Author's note: Thank you to everyone who left a review!

x

Chapter 12

Aftershock

x

Ed stalked into Mustang's outer office, a grim expression on his face. Havoc honestly liked the kid, respected him as an alchemist and a fighter, but all this storming around was reminding him how annoying the young man could get. Jean had just managed to stack all of his folders high enough to camouflage a quick nap when Ed's door-slamming knocked everything all to hell. Hawkeye fixed him with a sharp look over the avalanche of files, and he silently bid farewell to his afternoon doze.

"Did the MPs call you yet?" Fullmetal seemed distracted, and Havoc noticed a livid bruise painted across the kid's face.

"No, why? What's wrong?" Hawkeye frowned in confusion, then cut Edward off as he reached for the General's office door. "He's at a meeting right now."

"Damn." Ed turned on his heel, looking indecisive.

"Edward." Riza's voice was firm, forcing the boy to focus. "What happened?"

"Hohenheim and I were jumped on the way back to the safehouse."

The other soldiers in the office straightened in alarm, but Hawkeye remained impassive. "Were either of you injured?"

He hesitated, "No, not really. Our guard was, though. He got taken to the hospital, but the medics said that he'd be fine once he wakes up. I knocked out the three guys who attacked us, and told the police to contact Mustang's office. Said it was a national security issue."

Hawkeye nodded at Fuery, who hurried out to find out why the message had never made it to its destination. Ever since Central Command was basically obliterated, the switchboards had been acting up; the repairs and renovations should've made them work better than ever, but this was not the first transmission to go astray.

Riza opened Roy's door, nodding towards Edward. "The General should be back soon. Why don't you sit and wait for him to debrief you, and I'll go get you some ice for your face."

Ed touched his forgotten injury, wincing when his fingers pushed too hard. "Yeah, thanks." He settled into his customary seat, a brooding expression on his face. Hawkeye watched him for a moment, hesitating. Something in his eyes made her back off, and she quietly closed the door, returning briefly to hand him the promised ice.

The General strode in fifteen minutes later, idly shuffling through his meeting notes as he walked. He paused by Hawkeye's desk. "Any messages?"

"Nothing urgent. Edward's waiting for you in your office." Mustang's eyebrows shot up, surprised that the boy would be visiting him when they'd seen each other only hours before. Hawkeye continued, concern lurking in her warm brown eyes. "He and his father were attacked. He said they're all right, but…" She trailed off, uncertain.

"What is it?"

"I think there's something else wrong. You might want to fish around." His normally taciturn Lieutenant's mouth tightened in worry.

"Thanks." He handed his folder off to her, mentally girding his loins. Lately, every piece of news concerning Fullmetal had been bad, and he was afraid the trend was going to continue.

The boy was hunched in his seat, an icepack pressed to his face. Roy paused for a moment in the doorway, looking him over. Riza was right, there was something off about Fullmetal.

"I heard you got in a fight." Mustang skipped salutations, closing the door behind him. "Tell me what happened." He sank into his desk chair, steepling his fingers before him.

Edward shrugged listlessly and recounted the attack as briefly as possible, obviously distracted. When he finished he paused, clearly wrestling something over in his head. Mustang observed his internal struggle for a moment, hoping the boy would bring it up without prodding. When the silence stretched on, he tried a little 'fishing.'

"Is something else worrying you?" Roy watched the interplay of emotions cross Edward's face: fear, sorrow, guilt, determination, anger. Mustang leaned forward, gentling his voice as much as he was able. "Is it something I can help with?"

His offer of help seemed to have broken through Ed's hesitation. "You know that Hohenheim's… sick… right?"

Mustang's eyes narrowed, trying to determine if Fullmetal really thought his father was just sick, or if he was using it as a euphemism. Something in the bleakness of the boy's expression told him the truth. "I know he's not just sick."

Ed's hands tightened into fists, fighting to keep the misery off his face. "Yeah. Well, I didn't. Know, I mean. Not until today." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat harshly.

"What happened?"

"It was after the police left, we were walking back to the safehouse. Hohenheim, he just… keeled over. I thought he'd been stabbed or something. He turned all gray, and he couldn't breathe. Fuck, I thought he was having a heart attack." Some of the frightening desperation of the moment colored his words, and Mustang frowned in sympathy. "I got him back to his apartment, and he started to feel better, but he told me… he told me that he's dying."

When he spoke, Roy's voice revealed compassion, but not surprise. "I'm sorry."

Edward took a deep, shuddering breath. "Thanks. Anyway, I was hoping you knew a doctor you could have take a look at him. He wants to keep the immortality thing a secret, but I thought you might have someone qualified to handle top-secret stuff."

Mustang frowned, and tried to be gentle. "From what your father's said, I don't think anything can be done. He was very certain about it."

Ed grimaced. "Yeah, I know. He said the same thing to me. I don't expect him to be cured, it's just… he's suffering. You should've seen him, he couldn't even stand up straight from the pain. Just because he's dying doesn't mean he has to do it in agony, right?" Fullmetal's wide golden eyes searched Roy's face, looking younger and more vulnerable than he had in a long time.

Roy hesitated, sensing a stumbling-block. "Will he agree to treatment?"

Edward nodded. "Yeah, he promised me he would, as long as it was a doctor you trust."

"I'll arrange it right away; you're right, he shouldn't have to suffer."

A weight seemed to have been lifted from Fullmetal's shoulders, though the sorrow still remained. "Thanks."

"In the meantime, I think it's been made abundantly clear that neither of you should go anywhere without guards. Walking in public should be cut to a minimum; I'll have Hawkeye arrange drivers for you. Your brother and Miss Rockbell should also be given protection."

Ed straightened in his seat. "I don't want them to freak out, especially WInry."

"Would you prefer they get kidnapped?" Mustang raised a sarcastic brow.

A petulant frown. "No, of course not."

"Then they'll be guarded, discreetly, and you make sure not to go anywhere by yourself."

Fullmetal scowled in annoyance, but mercifully did not argue. "Damn, I wish these guys would leave me alone."

"We're working on it." Mustang gave a feral grin, "I'm looking forward to finally getting to meet some of them."

x

"Sorry, Boss, they got away." Jean's voice held genuine regret.

"What?" Roy forcibly clenched his hands to stop himself from creating jets of rage-fueled alchemical fire. His men mentally plotted their escape routes in case his self-control failed.

"The paddy-wagon they were in was broadsided by another vehicle. By the time the MPs realized what was up, our suspects had skipped out."

"Damn." Breda's rumbled epithet summed up everyone's thoughts.

Havoc grunted agreement. "Gets crazier than that. One of the prisoners was pretty badly injured in the crash. Instead of dragging him along, the other two bashed his head in. Pretty brutal."

"We're going to have to step up our security measures. Clearly this group is more powerful and resourceful than I anticipated." Mustang growled.

Havoc watched from his perch on the edge of his desk, chewing on the end of his unlit cigarette. "So what d'ya wanna do, Boss?"

Roy paced for a moment, thinking. He'd been weighing his options for days now, but the recent boldness of the kidnappers' attacks had been the deciding factor. "Are you familiar with the myth of the hydra?"

Breda shrugged, not seeing the connection. "That snake-thing with all the heads?"

Fuery just looked confused, so Falman took pity and explained. "In the legend, there was a many-headed serpent which terrorized a nearby village. No one could kill it, because any time one of its heads was cut off it would grow two more in its place."

"In the legend, the only way to kill the hydra was to cut off all of its heads at once." Mustang smirked, rubbing his fingers in a snapping gesture. "To keep them from growing back, the hero had to cauterize the wounds with fire."

Havoc nodded, an answering smile spreading across his own face. "I like where you're going with this, Boss."

Everyone in Mustang's office took to their work with a renewed sense of energy, the kind of energy that could only be found in the knowledge that an enemy was about to become very close acquaintances with the Flame Alchemist.

x

Al struggled to hold on, struggled to stay in the human world. Unable to move, unable to lift himself, all he could do was watch helplessly as 'Father' sent out a shockwave that threw everyone around him to the ground. Edward was flung like a ragdoll; a foot to the left, and he would've been impaled on a piece of rebar jutting from the rubble of Central Command.

As it was, he was knocked senseless by the blow, and Alphonse watched with horror as the insane homunculus advanced on his prostrate brother. Somewhere beyond his field of vision he could hear his real father crying out hoarsely, telling Ed to run. Al joined in, his own voice weakly trying to rouse Edward.

At the last moment the boy stirred, realized the danger he was in; the blue crackle of his sibling's alchemy broke through Al's fading vision. He could feel himself slipping away as a crack edged through the border of his blood seal, as his armor succumbed to the terrible forces it had absorbed. Distantly, he could hear sobbing, a hysterical voice repeating his name.

He turned his head slightly, as much as he was able. "Mei." She held his massive gauntlet in her tiny hands, tears pouring down her face. The sounds of fighting were dying away as his senses dulled, but he forced himself to focus on her face. She looked so sad… "It's gonna be all right, Mei."

Her voice trembled, touched that he was trying to reassure her even as his soul was being dragged away. "Oh, Alphonse."

Resigned that there was no more he could do, fog clouding over his vision, he sighed his last words. "Brother… win."

The physical world dissolved, replaced by the void of the Gate. He saw his own emaciated body sitting before him, some unknown force pulling him towards it like a magnet. It welcomed him, and he settled into his natural form.

He lingered in the emptiness for eternity, or for only an instant- time had no meaning here, for it was a place apart from the world, a place of endless and patient endurance.

There was another presence there with him. It was the grinning figure of god, of truth, of one, of all. Its eyeless face stared at him, smiling. "You again. I see you got your 'contents' back." The figure tilted its head. "You really think he'll come for you?"

Alphonse's voice rang with resolute confidence. "I know he will."

The Truth's grin stretched wider. "What d'ya think he'll sacrifice? His eyes? His heart? His soul?"

A muffled choking noise drew Al's attention. His eyes widened in horror; his brother was crawling towards him, blood dripping from empty eye sockets. He tried to move, to reach out to Edward, but he was frozen in place. Brother spoke, his voice thick and wet, reaching out blindly in front of him. "Al? Al! Are you there? Please… help me." Ed began coughing up blood, still continuing to grope clumsily at the air.

Truth laughed, "This is what you wanted, right? To go home? Well, go on, then." The door at Alphonse's back creaked open, a multitude of black hands reaching out for him, wrapping around him. He was dragged screaming through the portal, leaving Edward behind to suffer alone.

"Brother!" Alphonse woke, not unto the numb whiteness of the Gate, but in his own bed. He sat up, resting his head on his knees as the remnants of the dream faded. He took deep, slow breaths, forcing himself to remember what had really happened.

Edward had never made it to the Gate, Hohenheim had seen to that. Van had appeared, and despite Al's protests, his father had paid the price. He'd allowed the last few Xerxian souls to be drawn out of him, along with his own alchemical power, before gathering his frail child in his arms and carrying him back into the world of the living. He'd woken, naked and shivering in the bright sunlit plaza of Central Command, nearly everyone he loved smiling around him.

That image calmed him; Al wiped the fear sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, realizing belatedly that his nightshirt was already soaked. Grimacing, he got up and changed into dry clothing.

It was late, or possibly very early; Ed was snoring away in his own bed, and Al watched his brother for a few moments to reassure himself that his sibling was safe and well. The attack earlier in the day had left him shaken. Though Ed had tried to pass it off as no big deal, his younger brother feared what it meant. Brother had been so sick lately; what if he wasn't able to fend them off the next time they attacked?

Trying to shake off both his bad dream and his worries, Al wandered into the living room, snagging some of his research texts along the way. A comfy chair, a cup of tea, and some reading should help to calm his nerves.

x

Xerxes lay in the heart of the Great Desert, halfway between the modern-day countries of Amestris and Xing. Believed to be one of the continent's earliest cities to support over a million residents, Xerxes was the most influential population center of its age. Largely peaceful, it boasted paved streets, complex stone architecture, and an advanced economy at a time when Amestris held nothing but illiterate shepherds. It was, in many ways, the consummate success story of early civilization, and it stood as a beacon of knowledge and power for centuries.

Xerxes' prominence makes its decline all the more startling. A kingdom which had flourished for hundreds of years was wiped off the map in a single, cataclysmic event that baffles scholars to this day. Accounts from contemporary travelers describe strange, haunting ruins, devoid of life; a city of millions had become a tomb, a lonely monument to greatness. Some speculate that a virulent epidemic swept through the population, killing everyone it touched. Others believe that a natural disaster, such as a contaminated water supply or poisonous gases venting from the earth, could have destroyed the population while leaving buildings largely untouched. No proof has ever been found to support either hypothesis, and any witnesses who could reveal the truth have been dead for centuries.

Whatever the cause, once a bustling hub of trade and commerce, today the ruins of the city serve as nothing more than a way station along the route between Amestris and Xing, frequented by bandits, refugees, and those superstitious enough to believe the stories of ghosts who linger in the empty streets…

Roy frowned and closed the book; it had told him nothing he didn't already know, and what he did know was almost indistinguishable from fairy tales. Hohenheim could, and doubtless would, explain the difference between fact and fiction, but in the meantime his research was proving frustratingly fruitless. He'd gone through a small mountain of books and scrolls, and none of them were any more useful than what he'd just read.

He cracked his neck and slung the latest disappointment onto the pile, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. The trouble with four-hundred-year-old-mysteriously-vanished-cultures was that they were a damned sight harder to understand than modern ones; if he had a problem with Ishval or Xing, he could easily name off half a dozen people he could contact in a pinch. Xerxes… not so much.

His mantle clock chimed the hour: late. Later than a man with a beautiful woman curled up in his bed should stay awake. He stood and stretched, making his way upstairs. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and doubtless hold its own surprises.

Unfortunately, they would not be pleasant ones.

x

Author's note: This was an important bridge chapter, but I realize it didn't have very much action. I promise, there's a ton more action coming up in the next few chapters! As always, I really appreciate reviews. They help me keep up the desire to write.