~10~

Sam wasn't quite sure why she had been dragged with Mustang and the others. Edward and Al needed to be made clear about Ishbalans, and Sam guessed Klara didn't understand anything about it, either. Still, the girl didn't see how she was involved.

Mustang and the rest of his squad, along with the Elrics, Sam, and Klara, were seated inside the room. Sam sat on a desk, facing away from Mustang and staring at the ceiling. Klara stood next to her, watching Mustang with an expression that was both awe and fear. Mustang was the one who was speaking, his face serious and his hands in front of him.

"The Ishbalans were a race of people in the east area who worshiped their absolute one god of creation, Ishbala. But due to differences in religious values, there were frequent conflicts repeated between the two countries."

Oh, Sam knew the entire story. 13 years ago, a soldier accidentally shot an Ishbalan child, and suddenly a war emerged. There was plenty of bloodshed, and the war lasted for a very long time. The Fuhrer finally called in the State Alchemists, and they were tested on the battlefield. As far as Sam was concerned, Ishbal had no chance at that point.

"That is why that man, a survivor of Ishbal, is justified in wanting vengeance." Mustang finished grimly.

There was silence in the room for a couple of moments. Then Edward made a noise.

"That's bullshit." He said. "There's no such thing as justice and crap in getting vengeance on innocent people. He's just wrapping his craving for vengeance by acting like a 'messenger of God' and being all high and mighty about it."

"But someone who despises alchemy is using that same alchemy to get revenge." Hughes stated. "The sort of people who don't care how things get done are the most dangerous… and the scariest ones."

"We also cannot worry about how things get done. We cannot die yet." Mustang opened his eyes just a bit to gaze at everyone else in the room. "The next time we meet, there will be no talk. We'll take him out."

"That's all fine and dandy," Sam sighed, turning on the desk to look at Mustang, "but what the hell does it have to do with me? I'm not a State Alchemist, and yet you dragged me here."

"Actually, I wanted to warn you. If you keep pretending to be a hero and running around like that, someone might get ideas and try to manipulate you into being a State Alchemist."

"Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Mustang?" Edward mumbled, glaring at his superior.

"Fat chance that I'd ever agree." Sam laughed.

"Sam, a State Alchemist?" Klara said wonderingly.

"I'd get privileges, a fat pay check, and access to an endless amount of books. On the other hand, Scar would suddenly be interested in killing me and I'd have to do whatever the state said." Sam looked at Klara. "It's not worth the props, as far as I'm concerned."

"A lot of money…?"

"Quit looking at me like that. I'm putting you to work, next town we hit." Now the girl sat back and put her hands behind her head, as if to lounge.

"Anyways, what are you Elric brothers going to do now?" Hughes asked.

"Yeah…" Ed began to scratch his chin. "I want to fix Al's armor, but I can't use that technique with this arm…"

"Shall I fix you?" Armstrong asked, flexing his muscles after tossing aside his shirt again.

"I'll pass." Al replied.

"I'm the only one who knows how Al's soul is bound to the armor, so first I have to fix my arm." Ed explained.

"That's right." Hawkeye said suddenly. "Now that Edward can't use alchemy…"

"Just another kid with a rotten tongue."

"A bratty little midget."

"Worthless. Worthless!"

"Sorry, brother. I can't say anything."

"That's bullying!"

Sam busted up laughing with Klara. Edward freaked out rampaging around on his seat about how he wasn't a pipsqueak, or whatever long version of the same thing he made. Perhaps it was true, though. Without alchemy, was Edward just a normal kid? Was Sam?

"I guess I have no choice." Edward sighed, exasperated. "I'll have to go to my mechanic."

"Look, I could understand the giant State Alchemist being your bodyguard…" Sam began, an anger vein pulsing on her forehead, "but how in the world have I been coerced into tagging along with you?"

"Beats me." Edward grumbled, seeming just as angry about the situation.

"Aw, come on, Sam! This'll be fun!" Klara smiled. "You wanted to go to a different place, anyways, remember?"

"Yeah, but that didn't involve being ordered to babysit someone who's fine on their own by Mustang when I'm not even in the military!"

"Hey. I didn't want you to be here." Edward protested.

"You didn't want Al to be treated like luggage, and he's in the back with a bunch of sheep, isn't he?"

"He's what?"

A knock on the window interrupted both hotheads, and everyone turned.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" Edward exclaimed.

"Hey."

The window was lifted and Edward and Armstrong leaned over so they could see and hear Hughes better. It made Sam a little uncomfortable; Armstrong wasn't exactly petite. Still, both Sam and Klara squished themselves into their seats as best they could.

"The guys at HQ were too busy to drop by, so they sent me instead. And I've brought a message from Roy."

"From the Colonel?" Edward looked quite perplexed.

"'Post-processing is a bit of a pain, so I will not allow you to die within my jurisdiction.' That's all."

"Tell him I said, 'Roger that, I will not die before you do, Colonel Shit.'"

Hughes got in a few hearty chuckles, and Sam and Klara snickered from their seat. Sam tried to conceal it, but Edward sensed her fun-making and spun his gaze around sharply, zeroing in on her and glaring threateningly. That didn't stop Klara, though.

"Wicked brats are aplenty in the world!" Hughes exclaimed. "You and that bastard Roy ought to live long lives!"

The train whistle blew, and Sam was able to sit back semi-comfortably as the military men showed salute.

"Well then, be careful on your journey. If you pop by Central, give a holler." Hughes smiled.

The train ride was only fairly annoying. It was the second train in a row that Sam had shared with Fullmetal and his brother, and she wasn't sure how that had happened. Klara seemed to calm down around other people, which made Sam a little angry. Why did Klara have to be nice when there were other people? Maybe if she spent her energy on them once in a while, Sam wouldn't have to deal with her.

Armstrong hadn't experienced very much concerning their journey. He asked what Resembool was like, and Edward described it as a mainly rural town with fairly little there. Klara seemed to enjoy the idea; it sounded just like home to her.

Armstrong had never seen an automail mechanic, either, so he was curious as to what they were like. Edward's wasn't just a tuner, but was also a surgeon and a prosthetic harnesser, which Sam understood. A lot of automail mechanics couldn't live on just automail, and so had to dive into similar practices.

"Which reminds me." Edward growled, his gaze cutting into Armstrong. "Why is Al in the back with the sheep?"

The next couple of minutes were full of another bout of fits from Sam and Klara. Al had been placed in a livestock car, treated as luggage. Armstrong seemed to think it was perfectly suitable- Al had company and plenty of space- not to mention it was cheap. Edward did not care how cheap it was. Understandably, he was affronted by the treatment. Finally, Ed huffed into silence while Armstrong continued to take up most of their seat.

Sam began to feel uneasy. She hadn't noticed it before, but it had grown over the extension of the train ride, and now it had become a bit of a nuisance. Calmly, she stared out of the window, trying to pinpoint the cause of her unease, despite the gloves.

"Sam?" Klara spoke up, frowning at Sam. Sam looked down at her.

"Yeah?"

"Something wrong?"

"Meh. I don't think so."

'Not yet, anyways.' Sam thought to herself.

There had been something Sam wanted to do before she left the eastern city with Klara. It would have been nice to explain things to Klara- Sam's ability, as well as why it's important that Klara keeps her mouth shut and listens to Sam. There was no way Sam was willing to babysit when Klara ran around naively. Oh well, there wasn't much to do about it when there were other people around that she didn't want listening in.

"Oh! That's it!" Sam exclaimed, putting a fist loudly into her open palm.

"What's it?" Edward asked, still awkwardly squished against the wall.

"I've been trying to pinpoint this feeling halfway through the train ride." She made her voice many times quieter all of a sudden, making sure that only the people next to and directly in front of her could hear. "It feels like we've been watched for a while."

No wonder she was uneasy. Sam had become extremely paranoid ever since her alchemy had backfired, and some part of her had been convinced that there were malicious people out there who wanted to know more about her and what she could do. Instead of questioning her sanity and checking into the loony bin, Sam had opted to listen cautiously, just in case.

Armstrong took her claim seriously, though, and moved around in the seat, glancing critically about the train car. No one seemed to catch his eye, however, and he sat back down, squishing Edward even closer to the wall. Armstrong shook his head, telling the rest in the seats that he saw no one suspicious. Sam shrugged. Her intuition had never been wrong since the gate. Still, she didn't feel in danger, so she didn't press the subject.

Everyone was sleeping by the time they got to another station. It wasn't the one they wanted to stop at, so Sam opened her eyes for barely a fraction of a second before turning her head over to the other side. Now the unease became a sharp, stabbing pain in her stomach. She avoided it by snoozing, but something was even beginning to torture her dreams.

"Doctor Marcoh!" Armstrong suddenly shouted. "Are you not Doctor Marcoh? It's me, Alex Louis Armstrong from Central!"

Armstrong was leaning out the window again, making Edward uncomfortable… again. Whoever he was shouting to must have run off, according to the sounds Sam heard. She wasn't surprised. She'd pretend she didn't know Armstrong if he called to her like that.

"Do you know him?" Edward asked, curious.

"Yes…" Something seemed to be troubling the large man. Sam watched him for a bit. "He is a very capable alchemist from an alchemic research agency in Central. He took part in research to use alchemy for medical purposes, but disappeared after the Civil War."

Both Ed and Sam gave Armstrong their attention. Klara was still trying to sleep. Edward suddenly stood up, his feet hitting the floor harshly.

"Let's get off!"

"Oh? Were we not to get off to Resembool?"

Sam didn't bother. She woke Klara up and handed the girl her backpack. Then she grabbed her own luggage and got up, following Edward without more than some grumbling. Armstrong followed after them and then went to the back to retrieve Al.

As Sam stepped off the train, she felt her steps hesitate. Quickly, she looked around, brow furrowed. That feeling was still there, and her skin crawled as her brain said that the cause was nearby. Still, she couldn't see anything, even when she focused on where her intuition told her to look. A small step took her closer to what might have been the source…

"Sam?"

Sam turned curiously to Edward, who seemed rather impatient.

"What?"

"Something wrong?"

"You had a very intense look a moment ago." Armstrong commented.

"I didn't mean to."

"Well, whatever. Let's go! I wanna find Marcoh."

Edward strode away surprisingly fast for someone with such short legs. Sam followed after. Armstrong seemed worried for a couple of moments, glancing curiously at Sam, but she didn't return his gaze, so he became preoccupied with Edward's efforts to find Marcoh. Klara was the only one who seemed to remember Sam's strange behavior.

Armstrong turned out to be a great help during the search for Marcoh. He was a skilled artist, and he bragged that it had been passed down in his family from generation to generation. Sam wasn't sure why, but Armstrong tended to say this about any skill he happened to have, from his alchemy to his sketching.

After Armstrong drew up an incredibly accurate picture of Dr. Marcoh, the townsfolk immediately recognized him and began to describe him. Apparently, he wasn't known as Marcoh anymore, but was instead called Dr. Maulo. Sam suspected this was a result of Marcoh changing the pronunciation halfway through his speech. Maulo helped the people of this poor town with their unhealthy and wounded without asking for money or any kind of compensation, which was a great help to them. He was diligent and helped even those who were supposed to be laying on their deathbeds. One comment from a young woman informed all four that Maulo used alchemy in his treatments.

"So he took a fake name and hid in this village. But why did he run away?" Edward asked as they approached Maulo's house.

"When the doctor disappeared, I heard that some important, classified files also disappeared. There was a rumor that he stole them…" Armstrong said slowly as they climbed the steps to Marcoh's front door. "He might have thought that we were agents from his agency."

They stopped at the landing in front of Marcoh's door. Klara was interested in what Marcoh looked like since she hadn't seen him from the train, so she was intent upon the doorway as Edward approached it. Sam could feel a headache creeping up the back of her neck, and she recognized the feeling she got just before having a very strong vision. Nervously, the girl checked her gloves were still all the way up.

"Hel-LO." Edward said as he opened the door to the house, the second half of the word rising to an unnaturally high pitch.

A gunshot went off sharply, and Sam had to pull herself and Klara out of the way so that Edward could back away from Marcoh and his gun. The elderly man's hands were shaking as he held the gun, pointing it directly at the alchemists. For some reason, he was terrified.

"What did you come here for?" Marcoh shouted.

"Please calm down, doctor." Armstrong pleaded, but Marcoh talked right over him.

"Did you come to take me back? I don't want to go back there! Please! Just let me be…!"

"That's not true. Listen to what I have to say."

Sam could feel the headache begin to pound away at her head. Edward and Klara were more concerned with looking between Marcoh and Armstrong, both of whom were wrestling for control of the conversation.

"Then did you come here to silence me by killing me?" Marcoh went on.

"First, put down that gun."

"I won't be fooled!" Marcoh shrieked.

"I said calm down!" Armstrong exclaimed, throwing the box Al was held in on top of Marcoh, much to Edward's surprise.

"I couldn't bear to do it," Marcoh continued later, when things had calmed down and the alchemists had proceeded inside to sit down, "Even though it was an order from above, to be made to dirty my hands on it… It was truly a horrible battle. Too many innocent bystanders died."

Sam sat in her chair with her arms crossed, trying to keep a face of neutrality on. But the headache was slowly chipping away at her sanity, and her arm prickled with annoying needles, as if it had fallen asleep. Her mind wasn't completely there, where Marcoh and Edward were. The memories and feelings in Marcoh's house were so strong that they were starting to bleed slowly through her glove.

"What I have done are things that cannot be atoned for by just taking my life."

Sam was wearing a mask. She swirled around a flask of red liquid, examining the contents within intently. The rest of the room was dark and blurry to her.

"Even so, I am acting as a doctor here for as long as I can."

"Just what did you research and what did you escape with?" Armstrong asked. Marcoh responded with a pained face.

Sam was handing them over to the big brass. Three little red stones that could end this war. Still, there was unease in her stomach. Was this all worth it? Could she bear the weight of the lives these would help take- of the lives they had already sacrificed?

"I made the philosopher's stones."

She had to run, to get out. Panic made her heart beat too hard against her chest as she came to realize that she could not take it. There was probably no atoning for what she'd done.

"Sam?"

Sam turned to look at Klara, though she somehow seemed very far away. Just now, the girl noticed that her breathing was harder than it should have been, and her right arm felt raw every time she shifted it against her chest.

"You don't look so good." Edward commented, worried.

"I'm sorry." Sam rose from her chair, leaning on it briefly before finding her balance. "I'm not feeling very well, so I think I'll wait outside."

She tried to proceed to the door calmly, as if she was just feeling a temperature coming on, but…

It haunted her every day. The terror that she would be found here, in this little nowhere town, where no villagers could pay for a doctor. Not that Sam cared. Anything that would take her even a little ways closer to redemption, even if she knew she would never reach it, was enough. But that haunted feeling… She could see their faces almost clearly now; the faces of the ones who might find her one day, and take back what she'd stolen.

Sam's metallic arm convulsively grabbed her right one, and her flesh arm immediately protested. Klara got up quickly from her chair, following Sam with speed, but caution, and the two proceeded outside, Klara closing the door behind them. Sam didn't stop at the landing, though. She continued down the steps and began walking away from the house. Anything to get away from it. She couldn't stand this.

The faces became even clearer, particularly one. A female's face, with a dark allure. But there was an alarming sense of danger in Sam's mind as she saw this. The emotion simply said 'run'.

"Sam, where are you going?"

"Anywhere." Sam said harshly, still grasping her right arm tight. "Just away."

Even the town was permeated with Marcoh's feelings. Of course. He had been everywhere, treated almost everybody, and each treatment was filled with the darkness of his past and the vain wish for some sort of redemption. Sam would not be free of the torture of the Truth until she left this place.

"But what's wrong? Are you sick?"

"You could say that."

"…Sam? What's wrong with your arm?"

Sam looked while she stumbled. The glove had slipped down a little, showing that the skin had become various, blotchy shades of pink and red. She was even physically reaction to this torment. Tenderly, the girl pulled up the glove again and continued on.

The two reached the train station, and that was where Sam stopped. She could go no further without abandoning Edward and the others. Klara walked nervously around Sam, her steps lighter than usual, and sat down next to Sam, on her less sensitive side. A grey dog came up onto the platform and amused Klara for a few moments before coming to Sam. Whining, it nudged her flesh arm, causing Sam to cry out.

The dog once had a broken leg. Its mind had been consumed with pain before a bright flash of light came and took the pain away. This dog loved the man who had come with that flash of light.

"Shoo! Get away from her!" Klara stood up, suddenly taking an aggressive step toward the dog. Said dog yelped and scampered off, wondering what it did wrong. Klara sat back down, looking worriedly at Sam.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sam?"

"It's fine. It's just pain, and it'll pass. Oh, that's right." She opened her eyes with the memory. "I was going to explain some things to you. Oh well. We'll have to talk later. I can't very well be bothered now."

Sam turned her head and looked as she saw a dim train pull up to the station. Out walked Marcoh, which caused Sam's brow to furrow with what little energy she had. Marcoh looked around, then was drawn by the sounds of someone in distress. He rushed over to help, and Sam watched as he took out a small vial full of red liquid. There was a flash of light, and she saw the relief on his face.

Well, that was odd. As the image faded away, Sam reflected on how she had never watched something in third person before. The prickling sensations began to dim down, and Sam took interest in the phantoms running around the platform.

Edward, Armstrong, and Al- in a box resting on Armstrong's shoulder- came back to the platform eventually, and seemed relieved to find Sam, although she apparently looked worse for wear.

"Ah, Sam. There you are." Armstrong said, and Sam cracked her eyes open to look at him before returning to her former position.

"Wow, you really look sick." Edward commented.

"Are you ok?" Al seemed worried.

"Is it contagious?" Ed suddenly took a step back as the thought struck him.

"No, it's not contagious." Sam said faintly. "And I'll be fine. I just…"

'I just need to get the hell away from here.'

"I just need some rest, is all."

"Are you sure we cannot help?" Armstrong persisted. "There is much medical knowledge in the Armstrong line, I'm sure I could find something to relieve you somewhat."

Sam bit back a sharp remark. Klara, seeing a hint of Sam's anger underneath the pain, glared at Armstrong, surprising and confusing him.

"No, that's fine. I'm going to deal with it."

"If you say so." Armstrong huffed.

Armstrong set down the box with Al in it and sat down next to Edward, who had seated himself next to Klara. Klara didn't want to touch Sam, for fear of hurting her, so Klara, Edward, and Armstrong were all seated a little too close to each other. Edward was the only one who seemed to mind, as he was squished in the center. Sam wouldn't have been aware of it if Klara had touched her at this point. Her mind was quickly slipping into darkness, with only vague voices making it through.

Shieb: I didn't intend for this to be as long as it was. Oh well. Anyway, this is based around the end of Chapter 7 and the rest of Chapter 8 in the comics. Someone requested that Sam hang out with Edward and Al for a while, so I took the opportunity. Hope you're happy! ^_^ She'll be staying with them for a little longer, as well, so there's more entertainment coming.

I thought about the eighth chapter in the manga and realized that Sam wouldn't be able to do much, thanks to her Ultimate Truth thing... Marcoh wallows in his hatred of himself every day, so those feelings and emotions must be all over the town. I hope it's an interesting chapter, despite this.