FATE

Roy couldn't bring himself to say anything when Hawkeye fell to her knees next to him. The scene before them was mesmerizing in its horrible beauty. The deadly purple fangs of the void were reaching up past the incapacitated eye in the ground. Amid it all was Amelie. Her eyes weren't like his anymore. He couldn't even see them for the light that shone from behind. Her arms were outstretched towards each pole of the eye and she was pulling the blackness into her hands where it was seemingly extinguished by her purifying glow. The eye was fighting her. It shuddered but her immoveable poise kept the transmutation contained. The fission funneled into her. It shrank, the hiss of shed energy seeping out like geysers. Lightning bolted upwards from the rumbling ground but never hit a mark; the arc of it was pulled inward before it was able to do damage. Amelie was bringing everything into herself.

The eye shrank, screaming and whining in protest. Smaller, until it was barely as wide as her outstretched hands. Her arms folded inwards at the elbows as though she were pulling weights; her muscles were taut, body shuddering in exhaustion. The closer her hands came to her own chest, the smaller the eye became. Inches away, everything just seemed to give and those bloodied hands pressed flat against her chest like the tension had been cut which was holding them back.

Roy and Riza were thrown back several feet from where they'd been kneeling by the release of energy and shockwave that originated from his sister. The white hot light dissipated and he searched for anything to tell the story of what had just happened. Dust and debris clouded the floor and air in front of him. Broken bits of ceiling fell to the shattered ground and echoed in the silence.

A shadow was cast in the swirling dust. Masculine. Back on one knee and arm pressed tight against the half-healed wound, Roy watched as the unmistakeable form of Roderick towered over the supine, limp outline of his sister on the ground. Guns cocked. Roderick's masses were advancing; some lay strewn and shrouded by dust on the ground but were beginning to move. Roy's forces were bloodied, beaten. They were in no position to continue the fight. A gun was inches away from Riza's temple in his peripheral vision. Another, a shotgun, racked directly in front of his sweaty forehead. His teeth clenched. Amelie had saved the world but hadn't been able to defuse the threat.

"Roderick! Do we shoot?" the young man in front of Mustang yelled. The shotgun was shaking.

Roy looked past the kid to see Roderick eyeing Amelie at his feet. He was pale, eyes wide and brow furrowed. He didn't look like a man who'd won. He looked lost. And those eyes were haunted.

"Sir! Do we shoot?!"

This was it. His life was in the next word of a maniac. Grimacing, he looked into the young man's eyes. He would die head on. He knew who would be waiting for him at the Gate. It wasn't going to be cold or lonely. It wouldn't be terrifying.

"Stand down," Roderick's voice was strained, rasp, "It's over. Let them up."

"You heard him; stand down!" Naomi reiterated.

Roy watched the guns lower, one by one. The men and women under Roderick's command backed a pace or so. Some bore a sigh of relief, others a warped brow of confusion. He tried to stand but it was only his Captain's assistance which enabled it. Even then, he was unsteady. A figure hurried by while Roderick slowly moved closer. Dividing his attention between Havoc as the Lieutenant fell to his knees by Amelie's side, and Roderick as he came within arms reach, Roy grit his teeth and tried to straighten.

"General Mustang: I surrender myself to you."

Of all the things he'd been prepared to hear, that phrase hadn't even made the list, "Whatever your game is, I'm not playing," he growled.

"No game, General. I'm simply doing what she wanted me to," his hand outstretched and in it, Roy saw the familiar glean of his dented pocket watch. Hawkeye reached across the space between them and reclaimed the token.

Roy looked over Roderick's shoulder at Havoc and his sister. Havoc was trying to gently shake her awake to no avail. He stifled a cough that wanted to sear at his lungs and reawaken his injuries. The man kept still, "Captain, place this man under arrest," he ordered.

She surreptitiously handed off his pocket watch, "Yes, sir."

She let him sit down as she pulled a pair of handcuffs from her belt and latched them to their new prisoner's wrists. Many of Roderick's followers looked to each other in confusion. Roy could feel the tension. Their leader had stood down. Would they?

"You heard Roderick," Naomi called out from the sidelines, "Lay down arms!" she raised her voice and set the example, putting her rifle to the ground. Another thick moment passed before the clatter of guns, one after another, filled the cavernous space.

Havoc had gathered Amelie in his arms and walked closer, bringing her to the safety of their troops. She was limp. Her cheek and hands were still covered with his blood. Havoc laid her down tenderly on the concrete and stood again, drawing his sidearm protectively. Roy yanked his glove from his hand with his teeth and pressed bare fingers to her neck. A pulse. Small, weak, and so very precious.

Roy was only slightly aware of his battered soldiers moving forward into the dusty scene to survey the carnage and secure the weapons of the men and women who'd laid them down. Across the way, a flurry of coughs and sharp inhales came from the dusty shadows. Armstrong was the first over and knelt next to a man. Roy couldn't see Armstrong's expression, but his movements were tender, gentle. Dust continued to settle. Looking across the way, Roy recognized that mop of dark brown hair. The man squinted to look across the distance at him.

"Roy?" he asked.

The voice, those bright green eyes, that face…

"Maes?"

Maes Hughes got shaky legs under himself. His own military pants were wrinkled, missing the jacket, and the white shirt showed the dirt which had already accumulated.

"Amelie?" Maes asked, moving closer and taking a knee facing Roy.

Roy could only reach over and take his friend's hand. How? What had Amelie done? What was this? Had they all died? No, no he still felt the discomfort of his wounds. This was real, alive, living. Maes didn't seem too rattled and started to check Amelie for a pulse. The older man met his eyes again and gave a soft smile, apologetic in nature.

"I'm sorry, Roy, but you're going to have to fill me in here. What happened?"

"Maes?" was all he could repeat.

"Yeah, and why is Amelie here?"

"You…you're here."

"Where else would I be? Did you hit your head or som—"

"I got another one!" Fuery called out from across the vast expanse.

"Two more over here, sir!" Breda called out; Roy couldn't even see him for the still-swirling dust and disbelief which clouded his vision. Another one? Two more? What were they all saying in hushed whispers? Hawkeye strode closer, her steps practiced and just as precise as always.

"Sir, it seems that Brigadier General Hughes isn't the only one to come back," her voice was level even if her eyes were still wide with astonishment.

"Brigadier General?" Maes's furrowed brow was almost comical.

He didn't know he'd been dead? No, no he must have thought nothing was out of place until now. He knew he was a Lieutenant-Colonel and the jump in rank was the first thing to set off alarms in his head.

Still standing patiently, Roderick looked around and surveyed the masses which were showing themselves from the darkness. He looked down to Roy and swallowed back uncertainty, "Your sis - she said she needed everyone back for her idea to work, so they could anchor her."

Roy noticed the relation which Roderick had barely caught before continuing, "You were there with her?" he asked.

"I was. She asked me to pass on a message: she said I was bound to her, and that she needed me unharmed to do her work."

Roy looked to Maes. Maes looked to Amelie before meeting Roy's weary eyes. He could feel his lids drag. His breath shudder.

"Sir?" Hawkeye prompted, walking closer.

"How…how many?" he managed to ask.

"Eight, sir. Eight of ours. More of theirs."

He remembered seven soldiers had died trying to bring her back to that lab, and Hughes made eight. Seven soldiers just following orders. Now, that was erased. The deaths of Roderick's team were undone. He cast his eyes down to his sister, still unresponsive and slack next to him; blood was draining from her ears, her nose. This was her doing. She'd done the impossible.

What had her toll been? Roy clutched her listless hand. That ivory skin was cool in his grasp. His friend saw the gesture and placed a hand on his shoulder. He was comforting Roy, when it should have been the other way around. Names, faces and ranks flashed through his memory. He tried to stand with Amelie in his hands, but his wounds were too fresh. He sank back to his knees with a hissing gasp. Havoc swept in to cradle Amelie instead, and Hughes braced him.

"Captain Reynolds?" Roy shouted out against the quiet confusion.

A single figure stepped forward from the seven who'd only just been brought back. Like his case file had shown, he was a young man with a hooked nose and shaggy brown hair. Blue eyes, tall, slender.

The young man's eyes landed on the stripes of Roy's shoulder and he quickly stood at attention. Roy waved the formality away, "At ease. Are all your men accounted for?" he asked, pulling himself up again to stand with one hand on Maes' shoulder to steady himself.

"Yes, sir, General…?"

"Mustang."

"Yes, sir, General Mustang."

Roy felt his lungs spasm and he coughed, arm wrapped around his gut and the pressure building up there. Maes noticed the fresh blood and cursed.

"Shit, Roy, you need to get to a hospital."

Hawkeye was next to him and she offered a soft, apologetic smile, "You and Amelie both need to get to a hospital, sir."

Roy stood straighter and looked to Havoc, "Lieutenant? Get her to safety. Captain - fetch the Fuehrer and ask him to meet with us. He needs to know what's happened. Lieutenant-Colonel, get all of these people situated at Command; we'll debrief them there."

Havoc, Hawkeye and Armstrong went about the orders. Roy sat down and let Maes prod at the wound; his friend pulled away soaked fabric to see the bullet wound and whistled in appreciation. Roy couldn't help but smile. The pain was manageable. His doubts were distant. All he could think of was that young woman who had accomplished this. Did she know? Had this been her plan? She was alive, but not awake. Had she given life to get it? Even then, the dead could not be revived. That was a fact. A fact she ignored. That smile still on his face, he looked to Maes.

"It's good to see you, Hughes."

Havoc sat in the rickety chair; his elbows and forearms were braced upon his thighs and he'd doubled over to hold his heavy head. The white of the sanitary hospital encompassed everything. It seemed the only color was the blood on his own person. It wasn't his. It was the General's and Amelie's. Mustang's wounds were no longer life-threatening, but the wound hadn't been fully staunched by Amelie's alchemy. On the ride here, he'd tended to them both. Applying pressure. Wiping blood from her face and neck. She'd still been bleeding from her ears when the doctors had carted her into a critical care room.

His mind raced. Her alchemy in him was missing. He couldn't feel her. And, with what had happened, he truly just felt numb.

A hollow set of steps forced Jean to abandon his search for Amelie's fate. His heart beat against his chest like a bird against a cage. The doctor's face was jagged; thick lines of constant worry and work bit into his tan skin. Suddenly, Havoc didn't want to know anything. He'd rather be stuck in theory than face the fact of Amelie's fate.

"Lieutenant Havoc?"

"Yes, sir," he forced his aching body to stand even though his hands clenched at his sides.

"I'm Doctor Alexander. General Mustang sent me. He requests that you stand watch over Miss Rochester until he is discharged."

"Of course."

"Good, then. Follow me," the doctor turned and walked slowly down the hallway. Havoc fell in step next to him while he spoke, "Right now, Miss Rochester is unresponsive. The bleeding from her ears has stopped but we can't say why it happened in the first place. All of her vitals are strong. There's no medical reason we can find as to why she won't wake up. For now, all we can do is make her comfortable."

"So, she's what? In a coma?"

"Apparently so. My team and I must admit we've never encountered an alchemist like her before, so we don't have much to go on."

Jean sighed, "There are no alchemists like her."

The doctor offered an appreciative smile, "So I've come to learn," he showed his credentials and waved aside a presidential guard stationed at Amelie's door. Walking in, Jean saw her motionless body swathed in stiff cottons. Her white hair had a small streak of ebony in it, barely more than a few strands. Like a porcelain statue, she slept on.

"You are welcome to remain here with her."

"Thank you," Jean spoke softly; his feet led him to her bedside. On a hard chair next to her bed he sat and took her hand. His other hand he placed on her forehead. He'd only just found her…

Fuehrer Grumman's military shoes clacked against the floor. Ignoring the salutes from passing soldiers, his brisk pace was heading towards a place he hated being summoned to. The hospital. It meant danger. It meant loss. And with what hung in the balance, he pushed away the thought of his granddaughter on a deathbed.

He brusquely opened the door to the hospital room. General Mustang and his granddaughter were quick to stand at attention and he waved aside the formality. Seeing his granddaughter unharmed, his mind switched gears. Sure that it was only the three of them in the room, he sighed, "I have dead people at Central Command who need to be debriefed. Start explaining, Mustang."

The General squared his shoulders. The ensuing tale made Grumman sit silently in a chair. He kept his gaze to the floor while Mustang explained exactly why those soldiers, and Roderick's own people, were alive and well. A fantastical tale to be sure. A cloud of secrecy among it.

"Where is she now?" Grumman asked as Mustang ended his monologue.

"Room eighteen, down the hall, sir."

"Is anyone with her?"

"Lieutenant Havoc."

"Why?"

"He and Amelie were familiar with each other," Mustang grimaced. Whether it was the pain of standing stiff or the fact of their familiarity, Grumman didn't care. His mind raced and he looked between his granddaughter and her commanding officer.

"No one else sees her. Not even you two. I'm posting my guards on her. Havoc needs to leave her side. We need to come up with a debriefing and we need to hurry it up. Any ideas?"

"An undercover mission, sir," Hawkeye spoke up. She'd been characteristically quiet until now.

"Explain."

"Maes Hughes and the seven of our soldiers were tasked with infiltrating the terrorists. When it became too dangerous, Amelie erased their memories to protect them. She's talented enough to accomplish that without much a second thought. None of them remember what happened before they died. It should be an easy enough story."

Grumman looked to Mustang, "You have any ideas?"

"No, sir."

"Fine. I'll work up the brief. No one talks to our people without me present. Mustang, your team has to keep quiet until we figure out how each of them plays a part. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sir, Brigadier-General Hughes won't accept that explanation," Hawkeye stated softly.

"You propose we tell him the truth?"

"Only him."

"Fine. Anything else I should know?"

Mustang nodded, "Amelie's entire case file, and her correspondence with Hughes, is in my office. If you see fit, it would come in handy to exonerate her from her criminal record."

"She'll be exonerated, of course. That case file doesn't exist. It can't. It'll shed too much light on what Bradley and his ilk were doing." Mustang nodded and Grumman noticed the tension in his shoulders drop away. Exhaling deeply himself, the Fuehrer shook his head, "What do we do about Roderick's people?"

"Roderick knows what happened. So do his men who were there. The only way we can control what they say is by bargaining their cooperation with a lack of prison time. I don't think we have any other options. Roderick can be tried for treason and locked away."

Grumman nodded at his granddaughter's assessment. He stood and gave another long exhale, "Mustang, stay here until you're discharged. I'll handle as much as I can without you. Amelie will remain under guard. Your team will be confined to Central Command until they're debriefed. I'll have the dorms made up for them. No one, and I mean not even you two, can see Amelie until I get this handled."

"Sir, if she wakes up in a military hospital under guard, she will try to escape," Mustang said quickly.

Grumman sighed again, "Fine. Havoc can stay with her. No one else. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Turning his back on the two, he composed himself before walking out into the hallway. His guards stood at the opposite wall and saluted when he appeared. Gesturing with his hand, he spoke softly, "You, with me. You two, you're to stand guard at room eighteen. No one can come or go until I say so."

Maes Hughes paced the room. He'd been moved, without explanation, from the hospital where he'd been checked out by a doctor, to a dormitory at Central Command with MPs stationed outside his door. There was time missing. He remembered kissing Elysia goodnight before heading back to the library to check on what the Elric's had mentioned. But then there was nothing. He couldn't remember the library. He couldn't say how he'd gotten to be at Roy's side. And the way the MPs had hustled him around made his skin crawl. Something bigger than just him was happening and it irked him to no end that he wasn't privy to it. More alarming was the fact that Hawkeye had called him a Brigadier-General. He didn't remember the promotion. That wasn't something he'd forget. Jumping two ranks?

The door opened and Roy walked in alongside Grumman. But their ranks were different. Roy was the Brigadier-General and Grumman wore the rank of Fuehrer. Maes saluted.

"Don't," Roy said quietly.

"It's not necessary," Grumman added.

"Roy, what is going on? I've been here for three days without any answers. What happened?"

The two men looked at each other and Grumman nodded to Roy.

His lifelong friend sighed, "Sit down, Hughes."

"No, damn it! Why am I under lockdown? What the hell is going on?"

"Amelie brought you back from the dead, Maes."

His heart stopped and he could only stare at Roy. He wasn't joking. The air was suddenly heavy and his head swam. He searched his memories. There was nothing that even remotely hinted that he'd been...dead? Had it been sudden? Painless?

"Gracia and Elysia? Are they okay?" he asked frantically.

"Yes, they're fine."

He sat down on the cot and turned his eyes to the floor, "Dead?"

"A lot has happened. I can't tell you everything, but I can tell you that it's been a little more than two years since you were killed."

"Killed? By who?"

Roy remained silent. Maes nodded understandingly, "What can you tell me?"

"Amelie showed up in Central two weeks ago. Terrorists were bombing buildings and their agenda was to wipe out the state alchemist program and take me down along with it. Their ringleader set off a transmutation that would have killed thousands and Amelie stopped it. In doing so, she brought you back from the dead. We don't know why. She's in a coma. The only reason you can know this is because we didn't think you'd buy the official story that'll be fed to the others who came back with you."

Maes brow furrowed, "How many did she bring back?"

Roy remained silent again.

"I must impress upon you, General Hughes, that you cannot repeat any of this to anyone. It's strictly classified information. The official story is that you were sent undercover in order to infiltrate the terrorists. Your death was faked to protect your family. When your mission was completed, Miss Rochester was instructed to erase your memories to prevent culpability for any action you took while undercover," Grumman said quietly, "Should you wish to resume service, you will retain your rank and be reinstated with back pay. Your family will continue to be protected by the military no matter what you choose. If you choose to pursue a civilian life, your family's benefits will also continue as if you had retired at the rank of Brigadier-General. The choice is up to you."

"Can I see my family?"

"Soon."

Maes scoffed, "I've been dead for two years. I guess another few days won't make a difference, will it?"

"I'm sorry I can't tell you more, Hughes," Roy said.

"Can you answer me this: did you get yourself a wife yet?" he smiled tiredly.

Roy smiled back at him and shook his head, "It's good to have you back, Maes."

The jail was cold, the bars frigid. Roderick sat there on the stone bench and didn't seem the least bit surprised that Roy had come to see him. Alone and far away from the general population of the jail, the alchemist seemed content in his fate.

"How did you know about this pocket watch?" Roy asked sharply, standing as straight as he could and looking down his nose at the man; the cold silver was clutched in his palm.

"Amelie transmuted me through the Gate. While we were there, she gave it to me and said you needed it to accomplish your goals."

Roy could feel his chest rise and fall and his teeth clench, "What made you stand your men down?"

"She told me I could help heal this country."

"Is that so?" he scoffed.

"I was a State Alchemist during Ishbal under the command of General Raven. My wife was Ishbalan. My family decided to stay behind after the fighting started. When others learned of her marriage to me…they killed her and our children. In my grief, I resigned and tried to perform human transmutation. Truth took my memories as a toll for my arrogance. My mission was misguided. I believed you had killed my family. Your sister restored my memories with the hope that I would atone for what I had done. The least I can do is honor her wishes and repent of my…many…sins."

"What did she do at the Gate?"

He looked down to his cuffed ankles, "I can't explain most of it. She said she needed everyone back to help anchor her; that Truth had given her life and she could give it back. She touched the Gate, touched Truth, and she...became them."

"She didn't say anything else to you?" Hawkeye interjected.

Roderick's eyes met hers, "She said that, if she didn't do what she did, that we would all be tormented. Truth mentioned something about her debt outweighing her coffers; she did it anyway.".

They all remained quiet for a moment. Roy unclenched his fist and stared at the frozen time piece, "You're to be put on trial for treason. When you're found guilty, your sentence will be commuted from death by firing squad to life in prison without parole. In exchange, you can never tell anyone what happened under the library. Do we have a deal?"

Roderick nodded, "It's the least I can do."

"Let me be clear: if it weren't for Amelie, you would be dead already."

"I know. I owe her my life."

"You're damn right you do."

"If ever I can repay that debt, I will."

"You can sit here and rot for all I care."

"It's more than I deserve, General."

Roy was silent. He couldn't think of anything more to say. The man was resigned and accepting of his fate. Nothing more could be taken from him.

Roy stepped out of the black military vehicle and Hawkeye came around from the driver's side. Inhaling deep and steeling himself, the General walked up to the familiar door. With his Captain at his side, he knocked. It took a moment, but Gracia Hughes opened the door and Elysia was with her. The child had sprung up quite a bit in the past two years and looked more and more like her father.

"Uncle Roy! Auntie Riza!" she squealed, running forward and giving them both a tight squeeze.

"Hello, sweetie!" Riza smiled back.

"This is a pleasant surprise; please, come in," Gracia moved aside and they all shuffled forward.

Roy felt the tingle of nerves in his gut when she offered him to sit and allow her to make snacks. At his polite refusal, the Captain offered to play with Elysia in her room and the young child gladly accepted. That was when Roy noticed the sudden seriousness come over Gracia, her eyes fixated on him. He waited until Riza and Elysia were upstairs before he took a deep, steadying breath.

"I see this isn't a social visit," she lowered her voice, sitting on the couch.

"You're correct. I'm here on official military business. Please understand that what I'm about to tell you is highly classified and must never be spoken of again."

"I understand."

"Did Maes ever tell you that I had a sister?" he asked while taking a seat opposite her. When she nodded, he steeled himself, "Her name is Amelie Rochester and she was referred to as the Soul Alchemist when she was labeled a fugitive some years ago. She fled Amestris and Hughes kept in contact with her up until..." he cleared his throat, "She returned when the terrorists hastened their attacks. She covertly assisted me in taking them down. To do that, she had to sacrifice her wellbeing. However, it had complicated repercussions," he had to pause, suddenly afraid that everything in his mind was wrong, and he was about to reap untold devastation on this woman. Clenching his fists on his knees, he looked directly into Gracia's eyes, "Maes came back."

The woman blinked and her eyes began to water up, "Maes..."

"We don't know how she did it, but she did. The official story is that Maes was a part of a covert operation to infiltrate the terrorists that culminated in the final showdown. Only you and your Maes will know different and it must remain classified information."

Gracia covered the bottom half of her face and started to lose her tightly reined control. Her eyes were downcast and tears were starting to overflow. His own throat was tight as though he were just now letting himself believe the divine intervention. He pushed himself to continue, "He doesn't remember dying, but he knows he's been gone for two years - there wasn't a gap in his mind. There aren't any adverse effects that we can find. The Fuehrer is making sure he's honorably discharged and retires at the rank of Brigadier General, and your family's well being will still be the responsibility of the military."

"Can I see him?" she whispered.

"He's in the car."

"Elysia?"

"I think it best she believe her father was simply doing undercover work."

She nodded with a thin, happy smile. Without a warning, she reached across the coffee table and embraced him. He could feel tears against the collar of his shirt. He smiled and returned the hug; she was softly thanking him, trying to compose herself long enough to deliver the news to Elysia. Roy let himself join in the smile, replying that he was really alive.

Gracia hastily pulled away and wiped her tears from her cheeks. Trying to smile, she called out to Elysia. The happy footsteps barreled down the stairs and along with them came Captain Hawkeye's. Holding her daughter's hands, the woman tried to explain the simple concept to her daughter. With his nod, Hawkeye went outside to retrieve his friend. Mustang wasn't able to hear any of what Gracia said only because his attention was riveted to the impending emotional reunion. If Amelie had know this would happen, she would've wanted to see it. To take it in. The least he could do was that. The sound of the door opening was quickly drowned out by the child's cry of 'daddy' and the flurry of movement. Standing, Roy watched both of them rush to his friend. Hughes instantly dropped to his knees and Gracia and Elysia went with him. She sobbed and Maes put an unabashedly passionate kiss to her lips before kissing Elysia on the head not a moment later. The man was crying, laughing and enjoying every moment of the reunion. Roy's eyes caught sight of Hawkeye; she had her hands half over her face in silent wonder. When her chocolate eyes met his, he found his own vision blurring behind water.