Chapter Eleven: Deals
If I only could, I'd make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places.
Kate Bush, "Running Up That Hill"

"I have heard something disturbing on the radio," Major Armstrong said, as Riza joined him in a pretty little library – well, 'little' for Armstrong standards. Riza couldn't imagine this much room for just books, but she still doubted this could be the only area within the mansion for them. She amused herself for a second that this might just be the "A" section, and that other letters had their own rooms, then realized what the major had said.

"I see," she said, "what sort of news?"

"Edward Elric is wanted in connection to yesterday's explosion at the military hospital. It has been implied that he was acting in concert with Flame."

Riza flinched, almost as if struck, and her stomach curdled. "So, it is worse than what the Colonel expected. The brothers need to go into hiding, immediately."

"There is a tunnel under the house," Armstrong said, "which leads to the underground transmutation circle the creature known as Sloth dug. My sister made use of it to get her men from Briggs to Central without attracting attention. As only a very few people locally are aware of the tunnel's existence, not to mention the circle itself, it should be safe for the brothers, their friends, and you to travel that way." He offered to pour her a cup of something, coffee, Riza thought, from the rich, dark aroma perfuming the air.

Riza nodded. Coffee was too precious on a soldier's salary, so she wouldn't turn it down. "Provisions?"

"Already in place, Lieutenant. There is a car waiting. With the addition of the young women, you will have to ration the food and water more circumspectly, but you will have enough fuel to get to Briggs itself, should you want to go there."

"They might expect that," Riza mused, stirring some cream and sugar into her cup and tasting the brew.

"Yes, I agree. As does my sister. She thought you should head south." Armstrong poured himself a cup, adding a little sugar before taking a sip.

"If we could locate Dr. Marcoh." Riza tested her coffee, wanting to melt at the taste of it.

"I have been attempting just that." He sounded gruff, leaving Riza to wonder if Armstrong and Marcoh might have deeper connections than being in the military together. Then again, she was speaking to Alex Louis Armstrong, known for his big heart, not necessarily something the military prized.

"I believe we would have heard if he'd been captured," she said.

"No doubt it would be proclaimed from the rooftops." The cup in Armstrong's hand looked far too delicate for him to use.

Before Riza could respond, a knock came at the doorway, and a man, dressed in black and white, stepped inside. "Sir?" She recognized him as the butler who'd let them in earlier. "I am afraid your plans must be moved up. The grounds have been surrounded, and soldiers, sir, are demanding entrance." His lids at half mast, he added, "They are under the impression you, or someone within this household, is harboring a wanted criminal."

A boom echoed, however faintly, through the house. Riza's hand trembled, coffee splashing her hand. She set down her cup, wiping the hot liquid off.

"I believe, sir, they are now inside."

Armstrong rose to his feet. "Lieutenant, see to the youngsters. Merriweather, go with her. Show them to the underground. If need be, stay there yourself until I come, or my sister comes, to release you."

"Yes, sir," Merriweather said, inclining his head toward Armstrong as he strode to the door. "Good luck, sir."

Armstrong's stern visage softened slightly. "And to you both." He disappeared through the doorway.

Merriweather gestured to Riza. "Lieutenant, I had taken the liberty of moving your dog to the underground. If you would please come with me?"

Riza got up, smoothing her hands over her skirt automatically, reaching behind to tug at her jacket and make sure of her pistol. "Of course, Mr. Merriweather. Thank you."

X X X

Alphonse started awake at the sound of Edward's voice, confused for a second as to why a swatch of dark hair was in front of his face. Blinking, both his vision and his memories cleared, and he recalled enough to know where he was, and that Paninya had lain down with him. "Ed," he whined, "I was sleeping."

"Yeah, and you can't any more," Edward said grimly, "Paninya! Get out of my brother's bed!"

"Aw, just another coupla minutes," Paninya groaned. "We weren't doin' anything but sleeping!"

"We don't have the time!" The urgency in Winry's voice tugged at Alphonse, making him force himself out of the warmth of the nest he'd made in his bed.

"Why?" Paninya knuckled her eyes. "What's up?"

"Fucking soldiers, right outside." Edward gritted his teeth. "Al, there isn't any time to think about this, so you've got to decide, right now." He waved his automail hand at Winry. "Show him."

Her face set in unfamiliar, grim lines, Winry opened her hand, revealing a glass vial, full of ruby liquid.

Paninya cooed, "Oh, that's pretty."

At the sight of it, Alphonse came fully awake, using the headboard to help him sit up. "That's a Philosopher's Stone! Winry, where…how?"

Winry took a deep breath, but Edward interrupted before she even got a word out. "No time, Al. Soldiers are right out there!" He waved at the window. "Are you going to use the Stone, or not?"

"I-I can't, Ed!" Alphonse whispered, clutching the sheets of the bed. "We made a promise…you know why!"

"Yeah, but," Edward lowered his head, the skin over his jaw tightening. "It's your decision, Al, but you have to make it now. I can draw you a circle, if you want some help."

He started to wave away the Stone in protest, but saw his hand. The skin, drawn taut over bony fingers, the delicate wrist, too frail by far. His hand trembled as he watched. Licking his lips, Alphonse focused on the little bottle in Winry's hand. "I don't want be a burden to any of you." He swallowed hard, reaching out to Edward, who took his scrawny hand in his own. "Draw the circle, Ed."

X X X

Kimblee stood back to let the soldiers stream through the doorway ahead of him. The doors were an unfortunate barrier, but truly, it was a shame to see those exquisite pieces of stained glass and ebony crumbled to bits and scattered about the foyer. He supposed that an alchemist might be able to repair what he had done, but if Strongarm was here, well, Kimblee had plans for him. The weakling of the Armstrong family, in more ways than one, Alex Louis could always be used as bait, if necessary.

A woman screamed, and Kimblee turned toward the sound. "Ah," he said, loud enough to carry, "Baumholser, we are not here to terrify the staff." Striding across the marble floor of the foyer, his shoes clicking off the stone, Kimblee clasped Baumholser's shoulder, hard enough to make the bones grate together. "I apologize for his exuberance, madam. Please, you will not be harmed."

The pale-faced woman gaped at him, reminding Kimblee of a fish on a hook, then she darted down a hallway and slammed a door behind her. Kimblee gave Baumholser a shake. "Do not harm any of the staff," he reminded, and released the man by shoving him into the wall. "Remember what I said."

"Yes, sir," Baumholser said, his pasty face flushed pink, though Kimblee didn't know whether it was from embarrassment or rage. Either way, he'd remember, and sooner or later, he'd take it out on someone else. It would be a lovely chain of fury, spreading farther away from the original source. Like a stone tossed into a still pond, the waves would create an ever-widening, joyless circle, encompassing more and more people. Maybe that was what Father had actually wanted – no, he corrected himself, Father wanted something else. It wasn't joylessness, it simply wasn't something Kimblee understood. "May I go, sir?"

Baumholser interrupted his thoughts with the question, but Kimblee waved his acquiescence, letting him dart after the others. Turning slowly in the center of the foyer, he smiled, thinking of a children's game. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he sing-songed, cupping a hand behind his ear to listen. There was a bellow of outrage, and Kmblee nodded. Someone had found Strongarm, over toward the west section of the house. That meant he should go…east, he thought, to see whom else he might be able to scare up.

With a smile, Kimblee headed for the staircase, thinking that the Armstrong mansion was really a lovely, lovely place. He'd have to ask to visit it again, some time, under different circumstances.

X X X

Merriweather led the way through the halls at a pace that made Riza pick up her feet to keep up. As he rounded a corner, Riza paused, frowning. "Mr. Merriweather, wait. The others, the kids, they're in that direction." She nodded down another hall.

He met her eyes coolly. "Yes, ma'am, they are. However, my first responsibilities are to you. After you are safe, I will return to collect the young people."

"That's not good enough," Riza said, speaking soft, so her voice wouldn't carry, but making sure to enunciate clearly, so he had to understand. "My obligations are to protect the Elric brothers, and, subsequently, their friends. You may go on if you'd like, but I must reach them."

A scream, made faint by distance, broke into their discussion before it could escalate. Riza pulled her pistol, widening her stance automatically. Merriweather, she realized, had a gun in his hand, too. "Can you use that?" she asked him.

His eyes twinkled grimly. "My family has served the Armstrongs in various capacities for untold generations. I believe I know my way around a firing range. But I also believe that the Elrics and their companions are resourceful, if they are the same people I've heard so many tales about from my young master."

Hating that he was probably right, Riza nodded once in agreement. "Suggestions as to how to stay hidden while we reconnoiter?"

Merriweather smiled. "Come with me, First Lieutenant, and I can show you how."

X X X

"Paper, I need a piece of paper!" Edward spun in place, searching the room.

Paninya was faster, lunging for a writing desk, jerking the drawer open. "Here!" She shoved a stack of pages into Edward's hands, along with a pen, then scurried toward the door, pushing it nearly to.

The chaos reflected what was going on inside Winry's mind. There wasn't enough time, not to ask Alphonse if he was really ready for this. Stepping aside as Edward leaned on the bed so he could draw a circle on a sheet of paper, Winry tried to make sense of all of it. Alphonse nodded at whatever Edward was saying – she couldn't quite hear him through the buzzing in her ears. Paninya jigged in place, but kept her post at the door, just glancing over her shoulder. Her curiosity wouldn't let her stay perfectly still.

"There," Edward said, satisfied, and held up the page. Alphonse's eyes roved over the drawing. Winry had nearly forgotten that intent gaze since he'd been a suit of armor.

"Got it." Alphonse nodded once, his mouth set.

Winry was struck by the nape of his neck, how soft and unblemished it was, pale, and knobbed in back from the lack of muscles and fat to cushion his spine. "You know what you're doing, right?" she asked, not at all joking.

"Yeah, Winry, I promise." Alphonse smiled, a quick tilt of his mouth. He held out his hands to her.

For a second, she thought he wanted a hug – for luck, for reassurance – but she remembered she still clutched that bottle. Stepping up, Winry pressed it into his palms and retreated, twining her fingers together to keep her hands from shaking.

"I'm ready," Alphonse said. Winry heard Mr. Hohenhiem's voice echoing through his words. Edward shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and she grabbed his elbow. Startled, he glanced at her, then nodded, though Winry couldn't say why. He tugged her closer and pulled his arm free to wrap it around her waist. Paninya looked away from her vigil at the door as Alphonse clapped his hands.

Winry recognized the bell-like tone; the flash, like indigo lightning. This time, the chime extended and the spark caught the liquid inside the vial, igniting it. Ducking her head against the brilliance, Winry closed her eyes tight, but it grew brighter still. The bell continued to ring, sonorous, and drilling into her skull.

"Damn." She heard Edward's exclamation through the vibrations in his chest. Risking a glance, she saw Alphonse, illuminated by the electric blue, shading into deeper purple where the vial rested in his cupped hands. His eyes were nearly green from the light, his skin pale as snow falling in the night. And his body – oh, God, his body. Winry couldn't tell from his face if it hurt, or it was ecstasy. The muscles in his neck stood out as he threw his head back, his mouth open and his lids falling over his eyes, lashes trembling like leaves on a tree. The light swirled around his body, plumping it, a flesh and blood balloon, only Winry could see definition under his skin, the skin itself expanding to fit the burgeoning muscles and fat that a healthy human body should have.

He cried out, dropping against the headboard, but his hips pumped up, and Winry nearly shut her eyes in reaction, not willing to witness that from the boy she considered her little brother. Edward's arm went taut around her waist, his fingers digging into her hip hard enough to bruise. She couldn't look at him, too fascinated by the almost instantaneous changes in Alphonse's form, the way his body rippled and rounded as the light caressed it, seeming to dive under his skin and force it into new shapes to cover the jagged bones, pushing them deeper and deeper under newly-formed muscles. Alphonse swayed, buffeted by the light, his figure charged and changed with each millisecond, so even between the blink of an eye, his body transformed.

The light swirled one last time and vanished, disappearing back into the ruby liquid within Mr. Hohenheim's glass bottle, and Alphonse collapsed sideways, the vial tipping out of his hand. Winry couldn't believe the stuff inside didn't spill away, but remained in a glowing red bubble on the rumpled bed sheets. "Al!" Edward moaned, breaking Winry out of her daze as he let go of her to grab for his brother. He caught Alphonse's shoulders, helping him sit up. "Al, say something!"

Paninya left the door to hop onto the mattress, stretching her hand to caress Alphonse's cheek. "Al, come on," she said.

Winry remained rooted to her spot, thinking her hands had gone numb from how closely she'd twisted them together.

"I," Alphonse breathed out, nearly breaking Winry free from being transfixed, "I'm." He raised his head, showing a face rounded with health and wreathed with a huge grin. "I'm fine!" He yanked Edward to a fierce hug, laughing, then let him go to snatch Paninya against him. She yelped, but wound her arms around him, hugging him just as hard. Meeting her eyes over Edward's shoulder, Alphonse beckoned at her with a tilt of his head, and Winry wormed her way between Edward to reach him, not surprised he didn't quite let go of Paninya to hug her, too.

Winry wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Welcome back, Al."

He let go of her then to flex his fingers, holding them up in front of his face. "Yeah," he said, wonderingly. "This is…no wonder Dr. Marcoh used it to help so many people, Brother!"

"People," Edward mumbled, and it was as if memory struck him like a bolt. "The soldiers. Fuck! Girls, we've got to get you hidden." He headed for a door, opening it, and peering inside.

"Why?" Paninya asked. "Why don't we just bust a hole through the window and get out of here?"

Alphonse shook his head. "There are people here, Paninya; we can't let them get hurt by soldiers looking for us."

"We can transmute the closet," Edward said, waving at them over his shoulder.

"You want us to wait in the closet?" Winry squeaked.

Edward pulled out of it, started to say something. He returned to her and laying his hands on her shoulders. "Yeah. I need…we need to know you're safe."

"In a closet." Paninya wrinkled her nose doubtfully.

"Transmuted. In the shadows in there, it'd be hard to see. And, if something happens, you have that cannon, Paninya." Edward jerked his chin at her knee.

"I thought you said it wasn't that great of a weapon, since I can only use it once." Paninya folded her arms.

His mouth tightened for a second. "Yeah, but you can use it to break out of there, too."

"Ed," Winry wrapped her fingers around his wrists. "You're not going to go fight."

He turned his attention back to her, leaning close enough to press his forehead against hers. "You know what I promised. It still holds."

"Please, Paninya." Alphonse hopped out of bed, offering her his hand.

She squinted up her entire face, her shoulders hunched. "I don't like this idea." Sighing loudly, she went on, "But I don't have a better one."

"Grab your bags," Edward said, "I don't want anyone knowing about you two. And hurry." He squeezed Winry's shoulders, and kissed her forehead fleetingly. She let her hands fall free from him, watching as he turned away to transmute the closet into a hideaway.

"Here, Winry." Alphonse was next to her, and she hadn't even realized he'd moved. His sunny smile dimmed only slightly as he pressed the vial back into her hands, the red stuff back inside of it, reminding Winry even more of mercury, the way it hadn't soaked into the bedding. "I want you to keep track of this. Dad gave it to you; I think you ought to keep hold of it."

Her fingers closed on it convulsively. "You won't need it?"

Alphonse put his arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead, too. "Dad gave it to me to heal, not hurt people. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have it."

Her cheeks heated up, and Winry ducked her head. "You didn't make the same promise as Ed."

"Hey, he can promise for both of us." Alphonse let her go as Paninya came back into the room, her bag and Winry's automail case in hand.

"Closet's ready," Edward announced, and grabbed Winry's toolkit, putting it inside. "Paninya? Winry?"

Wagging her finger, Paninya said, "I really object to this." She thrust the automail case at Alphonse, who took it reflexively. "I can fight."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Will you get in here?"

"Be careful and come back soon," Paninya told Alphonse, catching hold of his nightshirt and hauling him close for a quick kiss. Alphonse's face lit up bright red, his eyes huge as Paninya let him go, a self-satisfied smirk gracing her mouth. "Okay," she said, and took Winry's arm. "Let's go hide."

Winry let Paninya pull her along, thinking back to Scar, and that time in the alley. She hesitated inside the entryway, meeting Edward's eyes. "Be careful."

He grinned, a mockery of his normal cocky smile. "I will. And we'll be back to get you out soon."

"You'd better!" Winry scowled. "Or I'll have Paninya blow out the wall, and I'll come looking for you."

Edward grunted, but his eyes lit up, belying his annoyance. "Yeah, yeah, get in there, Winry."

She stepped into the closet, heading deeper into it, and set down her bag, slipping the Philosopher's Stone into her pocket. Edward met her eyes as she turned to watch him seal off the compartment. He pressed his hands together and touched the wall, and the chime and the lightning erupted at the same time, a new wall forming and closing them in. The last thing she saw was the flame of Edward's eyes, before they vanished behind the wall, leaving Paninya and her in darkness.

"Well, damn," Paninya said.

"What?" Winry nearly stumbled, turning around. She flailed around, finding a wall, and used it to guide her down to the carpeted floor.

Paninya sighed loudly. "I should've peed before I let Ed seal us up in here."

X X X