guns?"

Ed blinked at him, then sighed and sat his journal down, carefully placing his pen just so across the cover.

And then – knowing it was stupid, but he was done with this posturing bullshit, and Al wasn't there to intervene – he clapped his hands together and summoned a spear from a nearby pile of iron faster than probably anyone in this fucking building could manage, catching it and bracing it against the floor so he could swing around it and deal a solid kick to Iron-Form's chest with his right foot. While Iron-Form was still staggering backwards, Ed shifted his weight, falling back into a practised roll and swinging out with the spear, slipping it under Iron-Form's feet and sending him to the ground with a 'thud' that shook the floor.

Ed rolled easily to his feet and pointed the sharp tip of his spear at Iron-Form's throat, meeting his wide-eyed stare with a smile full of teeth.

"I yield!" Iron-Form shouted, his voice cracking.

Ed withdrew his spear and held out a hand to help Iron-Form to his feet, which he accepted with some trepidation.

"I'm aware, Silent," Grand called from the doorway, voice flat, as Iron-Form regained his feet, "that communication is difficult for you, but please keep in mind that physically attacking a fellow member of the military is frowned upon outside a sparring ring."

Ed turned and bowed in acknowledgement.

"How did you–" Iron-Form started, before clearing his throat as Ed turned back to him. "You made that spear of out iron. Pure iron."

Ed raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"How the hell are you moving it so easily?"

Oh. Ed swung the spear around and presented Iron-Form with the butt of it, letting him see–

"It's...hollow."

Ed nodded. He'd made it just strong enough to take his weight, but still light enough to allow him to use it the same way he would a wood and steel spear. The latter was something Teacher had taught them, as she had usually had them create weapons out of the ground, but Ed had learnt how thick he needed the walls of the spear through his own trial and error, once he'd got in the habit of swinging himself around on them. Which, well, he'd done that as a kid a few times, but it was Xingan martial arts that added that particular move to his regular repertoire. (Actually, most of his regular repertoire had filled up with moves borrowed from various Xingan forms, rather than Teacher's training, as the former allowed him to make greater use of the agility and flexibility his more compact pre-growth spurt body granted him, while the latter depended more on a grounded and solid stance, which Ed often lost while ducking inside an opponent's guard or dodging their longer reach.)

"That's genius. And if you hollow out only so far up, you'll have the weight needed at the tip that people are expecting, without any unnecessary embellishments. Can I borrow this?"

Ed snorted and handed the spear over; he didn't have any use for it.

While Iron-Form and his fellow researchers started gushing over the specifics of the spear, Ed collected his journal. His pen hadn't been moved, which suggested no one was rude enough to try peeking inside. Not that it really mattered all that much if someone had – he kept his notes in Xingan and switched between two different code schemes, depending on whether he intended to share it with Al or not, because he had a code his brother hadn't managed to crack, even as an adult – but it was nice to have verified these researchers had some integrity.

"So, you're trained in martial arts," Grand commented as he led the way from the room.

'Xingan,' Ed admitted.

"I have heard some impressive stories of Xingan martial artists," Grand allowed. "Such that I would have no interest in facing them in a fair fight."

Ed snorted; having faced off against Lan Fan, before, he was inclined to agree. (Of course, how he'd fare against her now, when he was as capable of qi-sensing as she was, was anyone's guess, and may well result in more than one of her little grenades set off in his face.)

That said, he wondered what sort of not-fair fight Grand would have in mind, given you couldn't really turn off your opponent's ability to sense your qi. (Not that Amestrisan fighters likely understood that's what was going on, there.) Alchemy, probably, but Ed and Al were both alchemists, too, which meant there wasn't really a good way to level that playing field for Grand, was there?

Not that Ed would complain; Grand was too close to Bradley not to know about the plot, which made him an enemy. Maybe Grand being aware that Ed was a Xingan martial artist would make him step back, but maybe it would have him looking for ways to turn any fight in his favour.

Good. Another reason to avoid letting anyone attached to the military know about his water alchemy.

Which, speaking of his water alchemy, the last group in lab one were working to try and weaponise other elements. They had a couple different water arrays, one of which clearly had its base in Aerugonian alchemy. When asked, Ed admitted to being familiar with that one, then completely flubbed it when pressed to try.

'I'm too much earth-alchemist,' he wrote. 'Metals + ores are easy but water is too hard to grab. It just sort of flows out btwn your fingers any time you try'

"That's true enough," one of the depressed researchers said, "but it's still giving us less trouble than fire alchemy."

Ed blinked at that and let himself be shown to where they were trying to get Mustang's array to work. And Ed had once thought it was stupid of the bastard to wear his array so openly, but that was before he'd realised it was more molecular manipulation than fire, despite appearances, and there had to be literal years of research behind his mastery. Research which was necessary to actually use the array.

Ed knew enough about how the bastard's array worked, as well as molecular alchemy, that he suspected he would at least be able to manage something, but he again purposefully flubbed the array when pressed to try.

'I don't guess Flame is interested in sharing,' he guessed.

"Ha! I wish," the researcher agreed, before shaking his head. "I get it, though. Once you reach a certain level of skill, keeping your secrets to yourself is a safeguard, in a way. As soon as someone else figures out Flame's tricks and is able to face him on an even playing field, he'll only have luck and his wits to keep him alive."

Something heavy settled on top of Ed's chest, making it hard to breathe, because this idiot had a point: If anyone else figured out Mustang's flame alchemy – or worse, Ed's water alchemy – the bastard was going to suffer like fuck for it; they might even kill him.

Mustang could die because someone got a little clever.

(Ed wondered if he could find a way to keep an eye on these idiots, get into their research and put them on entirely the wrong track, should they start getting too close. Because Mustang was a bastard and temptation that Ed did not need, but Ed would sooner give up his Gate again, than stand back and watch him die.)

He forced a smile and wrote, 'Guess he'd best keep holding those secrets close'

The researcher laughed and waved him on, going back to trying to dissect Mustang's array.

"So," Grand said as they left the building for the car, "it seems there is some alchemy you can't master with book-learning."

Ed shrugged, didn't try pointing out that practice was at least two-thirds of mastering any alchemy, definitely avoided giving away that he'd screwed up the elemental alchemy on purpose. 'Wind?' he wrote instead, to keep Grand from wondering at his lack of response.

"Air manipulation is more lab four's area of expertise," Grand replied.

Oh. Right. Ed should have guessed that, though the fact that he hadn't would keep Grand from wondering if he knew more about the labs than he'd suggested in Hughes' office.

Lab two was their next stop, and Ed sort of a lot fell in love with the massive greenhouse taking up most of the ground and first floors, as well as a portion of the second, where offices had been sacrificed for the trees that hadn't cared for the limits placed on how high they were allowed to grow. It reminded him of the uncultivated parts of the Chang lands in Xing, though the plants were largely different, and the ground far less rocky; it was peaceful in a way he hadn't even realised he'd missed since coming back to Amestris, with even the crawling under his feet muted by the sheer life of the place.

Ed was no plant alchemist, only knew a handful of arrays that affected plants, but he could be happy learning, just for the chance to spend one day a week curled up in this greenhouse.

Someone laughed, and Ed turned to find a slim man rising from where he'd been pruning a bush. "It's not often I see soldiers looking so happy to be in our greenhouse."

Grand let out a vaguely disgusted sound; unsurprisingly, he was one of those soldiers who didn't care for the wash of green. "He's not a soldier," he offered. "This is the Silent Alchemist, Edward Elric. Silent, this is the Blooming Alchemist, Adam Ripley."

"Ah," Blooming said, nodding. "That makes more sense. You're a fellow plant alchemist?"

Ed grimaced and shook his head, then wrote, 'Not really but I know some plant alchemy. This just reminds me of home in Xing'

Blooming blinked. "You're Xingan?"

Ed snorted and shook his head, a little bit amused that that was always the response when he mentioned Xing. It just showed how little Amestrisans know about their eastern neighbour, that they thought gold hair and eyes might be the mark of a Xingan. (To be fair, though, his colouring was foreign.) 'Amestrisan but I lived in Xing for a few yrs'

"Got it." Blooming reached out and touched the bark of the nearest tree. "Well, we do have a few researchers who sort of got tossed in here because they knew a little bit of plant alchemy and everywhere else was full-up, but unless working with plants is a passion, I'd really suggest finding a space in one of the other labs; researchers they shuffle around, but we State Alchemists get the pick of the place." He glanced at Grand. "I assume that's why he's here? Find a good space for the new State Alchemist."

"Yes. He's widely studied, and so difficult to place."

Ed shrugged at that and couldn't resist writing, 'I'm sorry I'm a genius'

Grand didn't look impressed.

Blooming coughed. "Let me show you the research we've been working on, Brigadier General," he offered politely, motioning for them to follow him out of the greenhouse.

(Ed tried not to miss the soothing presence of the plants, but it was hard, when their absence left the Philosopher's Stones to crawl against his senses again, and he grit his teeth against the reassertion of the unwelcome sensation.)

As Blooming took them through the current projects, Ed had to admit that, yeah, as much as he liked the greenhouse, there was no way he could legitimise his setting up a lab there. They had a couple interesting projects – he super approved of the one to grow crops in soil lacking the proper nutrients, if only because he would never forget how many of his neighbours had struggled during the Ishval Extermination, between the Ishvalans with their fire and poison, and the soldiers demanding their meagre crops for themselves – but plants had never been his forte. Al would probably have better luck, but no way was Ed going to suggest he let his brother anywhere near any of the labs. Especially since finding ways to weaponise plants was also on Bradley's agenda, and of a higher priority than feeding people.

(Ed couldn't wait until they could dethrone Bradley and the Dwarf in the Flask, and actually focus on helping their people, instead of piling up bodies.)

"Silent," Blooming said as Grand led the way out, and Ed turned back towards the other State Alchemist. Blooming offered him a smile and motioned toward the doors into the greenhouse. "You don't need to have a lab here to visit."

That...hadn't really occurred to Ed, even though he knew his pocket watch would always get him through the front door of any of the labs, and he was honestly grateful for the reminder.

He doubted he'd make a habit of coming – it soothed his frazzled nerves a bit, certainly, but leaving the plants' influence wasn't really fun, and the constant there-and-gone of the crawling wouldn't help him in adapting to it – but it was nice to know there was one place in Central that he could think, and he bowed low in thanks before hurrying after the impatient brigadier general.

Grand's next stop was a high-end little restaurant that made Ed so ridiculously uncomfortable – thirty-three years old, and he still couldn't do fancy restaurants, despite Winry's handful of attempts to acclimate him – but he bore it with only a small grimace, and was grateful to find the menu in Amestrisan, rather than that wanna-be Cretan that always left him wanting to shake the nearest server.

"You look uncomfortable, Silent," Grand commented as Ed wrote down his order for their server.

Ed shot him a flat look.

Grand's moustache quivered. "You had best get used to this," he suggested, and Ed narrowed his eyes. "As impressive as your alchemical knowledge is, not to mention what information you might have on our eastern neighbour, you're likely to find yourself invited to many a dinner by an enlisted officer."

Ed ripped out the page with his order and set it aside, then wrote, 'I'm fairly certain it's beyond rude to be constantly writing at places like this'

That was definitely humour whispering through Grand's qi. "True, but I suspect you'll find some courtesies being waved in light of your...difficulty."

'DISABILITY,' Ed wrote, rolling his eyes. 'Call a horse a horse Brig Gen'

Grand let out a chuckle that only sounded a little startled, and their server came over to them before he could completely collect himself.

Once their orders were in, Grand asked, "How long have you been mute?"

'Birth,' Ed wrote, keeping his expression flat in hopes that Grand not catch he was lying. 'We looked into med alchemy to see if it was repairable but I lack a voice box. There's nothing to fix'

Grand considered him for a moment, then asked, "What if there was a way to create a new voice box for you?"

Ed shook his head. 'You can't create from 0. You should know-it's 1 of principles'

"Ah, but what if there was an item capable of ignoring the principles?" Grand pressed.

Ed stared at him while he debated telling him straight where to shove that line, or playing along and seeing how much he could get out of the man, before snorting and shaking his head; any information he got, the homunculi would then know he had, and they might well feel the need to ensure his good behaviour through hostages. 'You look at me + see tragedy but my muteness is part of me. I don't need some miracle cure-I'm happy as I am'

A minor lie; being able to speak again would be nice, if only for ease of communication, but he'd learnt to live without his voice, the same way he'd learnt to live without his leg. And, anyway, it wasn't worth the cost. He'd been able to rationalise his use of a Philosopher's Stone to save Al, sure, but he knew better than to try for himself; Al had been an innocent paying for a crime Ed had pressured him into committing, but Ed himself was awash in sins. If silence and a metal leg were his punishments for everything he'd done, he would bear them, and gladly.

Grand blinked, settling back in his chair. "Happy," he repeated, clearly unconvinced.

'You prefer content? There's 0 about me that needs to be fixed sir'

Grand watched him for a long moment before saying, "You seem unusually mature for a child."

Ed snorted and wrote, 'My father abandoned us when I was 4 + Mum died shortly after I turned 5. I grew up quick.' True, even without his being mute. They'd had Granny, sure, and the villagers were always kind to them, but it had still been Ed and Al, alone together in that house, for years. They'd seen hell in that house, and Ed had burnt it to the ground, refusing to look back, and then they'd walked the world, living for other people, before finally finding a way to live for themselves.

Ed had always felt too old for his physical age, he just actually had a reason, now, that had other people believing the same.

Their food came, saving Grand from having to find a response to that, and also saving Ed from having to deal with pity that he had no use for.

They ate in silence for a bit, before Grand started asking Ed what he thought about some of the research being done in the labs. Ed was slow to answer at first – half suspicious, half aware his writing at the table was rude – before shaking himself a bit and just answering straight. Grand already knew he could transmute fast and without a physical array, and he knew Ed specialised in making weapons and knew some plant alchemy. As long as he stayed away from the fire and water alchemy, it didn't really matter what Ed said. (Though he did still try to watch what he gave away, to some extent; transmuting a singular weapon in seconds was nothing like transmuting an entire house in five minutes, though the first certainly suggested the possibility of the second.)

Grand wasn't easy to get a read on, so Ed couldn't say how he took any of Ed's comments, other than that his qi remained calm, if slightly intrigued, and he didn't try any of that 'I've been an alchemist longer and know this stuff better than you do, kid' bullshit that Ed had always seemed to get from pretty much any State Alchemist other than Mustang. Which, if nothing else, suggested he put more stock in knowledge than age. (Then again, Grand had almost certainly come into this association aware that Ed had performed and survived human transmutation, same as Mustang had, so perhaps that had something to do with his absolute lack of higher-than-thou bullshit.)

After lunch, they made for lab three. Ed spent a good hour passing along the Cretan arrays he knew, explaining what each was for and the basics behind them, then helping a couple of the researchers figure out how to work the unfamiliar designs. (Because Cretan alchemy was swirls and curves, while Amestrisan alchemy was straight edges and sharp corners; spending years studying one was not conductive to easily understanding the other, and he knew it would likely be months of trial and error before this group of morons would be able to use the arrays with any regularity, let alone start trying to find a way to translate it into the more familiar arrays that normal alchemists would be looking for. Which, well, Ed wasn't going to tell them how pointless an endeavour that was.)

Once Ed felt like he could leave those idiots without supervision, he went to hunt down Grand, because while he was happy to check in with those researchers occasionally, healing alchemy was about as much his passion as plant alchemy; he'd picked it up because it was useful, and spent time studying it because he'd needed to know enough to be able to bring it back to Amestris and teach others, but he really had no interest in devoting his life to it.

(Maybe this was his real problem with being assigned a lab space: Ed didn't focus on just one type of alchemy. His access to the Gate's knowledge had given him a certain easy understanding of some of the most complex scientific concepts, and it didn't take much time or effort for him to create a new array, or alter one already in existence. His 'research time' was better spent pouring over books in the library, gathering more arrays and studying the research done by others. Hell, in thirty years, the only types of alchemy he'd really done any in depth study of were human transmutation, as a kid, and water alchemy, more recently. One was illegal, and the other he wasn't sharing with fucking anyone, save Al, which meant he had no use for lab space for either of them.)

He heard Grand's low voice from one of the rooms along the hallway he was walking down and let out a quiet relieved sigh as he made for that door. It wasn't that he was afraid the man had left him behind without warning, or that he really felt like he needed the brigadier general there to...fuck knows. Protect him? From alchemists researching healing alchemy?

Take a moment to laugh at the mere thought.

But there was something about this building that was itching at his senses, little whispers of anger and pain and terror just on the edge of his conscious focus, joining the Stones underground in their constant attempt to drive him insane, and only getting more pronounced, now he wasn't busy with the healing researchers. Which was another excellent reason why he didn't want to get assigned lab space in this building, and Ed kind of hoped Grand was done and they could skip out. He didn't expect lab four to have any greater an interest for him than any of the others, so he'd probably get stuck with lab space in lab one, which was fine. From how Grand had put it, as long as he spent time in one of the four labs once a week, Bradley would be happy. He could alternate between threatening the weapons people and abusing the healing people, with occasional stops to hide from the world in the greenhouse, and that should be sufficient.

He pushed open the door he'd heard Grand behind and found it led to a brightly lit lab that was walled with cages. Cages filled with all sorts of weird crosses of animals: Chimeras. This was the source of those itching whispers of misery: Dozens of animals fighting within themselves, trapped in their own bodies as much as they were by the steel cages, most of them terrified out of their minds, and at least half of them in pain.

The walls must have been providing some sort of insulation, because it all washed over Ed like a breaking tide, too fucking strong, almost before he'd had time to realise what he'd just walked into.

He spun and ran, dodging around people that he wasn't even seeing, just needed to get away from that terrible...everything.

Somehow, he made it outside, and threw up in the bushes.

Fuck. Fuck. He needed to warn Al to stay well away from chimera labs, because that wash of pain and terror might well break his brother, had nearly broken him. He hadn't felt this wretched since the time he'd dug up what he'd thought was Mum.

And he'd never been a fan of chimera research, had come to truly despise it after Tucker, but this– This was a whole new hell wrapped in agony wrapped in everything he hated about humanity's need to experiment on everything.

Maybe he'd tried human transmutation, but, other than a little bit of plant alchemy, that had been the extent of what alchemy he'd used on anything living, and he never used plant alchemy to harm plants, only to help them grow, revitalise them a bit as they began to wilt. And maybe it could be argued that trading the Philosopher's Stone for Al's life had been 'using alchemy on something living', but his actions had been as much a salvation for them as a benefit for himself. (He had to believe that.)

He didn't– He couldn't even begin to understand the mental space you had to slip into to want to perform alchemy on living subjects, especially subjects that literally could not consent. That wouldn't have consented, even if given half a chance.

He hated chimera researchers, and damned if he'd allow himself to be forced to have a lab space in this laboratory.

(He could never be more glad that he'd refused to let Al be assigned to the labs here in Central, because he would have had no option but to be assigned to lab three.)

Grand came out about ten minutes later, looking around at Ed's standing height for a moment, before going lower and finally coming to rest on where he'd remained sitting on the lawn, not quite willing to trust his real leg until he absolutely had to. "Silent," he said, his tone thankfully devoid of any emotion, so far as Ed could tell.

He held up the note he'd pre-written: 'I don't like chimera research. If you try to assign me lab space in this building I will hand in my watch. I'm willing to drop by to help the med researchers but I CANNOT work here'

Grand took his journal to read the note, then politely closed it as he gave Ed a considering look, his qi remaining thankfully devoid of any overt sense of judgement or pity. Finally, he asked, "Can you stand?"

Ed shoved himself to his feet in response. And, as he'd kind of expected, his right leg was a little shaky, but his left leg managed to compensate, and when Grand handed back his journal and led the way to the car, Ed was able to follow without any real difficulty.

Still, he was grateful to sit again, once in the car.

"Lab four," Grand ordered their driver, before looking at Ed with that considering stare of his. "You're not the first alchemist in the military's employ to react to chimera research with abhorrence, though that's the most extreme reaction I've seen. You have experience with chimeras?"

Ed gave a brief nod, because that was a far more believable reason than 'I can feel the animals' pain' for his reaction, and was true, to an extent; he'd always hate chimera research because of Nina, and because of those human-chimeras he'd known who had been forced into the meshing – like the two he'd been stuck with before the Promised Day, or Al's old travelling companions – but this was a new level of disgust.

Grand hummed and, kindly, didn't press for more.

Lab four, as it turned out, had all the earmarks of a chemistry lab, the researchers there working with whatever chemicals they could get their hands on to try various molecular-based arrays on. A lot of it was trying to mix liquid or solid chemicals, or watching how heat or cold affected a transmutation, which, well, Ed had picked up his share of chemistry during his studies into human transmutation, and it had been the only science he could actively practise, after he'd lost his alchemy, so he had some interest in it. These sorts of experiments had never really been something he'd tried – mostly because Winry would have taken his leg if he'd actually tried setting up a chemistry lab in their house, so most of his work had to remain theoretical – but they were interesting, all the same, and well within his area of knowledge.

The wind alchemy Ed had asked about after lab one was in evidence here, with a group of researchers trying to find a way to control gaseous molecules to move through the air, despite wind currents; a way to suffocate an enemy with poisonous gases, without chancing it harming your own soldiers if the wind changed. Ed was, in turns, creeped out and impressed, though it was clear they had a long way to go before this particular alchemy was able to be used in a battlefield situation.

He liked this lab. This lab was cool. He'd probably end up spending his first day adding additional protections to the section with the more hazardous experiments – what securities they had weren't quite up to Ed's standards, from his brief glance, but they'd developed a lot of additional protection-based arrays, once Grumman turned their focus away from making better weapons, so Ed knew tricks that just didn't exist yet – but he could see himself with lab space in this building. He didn't really know what he'd be focussing on, mind, but he could work here without feeling like he was about to go crazy with boredom, because everyone else in the building were uninspired idiots.

After lab four, they were driven back to Central Command, and Grand led the way up to his office. There, he gestured Ed towards a small table and chairs set by the window, across from his desk, where they would have an excellent view of the parade grounds. "What do you make of lab three's healing research?" he asked once they'd both sat.

Ed blinked, then shrugged and opened his journal to answer, going through both labs three and four, the same way they had one and two over lunch. He did hint, a bit, that he wouldn't mind working in lab four, but he didn't outright say so; he'd been in the military too long to believe they'd give him exactly what he wanted if they thought he could be more use to them somewhere else.

Grand let out a vaguely thoughtful hum as he finished reading the last of Ed's thoughts on lab four. "Did this tour spark any ideas for projects?" he asked as he slid Ed's journal back to him.

Ed blinked at him, not really having expected that question. And, well, he still wasn't coming up with anything – he just didn't do research projects, okay? – so he shook his head.

"No," Grand agreed. "You're as much a research alchemist as I am. You know exactly as much as you need to to keep you alive in the field, and research – as it's performed in the labs – would just bog you down." He stood. "Come with me."

Ed frowned and stood as he collected his journal, falling in behind Grand as he led the way through his outer office and down the hallways of Command. And Ed wasn't really familiar with Central Command's current layout – it had been changed when they'd had to rebuild after the Promised Day, and that had been the building he'd spent more time in, despite no longer being a member of the military – but the growing sense of wrath told him where they were headed: Bradley's office.

He tightened his grip around his journal and narrowed his eyes on Grand's back; what was the brigadier general up to?

Storch stood and saluted Grand as they stepped into Bradley's outer office. "Brigadier General Grand, sir."

"We're here to see the Führer, if he's available," Grand requested.

Storch nodded and knocked on the inner office door, then poked his head into Bradley's office. "The Iron Blood and Silent Alchemists are here for you, sir."

"Show them in," Bradley replied, and Storch stepped fully into the office, opening the door and motioning for Grand and Ed to step inside.

"Führer Bradley, sir!" Grand barked, saluting, as the door fell closed behind them. Next to him, Ed bowed, trying to pretend he wasn't tense as fuck.

"Brigadier General Grand, Major Elric," Bradley returned, "won't you both have seats?"

Ed looked up to find Bradley motioning to the chairs facing his desk. The homunculus looked almost friendly, more curious than cross at the interruption, outwardly. But his qi remained a mass of absolute rage, only barely soothed back behind his polite façade.

(And he'd thought getting a read on Grand was hard.)

As they both settled, Bradley turned an amused smile on Ed. "An interesting change to the uniform, Silent. Shall I assume your brother is equally as disinclined toward regulation?"

Ed shrugged and nodded, because there really wasn't much point in hiding what Bradley could very easily learn from whatever eyes he had in East Command. And Ed didn't honestly expect Bradley to take issue with their sashes; he'd always given Ed a fair share of leeway, before, likely to keep him from deserting out of spite.

Bradley let out a noncommittal hum and turned to Grand. "Was there a problem with finding our young alchemist space in the laboratories?"

Grand folded his fingers together. "Not quite, sir. The Blooming Alchemist seems to be of the opinion that Silent won't fit in in laboratory two, and Silent, himself, absolutely refuses to have lab space in laboratory three–" Ed clenched his jaw at the glance Bradley send him "–but he could easily join laboratories one or four, from my observations."

"However?" Bradley asked, clearly as aware as Ed that needing to choose between two labs hardly merited the Führer's input.

Grand inclined his head and glanced at Ed. "The Silent Alchemist is not a research alchemist, sir, any more than I, or his mentor, the Flame Alchemist, are. He is better served in the field, though I understand communication will always be a hurdle, there." He shifted, leaning forward slightly. "I have mentioned, as you are aware, that the increase in my duties upon my promotion have made it more difficult to keep an eye on the laboratories. Silent is widely studied, and seems able to grasp, without difficulty, concepts I have had to ask clarification about in the past.

"If I might suggest, sir, instead of assigning him lab space, I pass on the duty of inspecting the four laboratories to him, and he can write up a report and deliver it to me on Friday afternoons, when I should have time to go over any specific concerns. That will give him a chance to regularly, as Lieutenant Colonel Hughes said, 'stretch his legs', and get him away from Investigations paperwork for a while; I received the impression it's rather tedious work."

Wait, what? In what universe did it make sense to give one of the newest and the second youngest State Alchemist jurisdiction over the research labs? What had he said, exactly, that made Grand think that was a good idea? Or was this some sort of weird, fucked up attempt to win his loyalty to the military? (It wouldn't work; he knew what they were.)

"Hmm." Bradley turned to consider Ed, his angry energy seeming to back off, rather than focussing, which was an interesting study in the oddities of homunculi (or, at the least, homunculi who had originally been human). "Yes, we wouldn't want such a bright mind to get bored," he agreed mildly.

That was it, Ed realised. He was too clever, too sharp, and working in the very military department dedicated to picking apart the secrets of others. Doubtless, one of the intentions in sticking him with lab space was to gauge his skills, but it was also an attempt to give him a project to focus on, something that would distract Ed from any explorations. And then, of course, Hughes had given away that he was more than a little bit bored with his translation duties, and if he went looking for something more interesting in his workspace...

Ed hadn't given them many options in his placement, and the homunculi couldn't afford to have one of their precious human sacrifices poking his nose where it didn't belong and discovering things he shouldn't. They'd gone to great lengths, before, to keep all of them in the dark, with Lust willing to kill both Mustang and Al to keep them silent. In the end, they'd resorted to hostages, yes, but that hadn't been their first response to the threat of their secrets being uncovered.

Except Ed wasn't the sort to be distracted by a long term research project. Hell, he and Al had managed to crack Marcoh's research notes in under two weeks, so even handing him a stack of alchemic journals from former State Alchemists would only keep him busy for so long. (Not that anyone knew that personal research journals would serve as a distraction, since Ed hadn't been able to get to the library yet, though he fully intended to tackle that over the weekend.)

They couldn't distract him with a research project, and Bradley couldn't afford him getting killed on a mission, not when they'd finally found two alchemists that met the Dwarf in the Flask's criteria, so the next best option was to...what? Let the fourteen-year-old genius think he was special because they were entrusting him with keeping an eye on other alchemists?

Yes.

And if Ed were actually fourteen, this plan would have worked.

Ed did his best to look hopeful and interested, like he hadn't realised this was intended as a trap, rather than a recognition of his genius and/or maturity.

Bradley offered him an indulgent smile, before glancing between Ed and Grand and asking, "You said there was an issue with laboratory three?"

Grand motioned to Ed who, grimacing, flipped open to his earlier note and passed the journal to Bradley.

"I see," Bradley said, before very obviously flipping to an earlier page of Ed's journal.

Grand stiffened – good to know at least someone in Bradley's pocket knew better than to go snooping in an alchemist's personal notes – next to Ed, while Ed merely smiled, secure in his certainty that none of the homunculi knew a damn thing about Xing, least of all how to read the language. (And, even if Bradley somehow did, he wouldn't be cracking Ed's personal code anytime soon.)

Ed might have to let other people handle his alchemy notes, due to his disability, but he also knew how to keep them secret.

Bradley closed the journal and eyed Ed's smile with an expression that could have been wry amusement, if the uptick of fury in his qi hadn't given him away. "Xingan, I presume," he said as he held Ed's journal back out to him.

Ed shrugged and nodded, being very obvious about dropping his journal carelessly into his lap once he had it back, like he wasn't worried about who might get their hands on it. (Okay, he wasn't that careless, but appearing overconfident was a good way to ensure these idiots kept thinking they had him.)

Bradley folded his fingers together in front of his mouth, his appearance of good humour vanishing. "To be in charge of inspecting the laboratories, you will have to be willing to deal with the chimera researchers, no matter your personal feelings on the matter."

In other words, Ed would have to go into that lab again, and ask about their fucking research while surrounded by all those animals in agony.

(He was going to be sick again.)

"You have experience with chimeras, you said," Grand offered, his tone carefully mild, and Ed allowed a quick nod. "Then I expect you're aware of the necessity in keeping a close eye on chimera researchers, lest they decide to try their hands at something a little less...humane."

Ed was going to punch Grand in the fucking face and then laugh his way through a court-martial hearing, swear to fuck.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, remember that these fuckers were willing to wipe out their entire country just for a chance at immortality; they didn't give a flying fuck about a handful of animals, wouldn't even if they could feel their agony and fear.

He didn't want to go back into that lab. More than anything, he didn't want to go back into that lab, but Grand was right about chimera researchers needing oversight, and maybe Ed could...nudge the researchers into arrays that would hurt less. (He could do that, right? Do a bit of research himself, throw up a few times at what he'd stooped to, then fix their arrays?

(For the Nina he hadn't been able to save, he could do that...right?)

He forced himself to nod, somehow sat through the rest of the arrangements to assign him the task of the inspections and set up a weekly meeting with Grand.

When he finally got out of Central Command, he made a beeline for home. And there, playing in the front garden, bundled up in her winter coat, was Nina. Fully human and laughing as she ran around, kicking a ball.

She saw him, then, and her whole face lit up. "Big Brother!" she shouted, forgetting the ball in favour of running towards Ed.

Ed caught her and hugged her tight, let the simple fact that she was alive and safe settle the churning of his stomach.

"Ed?" Gracia called, and he looked up to find her standing in the doorway, Elicia peering out hopefully from behind her. "You're home early."

Ed swallowed and nodded as he headed for the door. Looking at Nina, he pointed first at the door, then the ground.

Nina took a moment to chew her bottom lip in indecision, then wrapped her arms back around Ed's neck, quietly saying, "Sad."

Ah, the perceptiveness of children. Ed kissed her cheek as he stepped inside, Gracia picking up Elicia and retreating ahead of him with a worried frown. Ed carefully braced Nina and signed, one-handed, :I'm fine.:

Gracia gave a hum that said she didn't believe him for a minute, but left with Elicia, while Ed wrestled with Nina's coat and his own jacket, hanging them both up without having to put her down. (A skill he'd developed with his own kids, and which Elicia and Nina both seemed to think was the most fun game ever.)

Elicia joined them shortly after Ed had settled onto the couch with Nina, and he'd somehow ended up bracketed by them while they played a hand game over his lap, by the time Gracia came in with a tray of mugs filled with hot chocolate. Elicia and Nina were both delighted, letting off their hand game and obediently settling back so they could sip at their small mugs. Ed, himself, was grateful for the warm drink, accepting his mug with a look that was probably tellingly grateful.

"So?" Gracia pressed once she'd settled onto the other couch with her own mug, the tray sat on the coffee table between them.

"Where's Papa?" Nina asked around her mug, apparently only just noticing he was missing.

Ed sighed and set his mug on the table so he could slowly – Gracia was still learning, but she was a quicker study than Ed had honestly expected – sign, :State Alchemist business.:

Gracia nodded and translated, for the girls, "Papa is still at work, but Big Brother Ed got to leave early because he's special."

"Papa isn't special?" Nina asked, her mouth drawn into a confused frown.

:First week?: Ed suggested.

Gracia smiled. "Right, of course. Because it's his first week."

"Oh." Nina nodded – that clearly explained everything – and went back to her hot chocolate.

By the time the hot chocolate was finished, Nina and Elicia had both forgotten that Ed had come home upset, and dragged him down to the floor to play with the dolls Nina had unburied from where they'd apparently been spelunking under the couch. (Ed was fairly certain he didn't want to know.)

Hughes got home not quite an hour later and, after kissing Gracia, Nina, and Elicia in greeting, warned the youngest two, "I need to borrow your brother for a bit, but you can have him back after dinner."

Ed smiled at the chorus of "Aww"s, and got to his feet to follow Hughes into the dining room. Gracia followed not long after, casting them worried looks over the free-standing worktop that served as the barrier between kitchen and dining room, as she got started on dinner.

"So, how was your tour of the labs?" Hughes asked.

Ed sighed and signed, :About as expected. One's failing miserably at fire and water alchemy, two has an amazing greenhouse that I'm going to move into, three has chimera research, and four's playing in chemical warfare.:

Gracia drew in a sharp breath; either she was getting a lot better than Ed'd realised, or she'd just recognised the worst parts and extrapolated.

Hughes' expression was grim. "About as expected, indeed," he murmured. "Where did they put you? Two?"

Ed's smile ached in all the wrong ways. :They didn't. I'm not a research alchemist and Iron Blood knows it. He got Bradley to agree to have me walk the inspections in his stead.:

Hughes frowned and he leant forward. "A teenager who only joined this week?" he hissed.

Ed felt his smile widening, pulling too hard. :They don't want me to get bored in Investigations and go snooping. They can't afford to kill me, and they don't know enough, yet, to be certain they can force my compliance.:

"So it's a distraction," Hughes muttered, leaning back and rubbing at his face for a brief moment. "What did you do?"

:Exactly what I would have at fourteen: I acted like it was my due and agreed.:

Hughes nodded. "We can work with this. Keeping tabs on alchemy research is something Investigations has always struggled with, not least because we have a limited number of staff who have permission to freely enter the labs, and fewer still with the knowledge to understand what they find."

'Ah,' Ed mouthed. :So this distraction is meant for both of us. Excellent.:

Hughes' smile looked like it ached and pulled in all the wrong ways that Ed's did. "What's say we make them regret throwing us this bone?"

Ed's smile grew teeth, turning far too feral. :With PLEASURE,: he signed.

.