WOLF

"Stay down."

Wolf does as his sister asks, keeping perfectly still and playing dead. Slowing his breathing until it's barely noticeable, relaxing his muscles.

His ribs smart beneath his vest, and the chill of the leaking blood pouches runs across his skin. Between the cold of the congealing blood and the metal of the phone booth digging into him, he sorely wished that he could move.

But from the very beginning of his memory, he trusted his sister. And he trusted her now.

There's a crackle of energy, and the muffle of another two shots. He cracks open his eyes and has to hold back a wince at the cloned corpse of Maes Hughes sprawled across the flagstone next to him — the image of two very real bullet holes in his chest.

That could've been him.

He shuts his eyes again, allowing another of Raina's transmutations to crawl across his uniform, peeling off of his skin and leaving him as naked as his clone.

If the situation wasn't so dire – and if Raina hadn't been the one to cut his umbilical cord and literally raise him – he would've been embarrassed. But as it was, he merely extracted his vest from the pile of fabric and used a marker tossed his way and a hint of alchemy to create a pair of pants for himself.

By the time he was pulled together Raina had manuvored – somehow – his double into the same position he 'died' in, another crackle reforming his uniform around him.

He had a thousand questions, and a million more worries, but Wolf knew that they needed to get out of there. They needed to go, and then Lauren needed to show up at the shop in time for the military to notify her of the death of Maes Hughes.

And then it hit him. Maes Hughes was dead.

It was … it was just him. It was just Wolf, now.

Because Maes Hughes was dead.

It was liberating.

They ended up in a back alley slum, and Wolf found himself thankful that he was no longer in uniform. What with the number of Ishvallans in the slum, the Amestrian blue would've made him stand out in all the wrong ways.

Raina made her way surely, clearly having come before. She picked her way through the smaller camps, belining for a cardboard lean-to in the darkest part of a dilapidated corner.

He waited to speak until they were inside.

"It's a transmutation circle," Wolf speaks, his voice low. "The whole country. Ishval, Liore, the Southern conflicts – "

"I know," Raina cuts him off, passing him a small plastic case. "Put these in."

Wolf opens them, looking at a pair of contacts. Black, prescription too he'd bet.

"You were prepared."

His mouth felt dry.

Raina merely nodded, and he slowly complied. By the time he'd blinked them into settling, she's pulled out a pair of scissors and passes him a shaving kit.

Oh. So they were doing this.

Raina's arm was linked through his, her fingers gripping his leather jacket, and they were walking down the street as if he wasn't a dead man.

And in a way, he wasn't.

The brisk night air was sharp on his chin, where his facial hair was a thing of the past. Raina had trimmed and slicked back his hair, and between the new style and his contacts he looked far more traditionally Xingese than he typically did.

Wolf didn't stand out, and that was the point.

They avoided the scene of his 'death' anyway, not wanting to risk it, and continued due south. Pulled out of the sketchier neighborhoods and into the nicer family housing district.

God, he was never going to see his wife and daughter again, was he?

"You have some explaining to do," Wolf informed his sister dryly, shedding all of Maes' mischief and enthusiasm. "A lot of explaining to do."

"I can't tell you everything," Raina shoots right back, barely even wincing at the accusation in his voice. "But what I can tell you is that all those documents The Man didn't read and the reports he didn't write? Were very telling if you're as sceptical of governments as I am."

"And how did you know where to find me?" He pressed, eyes narrowing. "That I even needed to be found?"

"I'm your sister, dufus," She elbowed him. "I always know when you need me."

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

"What's the plan?" He switched topics, eying the empty street distrustfully. "We need to tell Roy."

"You need to stay dead," Corrected Raina, her tone allowing no argument. "You're our ace in the hole. You're too smart, too versatile, and too damn good at lying to be targeted again. I'm sorry, but you need to die."

"Hence why you saved me, but allowed Maes Hughes to die," Wolf frowned. "I can never see my family again, can I? If … that thing realizes that I'm alive it'll kill my little girl. My wife."

Raina was silent. It was rhetorical anyway. He knew the answer.

"That thing. He turned into 2nd Lieutenant Ross. Turned into Gracia," His heart jumped at the memory. "Bastardized alchemy, but it would've taken far too much power to use just a simple array."

"You and I both know what kind of boost would be needed to shapeshift," Raina's nostrils flared. "And you and I both know what the cost of a boost like that would be."

Wolf's stomach sank. That's what he was afraid of. But –

"And how do you know?" He asked, jutting his chin. "That's not exactly something you find in a civilian library."

He only knew the truth about the Philosopher Stone because of the Elrics.

Raina's lip twitched, and he knew her well enough to read the annoyance in it – not at him, but at whatever was keeping her from telling him.

"You know that I'm not keeping things from you because I want to," Raina sighed. "You know that. I promise, once it's safe I'll tell you everything."

Well, god knew that Hughes' were as stubborn as they come. And that was her final answer.

"Always protecting me, aren't you?" Wolf commented lightly, pulling closer to his sister as a car passed them. "Fine, you overbearing thundercloud. What can you tell me?"

"In the bag I packed for you," Raina nodded to the pack slung over his shoulder. "It's a list of people you can trust, and a list you can't. Not only that, but as much as I could get my hands on about Alkahestry. You're going to need to learn as much as you can, as fast as you can."

"Alkahestry?" Wolf echoed, glancing at his rucksack. "Xingese alchemy?"

"Kind of," Raina frowned – not liking how vague the setting forced her to be, he'd bet. "There are also papers. You need to go down into hiding, learn alkahestry, and develop as wide an information network as you can. Pull on the … well, the cult following."

"You got me papers?" He repeated, stuck on that little detail. He dug his hand into the pack, searching for a wallet or a folder. "What name did you give me?"

She didn't have a chance to answer before his hands landed on an envelope and he pulled it out, surreptitiously checking the street before he opened it.

Rey Wolf Lawrence.

Wide eyed, he turned his gaze to his sister.

"And one last thing," She stopped. "In a month, you need to make your way to Dublith and find a butcher's wife named Izumi Curtis. You can trust her. Tell her everything."

Then she pulled him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, before she turned and left him in the street.

They never were ones for goodbyes.

ROY

Roy didn't know how she did it, but Hawkeye managed to get the job to notify the family passed to him.

(No idea how, and the truth probably involved a gun and plenty of bullets, but he couldn't bring himself to care.)

This was his job. His.

He went to Gracia's first.

And she cried – oh, she cried. And Elicia didn't understand, was confused what her Uncle Roy was telling her. But Gracia pulled herself together – had to, because she was a single parent now and Roy knew about how hard that was. Dammit, Madame Christmas had his sisters and it was still hard, and Gracia …

Gracia had Lauren. Raina.

Roy excused himself, and Gracia understood. She was Maes' wife, the mother to his child, but Lauren was …

(Maes' world revolved around his sister, his wife, and his daughter.

Raina's revolved around Maes.)

He allowed himself to be driven there, the top brass insisting that with Scar still active he couldn't go anywhere alone. And certainly not after his best friend had died.

(His best friend had died.

His best friend was dead.)

They pulled up to the Timber Wolf. Roy pulled his best 'Colonel Bastard' face to force the lackies to stay in the car.

She deserved to be able to … to react as Raina, not as Lauren.

The store opened late on Mondays, and today was no exception. Whenever he visited, something he'd done more and more in recent years, he would simply let himself in and find her sprawled across her couch reading some dense tome. Maybe still asleep over a pile of order forms.

But he couldn't burst in, not today. So he knocked.

A patter of footsteps. A creak as the door opened only as far as the chain would allow.

"Mr. Mustang," Lauren greeted him, and he had to savor this tiny moment. The modicum of normality.

"Ms. Hughes," His voice caught on her … on Maes' last name. "There's something you need to hear."

Lauren slipped away as Raina came forth, her face falling flat and wary as she undid the chain; the door opened wide for him, but it took a concerted effort to move his feet.

From the way order forms and sales logs were scattered, Raina stayed up all night computing again.

"Yesterday …" Roy swallowed roughly. "Yesterday night Maes …"

He couldn't continue.

"Maes … what?" Raina repeated, tilting her head. "Maes didn't do something stupid like lose a bet did he? I told him that gambling isn't fun if you drive your family into debt."

His mouth was dry.

"Oh, c'mon Roy," Raina's smile grew forced and nervous. "He crashed his car and owes a bunch of cenz in damages, didn't he? Or you asked him to take in the Elrics again and they trashed his place and left before they could fix it. No, I know, he –"

"Died."

Raina freezes.

"He died," Roy repeated, squeezing his eyes shut. "Raina, he died."

"No," She shook her head. "No, you're wrong. He didn't die."

"Raina –"

"No, he didn't die because he has a wife and daughter," She cut over him, loudly. "He's fine, because he's doing really well with Intel and he started another manuscript and Elicia just turned three and –"

And she was crying. And he felt like crying.

He felt like shit.

"How?" She gasped, hands clasped over her mouth. "Roy, how?"

"Gunshots," He forces himself to say. Words he hadn't yet said. Raina gave out another sob as he continued. "He was attacked, tried to make a call to me in a phone booth. It got through … it got through just as he …"

He couldn't say it.

She sat down heavily on the couch, looking as if she'd gone numb.

The air thickens with silence.

"Did I ever tell you why I call myself Raina?" She finally speaks, and her voice is so thick he can barely understand what she's saying. She clears her throat.

"No," He tells her. Was curious once, more than once, but she had never told him.

Now didn't seem like the time.

"Our … parents were, well," She tilted her head, brushing a hand at her eyes. She didn't need to say it, Maes had ... Roy already knew. "And I realized one day that they had never called me by name. I didn't even know if I had one."

She swallowed roughly, clearing her throat again.

"And I said 'fuck that' and chose one for myself, because I knew they never would," She pressed on, teeth gritted. "And I chose Raina for the rain – the rain that made everything okay and I was happy, god I was so proud of myself."

Roy … didn't know where this was coming from.

"And when Maes was born I knew that he was never gonna get a name from them," She scrubbed at her face. "And I decided that he would be my responsibility. My kid. And he would get my love."

Raina gave him a watery smile, and Roy couldn't stop himself from stepping forward and taking her hands in his.

"And I named him Maes," She sniffed, eyes shining. "And I loved him so. Much."

And then it was raining.

Because both of their faces were wet, and … and there was no other reason.

RAINA

Roy left soon after. Neither one of them were really hardwired for emotion, and she'd just pushed him to the limit.

Pushed herself to the limit.

Conjuring tears for Maes wasn't difficult, wasn't even hard. It was just channeling all the fear and doubts she had for twenty years into a single concept.

'What if I failed?'

And thinking that over, the nightmare that haunted her for decades, well …

Tears came easy.

And she felt guilty, for lying to Roy. But with the number of eyes on him, it was necessary that he react exactly as he was expected to. Raina didn't know everything about what led up to the Promised Day, but she did know about Pride and Envy and Lust and all their little surveillance tricks.

Eyes were on Roy Mustang. And that was dangerous.

Lauren closed the shop for today, and she was sure that the gossip was going to make a couple thousand distorted rounds before the day was up, but it was to her advantage. Everyone would speculate how a mentally challenged woman would be able to run a store on her own – because, clearly, her brother was the one doing most of the heavy lifting – and then when Gracia took over it would seem logical, seamless.

No one would question, only gossip.

Except for Gracia.

That would take a bit of explaining.

GRACIA

"You're not going to stay, are you?" Gracia asked her sister-in-law, staring down at the grave of her husband as her three year old daughter exhaustedly slept in her arms.

"No," Lauren replied, voice soft. "No, I'm not."

Gracia couldn't tear her eyes away from Wolf's grave to look at her, but she didn't need to. She'd known Lauren for eleven years. Known Raina for five. She knew the way that her sister-in-law's eyes would be just slightly vacant, her jaw set. How she would curl her fingers into fists that dug into her thighs. How she would look so much like Maes.

"I'll take care of the shop," Gracia tells her, even though she knows that when it comes down to it, Raina doesn't give a damn about the shop. "And you can …"

She trails off. Unsure.

"I don't know if I'll need to die …" Raina exhales slowly, audibly. "But if I need to, I won't let you wonder."

And then she walked away.

Elicia began to stir, after that. Whimpering into her chest, and she just shushed her.

Because her little girl needed to rest before it hit her. How she lost not just a father, but an aunt, too.

Gracia suddenly felt very, very alone.

"I love you, Wolf," She told her husband's grave. "And I'll raise her right. She will know how much you loved her, I promise."

And then she walked away, brushing off Roy's heartbroken gaze as she left him to mourn in his own way.