Holy moly this got so long. This chapter is almost 4K!

The reference to Gracia is oblique on purpose – that conversation hasn't been shown.

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Posting unbetaed for now.

Song is by Queen. (Not Crazy Frog.)

TW for: transphobic/transmisogynistic language, anti-sex-worker sentiment, references to sexism, slight body horror and references to depression/mental illness.

~25~

Chipping around, kick my brains 'round the floor

These are the days – it never rains but it pours

-Under Pressure

There was a cold breeze blowing over the cliffs, and Jareth stamped his feet and blew on his hands, trying not to glare. "Are you just about done?"

"Shush, Jareth. Unless you want me to blow you up."

"I know something I'd like you to –"

Diana glanced over her shoulder with a chilling look. Jareth shut up – but not for long. One could only stand on top of a cliff watching someone concentrate for so long before it got dull. "Look, you lit a fire in the grate. That's something."

"I haven't done anything I couldn't do better or faster with a matchbook." Diana pulled off the glove with a groan, biting off a loose piece of thread. "I know this could be neater, but it should be working."

"It's not the array," muttered Jareth, in possibly a crankier tone than the situation warranted. "It's the air up here."

"What?" She turned to look at him again, but this time in confusion.

Jareth sighed and rubbed his arms again. "The air," he repeated. "Less oxygen. You're trying to manipulate something that isn't there."

Cold as he was, he had to grin as her face lit up. He loved it when she got The Look – it meant one, that she was being Little Miss Crazy Genius again, two, that they were almost done and three, that he was absolutely getting laid tonight.

"Ok, one more time." She slipped the glove back onto her hand and held it out in front of her, still cautious but with more confidence than she'd had before, then picked up another piece of firewood and chucked it out over the edge in an arc. She snapped her fingers –

-and the air above the canyon detonated with a rush of heat and air and orange light, and suddenly Jareth was on his back and his head was ringing, and Diana was beside him, laughing fit to burst. "It worked! It worked!"

"No kidding." Jareth lifted his head. The cloud of fire was already collapsing in on itself, starving itself to death in the thin air, but that – that – had been a piece of firewood no bigger than his arm. "You really –"

But suddenly Diana's lips were on his, and her arms were around him, pulling him close enough to feel her heartbeat. He kissed her back, running a callused thumb over her cheek. "Wedid it," she whispered breathlessly. "We did it."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

TEN YEARS LATER

There were benefits to being a State Alchemist, thought Will with a smug smile as he pulled his watch from his pocket, letting it swing back and forth from its chain. "See? No delinquents here."

The soldiers guarding the entrance to Eastern Command still looked uncertain. "Why aren't you in uniform, then?" asked the shorter of the two. "It's regulation to –"

"You're not from here, are you?" retorted Will, putting his hands on his hips.

"No," said the second guard, a burly man with a Corporal's insignia on his shoulders. "Sir," he added quickly after Will gave him a withering look.

"First rule of the East, I do what I want." He grinned disarmingly. They still didn't move. The grin faded. "Oh for fuck's sake, get out of the way, you blue bastards. You've got five seconds before I drop you into the ground. Literally."

They exchanged looks, then with trepidation still written all over their faces, stepped aside.

"Thank you." He wrenched open the door and stepped inside. Gripped with curiosity, however, he stepped back a little and pressed his ear to the door.

"…looks like one of those male prostitutes Dan was telling me about…doesn't explain how he got the watch though…"

"Well, that's insulting," murmured Alex in annoyance.

Will just shrugged. "It's not exactly original, is it?" he whispered back. "Now shush."

There was a snort. "Maybe whoever it was gave it to him so he could get in."

"Then we should have barred the way, right?"

"Man, don't stress it. I hear they get up to all sorts of weird shit out here. Besides, East or not, only the higher-ups are going to do that, so best not to interfere."

"I don't get why his hair is green, though. Was he in disguise as a palm-tree? I hear they have those out by the desert –"

Will clapped his hands, a growl starting in the back of his throat, but Alex yanked on his hair and whispered frantically, "No! You're lucky they let you in at all!"

With a huff, Will turned away from the door and headed into Eastern Command, but he couldn't help but whine, "Why does everyone call me that?"

"Because you have questionable fashion sense and too much hair. Now sort out your priorities and please, please behave this time," pleaded Alex, although there was more than a hint of resignation in his voice.

"I don't know the meaning of the word."

"Clearly."

"Ha-ha." Will came to a stop in front of the Colonel's door. It was funny, how his feet knew the way on their own now. These days, though, his face was almost level with the brass numbers on the door, instead of staring up at them with mixed fear and indignation. Then, shaking off the nostalgia, he grabbed the doorknob and barged in. "Hey Colonel! I need to talk to –"

He stopped. Dead. "-You?" he finished in a small voice. Several heads turned to look at him, none of them particularly friendly.

The Colonel herself was seated at her desk, glaring at him and probably ready to turn him into charbroiled Elric. "As you can see, Fullmetal," she enunciated, slowly and threateningly, "I'm a little busy."

Will nodded equally slowly, paralyzed. The man on the leather couch (that is MY couch, thought Will irritably) grinned. "Well, well. If it isn't the little prodigy."

"Fuhrer. Sir." Will fumbled, then saluted, before belatedly switching to the other hand. "I –I –I'm sorry –"

"Do you usually do that?" the Fuhrer continued, eyes gleaming in amusement. "It's a wonder Solaris gets any work done with you interrupting her."

"I – I don't – I just –" he stuttered, before giving up completely, trying and failing to hide the utter embarrassment on his face. He finally managed to gather his senses, looking around the room and trying not to feel quite so overwhelmingly helpless. "Aren't – aren't you – is all of Central Command here?"

"Just about," piped up a familiar voice. Will sighed in relief and looked over at Hughes, who was leaning on the wall by the window, next to Valjean, who looked just about as irritated as Solaris. Well, he hadn't seen Hughes in a while. Small joys.

"I'll just – I'll –" He pointed behind him ineffectually, but then something occurred to him. "You – why didn't you tell me? What kind of sick sense of humour do you have?"

Solaris narrowed her eyes. "This coming from you? I've told you before, at least do me the honour of knocking."

"I would have, if somebody had told me that the president of the entire country was here! Now! Today! A-and you grounded me and everything, so you knew I'd be here –" Will stamped his foot, clenching his fists by his sides. "I hate you. I hate you so much."

"I'm not particularly fond of you right now either, Fullmetal, so if you'd please remove yourself from my presence –"

Mustang held up his hand. "No, no, it's quite good that he's here. After all, I was just about to talk about the State Alchemist assessments for this year."

"You were?" asked Will bemusedly.

"Of course! Since so many of the people responsible for them are here, they'll be performed here rather than Central. As I recall, Fullmetal, you managed to dodge out of yours last year with a broken rib –"

"-three broken ribs –" he corrected under his breath.

"-so this year's is especially important for you. What's your progress?"

Will puffed out his cheeks, thinking hard. He had found some interesting new concepts on his travels, even accounting for the fact that he wasn't about to reveal anything about the Philosopher's Stone. He'd feel a little bad about spilling the beans on the Tringhams, but since they'd been posing as military folks to begin with, they could deal with someone showing up and asking about their plant alchemy. Then there was Lyra, the wind alchemist from Youswell – Will doubted Yoki had mentioned her particular line of research in any of his reports. Or –

"Don't do anything stupid!" hissed Alex.

"Fuhrer? Sir?"

Mustang inclined his head. "Yes?"

"Isn't it possible to assess someone while they're fighting? You know, trial by combat?"

"Combat?" echoed Mustang, a grin spreading over his face. "You'll have to clarify."

"What do you want me to say? Assess me while I'm fighting with alchemy. It's better than poring over another dumb report. Besides –" Will smiled disarmingly at Solaris, who was starting to look quite perturbed, "- I'm not the only one with an assessment due."

The accused pursed her lips. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

Will crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows. "Oh? Are you scared?"

Much to his surprise, there was a smatter of laughter from around the room. Alex, however, didn't seem to share his amusement. "Will, don't taunt her, we've been over this –"

Solaris smirked back. "Not in the least. But don't you think I have better things to do than soothe your wounded pride? You seem absolutely dumbfounded that my world doesn't revolve around you, after all."

"I'm one of your higher-ranking subordinates. I'm the only State Alchemist currently under your direct command. I've just returned from defusing a high-tension situation that could have had severe repercussions for the military." He ticked them off, raising his slender fingers one by one. "And you didn't think a visit from the Fuhrer and…" he checked the room, "…at least seven generals was worth informing me about."

"I didn't know you could talk like that," whispered Alex with awe. Will tried not to preen.

Solaris rose from her seat, eyes flashing. Will unconsciously took a step back. "Whether or not I thought it was worth informing you isn't important. Don't question me."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not going to participate in this idiocy. And before you ask again, I refuse to lower myself to some schoolyard tussle just so you can get out of writing down your research. You're dismissed."

Will tightened his jaw, feeling his eyes sting a little. It wasn't that he ever forgot that Solaris was his commanding officer – but it was awfully easy to get comfortable with the idea of her as a protector and conveniently forget that she had her own agenda. He opened his mouth, ready to say "Yes, ma'am" and make his exit before he was humiliated any more than he was already, when Mustang beat him to the punch.

"Actually, I think it's an excellent idea!"

"…Eh?" said Will at the same time that Solaris turned her head incredulously and asked, "Sorry?"

Mustang smiled broadly as if he hadn't noticed a single acidic word that had passed between the two of them. "Nothing like a good clean fight to get the blood going! And it'll be good entertainment for the troops, too. I'll get a team to set up the parade ground for tomorrow morning."

"Sir, I have to protest –" Diana started, but Mustang held up a hand.

"No buts! It's all settled, and it means less work for you."

"Fuhrer, sir, I'm a flame alchemist."

"I'm aware. We'll keep hoses on hand." Mustang managed to smile even more broadly. "Consider it part of the exercise not to singe anybody but Fullmetal too badly. And Fullmetal, try not to destroy anything too expensive."

"But I –" Will, once again, was at a loss for words. He suddenly wasn't sure his suggestion had been a very good idea after all. But a glance up at Solaris was enough to tell him that, yes, he still really, really wanted to punch her in the face. "I promise."

"Good! Alright, everyone's dismissed. This room's too crowded, and I'm hungry." Mustang got to his feet, dusted off his pristine uniform and gave Solaris a little bow before heading for the door. He ruffled Will's hair as he passed by, much to the teenager's horror – not that Mustang seemed to notice – and then he was gone, followed by a seemingly never-ending stream of blue.

Will scowled after them, fixing his hair and squirming a little as Alex crawled back into position. "Well, that could have gone better," he muttered, looking uneasily back at Solaris. She wouldn't meet his gaze, and instead strode past him, slamming the door behind her.

"Damn," came another voice. "I didn't know Diana actually slammed doors."

Will cringed. He still wasn't alone. "…Hi Hughes." A second later, he was enveloped in a warm, strong hug from behind that lifted him off his feet.

"It's good to see you! You've gotten taller, too – not as much as Elysia's grown, obviously –" Hughes put him down and grinned, poking him gently in the ribcage. "You're still too skinny. You should come visit – Gracia'll help you with that."

Will chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, well, we didn't exactly part on good terms…"

"Everybody makes mistakes sometimes, and it doesn't make her apple pie any less delicious. Completely up to you, of course. And how's the squirt?"

"Don't call me that!" squeaked Alex indignantly.

"Aw, sorry. I like your new look, it's very cool."

Alex laughed at that, moving further onto Will's shoulder from behind his curtain of hair to show off his arrays. "It's all functional too. Look, this is a carbon array, this one's silicon, and this one's water."

"Very nice. You know how I am about alchemy, though. I don't know how you do –"

"I messed up, didn't I?" Will rubbed his arm, not meeting Hughes's eyes.

Hughes was quiet for a moment, then he sat down on the couch, face softening. "It's not your fault."

"Really? Because the Colonel looks about ready to rip my throat out. She didn't even look like that after I blew up that bank in Greeneaves."

"You blew up a bank?" Hughes shook his head.

"It was an accident! Besides, there were bandits in it – and no civilians, before you ask – so overall, it was a win." Will glanced at the door again. "Aren't they going to be expecting you?"

"Nah. Do you have any idea how many people are here?"

"Not the slightest. We missed that bit, remember?"

"What happened?" asked Alex. "I mean, I think I would remember if this was a regular thing."

"You'd think I'd remember!"

"No, you wouldn't." Alex patted the side of Will's face and ignored him, paying attention to Hughes, who sighed and adjusted his glasses.

"It's not pretty. There's a State Alchemist serial killer in Central, and nobody wants to be next. So when the Fuhrer decided to come here for his own safety, about half of Central Command decided they needed to come with him for added security. His, of course."

"A State Alchemist…serial killer?" echoed Will. He slumped down on the couch. "I thought you were trying to make me want to beat her up less," he grouched, somewhat unconvincingly.

"I never said that," said Hughes, before quickly moving on before either of them could comment. "Besides, I'm fairly certain that all alchemists in the area had security sent after them, so it's not like you were left completely in the dark."

Will blanched.

"Is there a problem?"

Alex replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "Not unless you count the fact that my brother is a paranoid asshole."

"I am not paranoid! I just don't like being followed! And they were really, really terrible at it!" Will threw up his hands. "I give up. I blame the Fuhrer."

"Don't say that. He's the Fuhrer, remember? You are, however, allowed to blame his security team. Our whole contingent announced our arrival less than twenty-four hours ago. So, essentially, as the train was leaving."

Will groaned again, leaning his head against the back of the couch. "Great. And now I'm in a grudge match against my own boss."

"Cheer up! It'll be fun!"

"Says you. I hate fighting." At Hughes's slightly confounded look, Will scoffed and clarified. "I do it enough as it is, I don't look for it." Hughes continued to look at him bemusedly. "I don't want to fight her!"

Hughes patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. I'm sure the hospital allows visits after the first week."

"Ha-ha. You're so comforting."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Amestris's military had accepted female applicants into its general population for fifty years, into its officers' ranks for thirty and into the ranks of the State Alchemists (technically and begrudgingly) for almost seven. It seemed like a long time to most people. Fifty years – that was more than a generation, and waves and waves of new recruits had joined up since then, all with the same crude jokes and backhanded compliments readied on their tongues.

Truth be told, Diana didn't think fifty years was very long at all.

"Hey."

Diana ignored the voice behind her, driving her fist into the punching bag in sets of four. One, two, three, four. Stop. Switch. One, two, three, four.

"Diana," Jareth said again, quietly.

"Don't call me that," she replied breathlessly. With a sigh, she steadied the punching bag, dragged the back of her wrapped hand over her forehead, and turned to look at him. "What do you want?"

Jareth raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms.

"I'm fine. I'm angry, I'm furious, but I'm fine."

"Are you really going to fight Will?"

"Of course. Can't disobey a direct demand from the Fuhrer." Even as it came out, though, she could hear the sarcasm she hadn't tried hard enough to hide. "One of us ends up dead, it's – it's that much less trouble. One sec." She walked over the bench and sat down, picking up her towel and wiped her face.

Jareth chuckled. "How long have you been in here?"

"Ever since I walked out of that shitshow."

"You're not blaming Will, are you?"

Diana gave him a sour look.

"It was a misunderstanding, D – Colonel," he corrected himself. "He avoids barracks, he barely uses his desk –"

"He had a security detail. That should have been a big clue!"

"They weren't with him when he showed up, so they probably hadn't connected yet. It was just a mistake."

She grumbled incoherently for a few moments. "You're being reasonable. Stop. I want to punch things more."

"Isn't that my job?"

"Unless you'd like to fight Will for me, then that's not going to work out." Diana smoothed down a stray hair that had escaped from her messy plait. It was hard, figuring out what to do with hair like hers when working out – she'd tried sparring with it loose once. Once.

"You could always talk to the Fuhrer. Explain that you're not comfortable in an alchemy fight –"

"And then what?" she snapped. "A man could back out, Jareth. People would applaud him for it. But I have to be twice as good to be considered half the soldier!" She rubbed the heel of her hand against her temple. "Hopefully Will's smart enough to know how to defend himself. I don't want him dead just because some sadistic asshole thinks it's funny to put us in a death match."

Jareth nodded, but winced a little. "Don't say that. People are listening."

"Fine. Our great and noble leader is putting us in a death match." Diana got to her feet again, tightening the bandages around her hands. "Now leave me alone."

"…Alright. Just don't be mad at Will. Especially not tomorrow."

"I won't be," she muttered darkly, throwing another half-hearted punch at the bag.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Will wasn't sleeping. Alex could always tell, even when – especially when – Will's back was stubbornly turned.

"It'll be okay. The Colonel knows you were just shooting your mouth off. She won't make you do it."

He didn't respond, but his one visible shoulderblade tightened, jutting out in sharp relief. Alex couldn't help but wince in sympathy as it pulled slightly on the red, scarred flesh around the automail port. It had healed long ago, he knew that, but he still remembered the pain written on Will's face during that first year.

"Even if you do fight," Alex said after a moment, searching for the right words, "she won't hurt you. Not on purpose. She wouldn't. She won't."

Will turned over in the bed, looking up at where Alex was sitting on the nightstand. He smiled sleepily and unconvincingly through the strands of green hair that had sprawled over his face, long fingers digging almost imperceptibly into the mattress. "I'm not worried about that. I can take her."

"I believe you." Alex inclined his head. "So what's going on?"

"Just…thinking."

"Thinking?"

Will sighed, eyes unfocused and drifting. He hadn't slept well for a few nights now. "They, uh… I don't…" He swallowed, closed his eyes and tried again. "They thought I was a freak, didn't they?"

"Brother –"

"I know, I know, I'm not s'posed to let it bother me. I just… sometimes I think Gracia was right."

Not for the first time, Alex wished he was at least tall enough to give his brother a hug. "Gracia doesn't know us. Not really. Not properly."

"Yeah, but…"

"But nothing. And don't worry about all the people at Command, either. Tomorrow they're going to see you kick ass."

Will actually laughed at that, but his eyes were still hollow. It hadn't been bad in a while, and Alex prayed to whatever god was out there that it wouldn't get worse than this.

"Will?"

"Yeah?" He was half asleep now, Alex noticed – he might not even remember any of this in the morning.

"Promise me you'll go see Dr. Holland. After this whole thing with the Colonel is done."

"Yeah, sure –"

"Promise."

Will glanced back up at him through his eyelashes. "I promise," he mumbled sleepily.

"Good. Now get some sleep."

It didn't take long before Will was breathing slowly and evenly. Alex sat back against the lamp, and prepared himself for yet another long, lonely night.