A/N: So I was fully prepared to finish this chapter and post it yesterday, but then our washing machine broke, and I had to help haul a new one upstairs, put it in, and take the old one and a bunch of scrap wood and metal to the dump, in the rain. So yesterday was not the best day for me. But I did finish the update by today, technically before the end of the weekend! And it's full of badass Alphonse! And actual action! Things are actually happening in this chapter!

And as for the next update, it may or may not come in two weeks. It was scheduled for the end of Royai week, which I am trash for and participating in, so depending on whether or not I get all of that writing done in advance ( as of now I have 1 1/2 of the prompts done, but I may not do them all), Chapter 12 might come in three weeks. I really don't want to rush writing chapter 12, because it's pretty important with the conversation between Al and someone else who you'll find out.

But anyway, I finally got done replying to everyone who reviewed (I think. If I forgot you, I'm sorry)! The amount of positive feedback on this story keeps me going, and it's good to see what everyone is liking about this! Sorry for the insane author's note, but as usual, I hope everyone enjoys!


"Hey, is that automail?" The man with the cart asked right before he left, as if it were a second thought.

Al slowly and a bit confusedly replied, "No," drawing the O out for a couple of seconds. Why would it matter if he had automail or not?

"Oh. You should be fine, then," And with that cryptic statement, he waved goodbye and left Alphonse standing there, thoroughly confused.

If automail was such a problem up north, Al was glad Brother didn't come along with him on the trip. It was likely that Ed would have just marched right up the mountain, ignoring any warning he got. As much as Alphonse missed Ed, he wouldn't want Ed to possibly injure himself by being a dumbass.

The trek up Briggs mountain was strange for Al; even though he knew it was cold, he couldn't feel a thing. The snowflakes drifting down from the sky hit his armor and Al didn't even feel the slightest bit chilly. This dichotomy confused Alphonse about how to feel. On one hand, he was glad the wind wasn't belting snow and ice onto his real face, however, that kept reminding him that he didn't have a real face. Even if he wanted to feel the sting of the increasing wind, he wouldn't be able to. If he wanted to jump into a soft looking snowbank, the only sensation he'd get was maybe some snow getting on his blood seal. Heck, Al couldn't even make a snowball to throw at people without being able to feel how hard he was packing the snow.

Well, maybe he could transmute some snowballs, but that would take half the fun out of it.

Wandering up the path to the mountain, Al just let his mind wander as well. It wasn't like there was anybody to actually talk to, now that he'd been separated from Edward. Ed. That was always the thing Al's mind drew back on. How was brother doing now? Did he know (him, not Greed) that Al was determined to come make things right? Was he eating properly?

The questions were endless, and Alphonse began to wonder if Ed had the same questions about him. Surely Brother was worried about Al's safety, but was he worrying about his own? Who knew what kind of crazy stuff Greed would get himself into? Al really didn't want his brother's face to be recognizable in some kind of secret illegal gang, or whatever you could call what Greed had in Dublith.

And was Ed getting his proper nutrition? Maybe he'd actually grow a couple inches if Greed decided to drink his milk. But was there any milk at all? Did homunculi even need to eat? Gluttony sure did, but the rest of them might not. If Ed's body wasn't, in fact getting nutrition, then Ed's earlier theory of how their gates got tangled up and Ed was providing for Al's body as well, was likely disproved. Al's body would have keeled over by now after weeks without food. But there was still hope, because it wasn't like either of them had actually seen Al's body after it had been taken.

More and more questions swarmed around in Al's head, but they all went away after the wind picked up even more. Deep, gray clouds descended on the mountain, which, combined with the the unending barrage of snow, made it incredibly difficult to see. Al had a slight advantage with his glowing eyes, but it really wasn't very much at all. He still couldn't feel the snow, but he could hear it making contact with the steel of his armor. Al wondered if he should cover his blood seal with anything, but remembered that his armor was probably the exact same temperature as the air around him (there was no way his body could actually generate heat for itself), and any snow that did hit the armor wouldn't melt on contact.

Soon, Al was glad he was a giant hunk of metal, because otherwise, he'd have been blown away by now. Ed would also have had a great chance of getting blown right off the mountain, due to his small size. Although, his automail might be enough to keep him anchored to the ground.

Once Ed got his body back for himself, he'd need to come up to Briggs and see about that.

The new dream for the future melted away, though, after Al looked down and couldn't see the path beneath his feet. There was a chance the thing had just gotten covered with snow, but there was also the very real possibility that Al had wandered off somewhere random, and was miles away from the Briggs fort.

"Damn it!" He yelled out, hating the fact that he'd felt compelled to curse so much in recent times. Edward was supposed to be the foul-mouthed one.

Al turned to look around, but when he did, something hard knocked on his head, almost making it tumble off, "What the…"

What had once been a clear patch of snow behind him was now two men dressed in white covert-ops uniforms. The Briggs mountain guard. This was a good sign; it meant Al had to be getting close!

"Hey, my name is Alphonse Elric, and I'm here to-" Al couldn't finish his sentence, because one of the guard swiftly sent a punch toward his head again, "Wait!"

Nobody waited. Instead, three more members of the mountain guard popped their heads out of the snow and assumed fighting stances, "My name is Alphonse- HEY!" Another one of them had come at Al, going for his chest to tackle him down. But Al wasn't about to be knocked down.

He grabbed the guy and spun him into a snowbank, quickly having to turn to block the next if he didn't want a fight, it looked like he was going to get one.

Two of the Briggs men, or maybe women, Al didn't know, darted to either side of Al, the one on the left going for his arm and the one on the right going for his legs. Al propelled his left arm up, catching the soldier in the face with a punch. His white face mask shifted position and he had to spend a few seconds on the ground adjusting his mask.

Al wasn't fast enough to stop the other soldier, however. With force that shouldn't be available to an average-sized soldier, the Briggs guard swept Al's feet out from right under him and held him down. Al gasped and swiveled his torso around to punch the soldier. His hits grazed the face of the woman, and her mask became twisted around. Her hands flew off of Al's legs, and he was able to use that opening to land another hit. This one sent the woman careening back into the snow.

The next soldier who tried his luck pulled a gun out. Oh no, "You shouldn't do that!" Al yelled, not wanting to cause these people any serious injuries, "The ricochet might hit you!" His warning obviously wasn't heeded, because Al heard a bang and a scream. The soldier clutched his leg, watching crimson drops of blood fall into the snow beside him. Al wanted to go over and make sure he was alright, but was taken off guard by the last Briggs guard of the bunch who he hadn't fought yet.

This one circled around Alphonse, faking an attack every now and then to try and throw Al off. But the younger Elric brother was not about to lose to a cheap trick like that. Teacher had trained him better. Al waited, turning as the Briggs guard watched him, keeping an eye on the other members of the guard who he'd previously knocked down. Unfortunately, two of them were getting back up. The one whose leg was shot, stayed on the ground bandaging his wound, and the first man Al came in contact with was still in the process of extricating his head from the snowbank.

Finally, Al decided to make the first move, and kicked his leg up at the soldier. He missed his mark, and the soldier darted under it. Al brought his steel foot down onto the soldier's head, causing him to get knocked to the ground. Al turned to assess the state of the other guard members who attacked him, but was soon knocked to the ground himself.

The soldier had apparently not been knocked unconscious, and was now using one hand to rub his head, while the other secured Alphonse into the snow. Once Al figured out what was happening, he took advantage of his incredible strength, and pushed the man off. He went careening into a higher snowbank, and Al stood up, victorious.

The woman soldier came at Al again, using almost the same tactic, but this time holding a piece of rope as if she wanted to tie him up. A swift uppercut to the face stopped her in her tracks and sent her to the ground, now nursing what had to be a bloody nose. Al really didn't want to hurt these people; they were all on the same side. But these attackers were relentless. The last man standing pulled out his own pistol.

"It's going to ricochet! Don't shoot!" Alphonse yelled, but the man kept his aim.

In order to stop the soldier from injuring himself, Al ran toward him, aiming to knock him to the ground. However, before the suit of armor could barrel into the man, he discharged his gun.

The bullet did ricochet, however, it had somehow managed to enter Al's armor through one of the spaces between his helmet and his torso. Now, the projectile was bouncing around inside his chest piece, and Al had to get it out or stop it somehow before it hit his blood seal. That, though, might require him to open it up and reveal that he was hollow.

Al hit the soldier right on top of his head, knocking him unconscious, and turned round to a direction nobody was looking. He quickly opened the chestplate, and the bullet bounced out with one last clang. Finally, it was over.

The Briggs mountain guard was definitely a formidable force to deal with, and had Al not been an indestructable, 7-foot tall suit of armor, he likely would not have won that fight. He hated the fact that there had been a fight in the first place, but at least there was one positive to have come out of the situation. Being attacked by the guard meant that he was near Briggs. And it had to be pretty close, too, due to the number of men who'd tried to stop him. Now all he had to do was locate the fort.

Al closed his chest with a clang, and heard a gruff voice behind him, "Drop the weapon now, you filthy Drachman spy."

Not another one… Al turned, expecting to see another white-clad member of the Briggs guard, but ended up seeing a behemoth of a man holding an automail arm threateningly at him. This man was dressed in the typical blue Amestrian military uniform, a standard-issue black coat draped over his shoulders. This black mohawk ended in a long ponytail that whipped in the wind behind him as he spoke, and pressed a button on the arm- no, not arm, it was more like a jaw with chainsaw teeth attached to his stump.

"Sir, I can assure you, I'm not a spy. My name is Alphonse Elric, and-"

"Only a spy would walk around in this weather. The snow cover makes it easier not to get caught," Mohawk Guy replied threateningly, much to Al's chagrin.

"Look, I came here because I need help from the General," Al held up his hands as a nonviolent gesture, but the action seemed to have no effect on the angry man in front of him.

"I'm sure you would like help from the General, wouldn't you?" he snarled back.

"I have a letter of introduction explaining everything. If you tell you men to stand down and stop attacking me, I can explain everything."

"I sure as hell am not letting a spy infiltrate the Briggs fortress," the man yelled once more, then charged at Al. It was insane; he was almost the same height as the young alchemist.

Mohawk Guy came directly at Al, aiming his jaw-like chainsaw arm straight at the helmet of Al's armor. Alphonse was able to dodge the attack, keeping his head -and his secret- in tact. He begrudgingly accepted the fact that he'd have to fight Mohawk Guy, and swept his foot out to knock the behemoth of a man to the ground.

Al's action caused his opponent to stumble once, but he wasn't knocked over. Al cursed mentally again; that move would definitely have worked on any other normal soldier. Al tried kicking again, landing a solid one into Mohawk Guy's chest. Again, the man let out a pained grunt and stumbled back, but stayed standing. And somehow he'd become even angrier than he already was.

"Please, Sir, let me explain why I'm here. We don't need to be fighting like this!" Al tried again, now on the defensive. The wind around them began dying down, allowing Al's voice to be heard a little louder. Was the storm finally subsiding?

"Listen, you're wandering around Briggs fort in a blizzard, you've beaten almost all of the men stationed here, and you're in the middle of fighting me. You've pulled out zero proof of identity. Do you blame me for being suspicious?" The man growled back. He activated his arm again, and charged at Al.

Not wanting to be cut to pieces by a chainsaw, Al had to try and deflect the man's insane automail. Upon looking closer at the prosthetic, he thought he remembered seeing something like this in one of Winry's automail catalogues. Al read everything he could while everyone else was asleep at night, and one of Winry's catalogues had happened to be lying around the Rockbell house a while ago. This arm, the M19-13-A, or "the Crocodile", was a combat model specialized for northern weather, and if Al remembered right, it had an off button on the inside of the bicep. If he could get to that off button, maybe he could stop Mohawk Guy from tearing him to shreds as he explained why he was here.

"My name is Alphonse Elric!" he yelled out, but his opponent didn't slow. Al would have thought the guy would recognize 'Elric", but apparently the famous Elric brother's weren't all that famous everywhere. In this situation, the namedrop wouldn't be enough.

"I have a letter from Major Armstrong in Central that proves who I am!" he yelled, and Mohawk Guy paused.

"Whose name did you just say?" He kept his arms up in a fighting stance, but stood still. That was a start.

"Sir, Major Armstrong wrote this letter of introduction. If you could only let me go see the General-"

"Anyone can forge a letter," Does this guy never stop? His paranoia about spies was getting on Al's nerves, "I need more proof that you're not just here to try and kill us all."

But Al didn't have any more proof. He looked around nervously, trying to look for an easy way out of the entire situation, and found that he could actually see a lot better than earlier. The amount of wind and snow falling now was a dramatic decrease from mere minutes ago.

"Please just let me explain!" Al yelled again, but the scary mohawk guy with the deadly automail charged at him again. Apparently Mohawk Guy was so paranoid and upset about spies that he completely disregarded any attempt at normal conversation.

It wasn't until Al's giant opponent had almost reached him that Al was able to think of his newest strategy. He blocked the blows that came from Mohawk Guy's freakish 'crocodile' arm with his own fists, and returned a few. Now that Al was able to see a lot better, he found that he was able to be quicker and more precise with his hits. Mohawk Guy was knocked back a few steps, but suddenly charged Al once more, finally getting a hold of Al's left arm with his automail.

"Damn it!" Cried Alphonse, who was struggling with his other hand to try and pry the combat automail open. He was seriously concerned about his arm getting sawed in half. Finally, Al realized that the only way to prevent that was to get something caught in the workings of the automail. Glancing around at what he had nervously, Al concluded that he'd either have to somehow use his hand to stop the machine, or use his head to tangle it up. After a futile attempt with his hand, Al finally resigned to using his helmet.

His secret would be out after this, but at least he'd still remain alive and in one piece.

Using his right arm, Al pried his head off. A gasp came from his opponent, and using that momentary shock as an opening, Al jammed the head into the automail.

It took two seconds, but eventually the long strand of 'hair' Al was so proud of got stuck in the mechanical workings of Mohawk Guy's arm. Grinding noises ensued, and the chainsaw part of Mohawk Guy's arm stopped working. He cursed, and dropped Al's arm while trying to examine his own.

Alphonse spun away and readied himself for a continuation of the fight, but a sharp voice broke through the air, "Buccaneer! Who is this?"

Mohawk Guy- Buccaneer- stopped in his tracks and looked upward behind Al. This action caused the young alchemist to also turn his head. Behind him was a gigantic wall covered with patches of frost. And on a raised balcony on that wall stood the owner of the sharp voice who had yelled at Buccaneer. A woman with long blonde hair and an even longer sword stood above everyone else, staring down with a displeased expression on her face.

"General Armstrong, Sir! I didn't see you there!" Buccaneer snapped into an awkward salute (his right arm had a giant helmet hanging from it), then gestured to Alphonse. Some of the mountain guard had regrouped themselves enough to surround Al again, this time pointing all of their guns at the young alchemist. Al begrudgingly put his hands up in the air for everyone to see.

"Who are you and what business do you have here at Briggs?" The General demanded, a scowl never leaving her face. Despite the fact that this woman was supposedly the Major's sister, the two looked… different.

Olivier Mira Armstrong was not the happy, emotional, giant bundle of muscle that her brother was. Her blue eyes looked more cold and calculating than kind. Even though Al hadn't gotten to now General Armstrong at all, she was beginning to scare him more than teacher.

Al soon snapped out of his thoughts to respond, "My name is Alphonse Elric. Major Armstrong from Central sent me here to talk to the General in charge of this post," he hoped that answer would be enough to at least prompt General Armstrong to call the guard off.

"If you come in peace with the military, why were you fighting my men?" Was the General's reply. Okay, so she wasn't likely to call off her guards any time soon.

"I tried multiple times to tell them I was here on military business, but they attacked anyway," Al told her the truth. After seeing the General's expression change slightly, and her gaze wander over to where some of her men were knocked out in the snow, Al added, "I have a letter of introduction with me from Alex Louise Armstrong. I can get it out if you'd allow me to reach down for it."

"Search him," Came General Armstrong's curt reply. There was no possible way of hiding the fact that Al was hollow now, so he went ahead and opened his chest plate.

"What the hell?" Briggs soldiers and that Buccaneer guy all gasped at seeing Al's empty inside. Al just sighed, and allowed everyone to move closer in. He removed the letter, and one of the soldiers grabbed it and ran it up to Armstrong. The General grabbed the envelope, but kept her eyes glued to the hollow suit of armor down on the ground. Even though her reaction wasn't as explosive as everyone else's, her glare had become even more skeptical.

"That's the letter I was telling you about," Al called up to her, and watched the General examine the letter, raise an eyebrow, mumble something about Alex, and tear the paper into tiny shreds. That was rude; the Major said he'd used a fancy calligraphy technique to write that which had been passed down the Armstrong line for generations.

"That was definitely from Alex," She said, and tossed the paper shreds into the air behind her. What little wind remained from the earlier storm propelled them upward, into a giant wall Al hadn't noticed before. Holy crap, that was huge! It had to be at least 10 stories tall!

Before Al could express his excitement, another soldier called out, "Sir! This man has a silver State Alchemist pocketwatch!" That's right, Al had never thrown his fake watch away, and the thing had remained inside with the rest of his things.

"Silver pocketwatch, huh…" General Armstrong brought a hand up to her chin in a thinking gesture, "So that's why the name Elric sounded familiar. You're the Fullmetal Alchemist."

Buccaneer and the rest of the men looked shocked, and Al was glad he didn't have a face right now that could emote. He honestly didn't know what to do in this situation. If he chose to pretend to be the Fullmetal Alchemist again, he'd gain access to the fort, but he'd have to keep lying. And at some point, the soldiers in Briggs were sure to figure out he wasn't really state certified.

On the other hand, if he told the truth and said he'd faked the watch, there was no way anybody here would trust him. Sure, General Armstrong confirmed that the letter was from the Major, but other than that, Al had no real proof of identity. He didn't even have a passport.

"Enter, Fullmetal Alchemist," General Armstrong continued before Al had a chance to say anything to her, "I'd like to have a talk with you once we're inside."

With that, the General spun on her heels, her long hair swirling in the wind behind her and hand by the sword at her hip. She walked in a door at her level, leaving Alphonse to be dealt with by the Briggs soldiers. The way she spoke made Alphonse even more nervous; she didn't trust him anyway. Al believed that woman could probably tear him limb from limb and not even stop to bat an eye.

"Come on," Buccaneer glared at Alphonse and gestured him inside with his automail arm. Al closed himself back up and put his hands down for good. Yellow light flooded the air once a door to the fort had been opened, and Al stepped in, hoping he'd survive Briggs in one piece.