Lust prided herself on her intellect. She was pretty, yes, but above that, she was cunning. That's why it was so frustrating when, even after 3 days of investigation, she still had little idea of where one of the very, very valuable sacrifices had run off to.

"Brat probably got himself killed, you heard the brother's report," Envy shrugged. They had sprawled themselves across a couch, seeming to have little concern about how much this threw a wrench in the plan. "We'll get a new one, we still have time."

"You know as well as I do that that's easier said than done, Envy," Lust ran a thoughtful hand through her hair, twirling it around one of the curls, her brain scouring for any misplaced details. Her lips worked themselves into a frown. If she had the ability to age, she may have worried about the furrow in her eyebrows causing wrinkles. "No, something about this feels… Off."

"Or maybe you're just not as smart as you think you are," Envy grinned. "Really, Lust, being outwitted by a couple of humans is not a good look."

"And what are you doing to help? Father's going to be just as furious at you if he's not found before The Promised Day."

"Pshh, that's what? 2 years away? If he really was kidnapped, the police will probably find him by then or something," They waved their hand nonchalantly. "Did you try having your dog track him?"

"To do that we need something that belonged to him, and there's no guarantee his scent is strong enough."

"Still worth a shot. Break into his house and steal a shirt or something," Envy shrugged. "The police suspect they're in the city, after all. They couldn't have gone far if they want to keep him alive, he's probably on all sorts of life support after losing that much blood."

Lust paused. Envy was a nuisance, and mostly stupid, but they did have their occasional bright moment. "Gluttony!" She called.

"Lust?" He lumbered up from where he had sat in the corner. Some blood dribbled down his chin, an unsightly remnant of the person he'd been feasting upon.

Lust smiled. "We have a job for you, it's very important." She paused. This did bring up the issue of how she was going to get something that belonged to the alchemist, though. She needed something airtight, that was sure to be his, lest they end up tracking the wrong target. They didn't have that kind of guarantee if she broke into his apartment willy-nilly, and grabbed something random…. But wait, they didn't need to track Fullmetal himself, someone who had been with him would also do. And they just so happened to have a house full of stuff belonging to a suspect. She patted Gluttony's head. Maybe this investigation was going better than expected. Human's were, afterall, stupid creatures. She knew there was a hole to be found in their plan. She was going to catch it, and bring the sacrifice home long before The Promised Day.

Riza Hawkeye was somebody who compartmentalized. When there was an issue, she addressed it as logically and professionally as possible. When that meant killing someone, she did it without hesitance. When that meant suppressing her memories of Ishval so she could sleep a little better at night, she forced them down with every ounce of strength she could muster. But when that meant comforting the grieving family of Edward Elric, knowing that their suffering was, in some part, due to her own negligence, she was unable to think as clearly as she would've liked to. She was slipping. Bit by bit, day by day, and she couldn't afford to do that. With everyone else in disarray, she needed to be there to pick up the pieces. It was the least she could do.

The night it happened was the hardest, but the days after hadn't been any kinder.

Winry had sat in the Colonels office for about 20 minutes now, her head in between her hands, sobbing as Riza broke the news. At first she was in disbelief, refusing to accept what she had been told, but as Riza shared more details, she only grew more hysterical.

"I think that's quite enough," The old woman-Pinako, told Riza. She rubbed a hand down Winry's back, who seemed to not even notice. "Spare us the rest, for now. I assume there's an investigation?"

"Yes, we're working on it," She nodded curtly, before her gaze fell upon Winry. Something constricted in her chest, and reached up into her throat. She was never great at comforting others. A part of her wished that Alphonse had done this himself, but he was even more engrossed in the investigation than she was. Ever since that night, he hadn't stopped searching. He didn't even really want them to tell Winry, but, when pressed, wouldn't say why. He refused to talk to Mustang's team outside of investigations, and rejected seeing a therapist when asked. Winry was their best bet at comforting him. She was the only person Riza suspected he could relate to. "Ms. Rockbell, I'm aware that you and Fullmetal were close-"

"We are close!" She yelled between sobs. "Don't talk like you've given up on him when it's only been a few days!"

Riza swallowed. "Right, apologies," Riza had to stop herself from fiddling with the hem of her shirt, a nervous habit that she was convinced she kicked years ago. "Just know that we are looking for him, with all the resources we can spare. We're going to get him back, but-"

"But what?"

"There's a chance it may just be a body," Riza wasn't a liar. She didn't want to supply this girl with false hope when reality was likely to be far harsher. "We're going to look, and we suspect the kidnappers would not let him die easily, but… He lost a lot of blood, Ms. Rockbell."

Winry only stared. Her eyes were puffy, and Riza wondered if she should offer her some water. "But he's not dead," Winry's hands balled, and her eyes became more glossy. "This-This is Ed we're talking about. He survived losing a leg, he can survive getting shot in one, right?"

Riza really, really hoped Winry was right. "That's what we're betting on, Ms. Rockbell," She offered her what she could of a smile, meant to be reassuring, but it barely grazed her lips. It felt wrong, to be the one to comfort Winry, when she was to blame, at least in some part. "That aside, I do have a favor to ask."

Winry snapped up. "What is it?"

"We need you to talk to Alphonse."

Winry threw her a inquisitive look.

"He's… He's taking this as badly as you'd expect. He won't talk to any of us, for good reason, but it's concerning," She frowned. "We're unsure of how to help him."

Riza felt bad for putting this on another kid, when, as an adult, she should handle this herself, but he wouldn't talk to anyone. All he offered were leads when he found them, and sassy remarks under his breath when anyone tried to bother him. He'd grown cold to any support from the team. He refused to speak about anything that wasn't finding his brother. They were out of options. He was angry at them, refusing any help, and they didn't have the legal authority to make him help himself. All they could do was kick him out of the building after hours, encourage him to take some time off, and hope he did, but she was sure he just spent nights investigating on his own. Riza knew what he was doing. He was trying to be strong for his brother, to right what he sees as his fault, but it wasn't his burden to bear alone.

Even if he wouldn't trust those words when coming from Riza, she really hoped he might from Winry. She may not be able to understand the grief he was going through, but she knew what it was like to force yourself to be strong. She knew how tiring it was, how it shredded you piece by piece, until all you wanted to do was lash out and scream. And damn it all if she was about to let him end up like her.

"Alright," Winry broke the silence with that one word, and an aggressive wipe of her tears. "Where is he?"

Being in the library with Mustang could only be described as suffocating. Al tried, really tried, to not show how upset he was at the man. He knew that this was his own fault, that he hadn't protected his brother, that he hadn't stopped him from leaving the office even when he had been warned. But that was just it. Mustang had warned them, but he didn't tell the truth. He lied to them, and potentially cost Alphonse his brother in the process. As much as he wanted to forgive him, forgive his team, and accept all the burden on himself, he just couldn't do it. He was so angry- angry in a way he hadn't known he could feel. Even with most of his rage and grief directed at himself, there was so much emotion that the rest had to go somewhere. And Mustang's team had gotten the overspill.

He couldn't stop it from seeping out in little ways- avoiding them, saying he was too busy to talk, telling them to leave him alone when they asked if he wanted to. Where his brother was an unforgiving storm when he held a grudge, Alphonse was an erupting volcano's poisonous ashes. Far less flashy, but likely to kill you before the lava will. It infests every crease of a room with a suffocating drawl, filling your lungs with the sensation of cold death, hard to see, and impossible to escape. And with Mustang at the other end of the room, even though he was practically out of sight (And, since that night, Alphonse suspected he had been avoiding him as well), Alphonse wanted nothing more than to yell at him like he did before. He wanted him away, out of his memory, where the painful reminder of what happened couldn't touch him.

But that wasn't an option. Mustang and his team were the best bet Alphonse had on locating his brother, and that was more important than any rage he held. So Al sat there, in miserable anger, scouring files for even the smallest hint of where Ed could be.

He didn't even notice Winry until she was standing over him. Her usual imposing force was much more gentle, marked by messy bangs and soft, puffy eyes. There was a glimmer on her cheek that he knew to be a tear mark.

"Al," She began, and his stomach sank a little. "Do you want to talk?"

Al stared up at her. "Thank you for asking, but I'm fine." He tried to even out his voice as much as he could, to cover the bitterness that crept into every syllable, and focus his mind away from its previous thoughts. It looked like she knew what happened, and he cursed Mustang's team for telling her, as selfish as that was. There was no way she wouldn't blame him for this- No. Winry would never blame him. She'd never scream at him for letting this happen, in the way that he deserved- that he almost wanted her to. Instead, she'd cry, and she'd try to help him, and that was almost worse.

"Al."

"Winry, I'm fine. I just need to keep looking. I'll find him, I swear, I-"

"Alphonse," Her tone was stern. "Al, come on, you need to take a break. You and I both know you haven't had one in days ."

"Winry, I can't ."

"Yes, you can," She grabbed his arm. "Come on."

"Winry, you don't understand, I'm the only one who can work on this without getting tired. I need to do this-"

"No, you don't," She looked down at him. "Ms. Hawkeye talked to me. The police are on it, half the military is on it, you need to take a break," Her eyes seemed to plead. " Please . I want to find him as much as you do, but you're important to me too-" She cut off, her eyes becoming glossy, and she gripped his armor tighter. "Please, Al. You're important too."

"It's my fault, though," He focused on the notes in front of him, as if scanning them for the 50th time would give him more answers. "I'm the reason we're in this mess, I can't stop looking, even for a second. I can't- I can't give up on him like that."

Winry stared for a moment, the tears in her eyes welling up, and threatening to spill over the edges. "Quit that!" She slammed her fist on his shoulder, rattling him in the process. "Quit being an idiot! It's not your fault, no one is blaming you! You and Ed always do this, anytime something goes wrong, you put all the blame on yourselves like you're the only ones who have made mistakes, like- like you don't trust us enough to ask for help!" The eyes of everyone in the library had turned to them, and he spotted Mustang among them. His stomach churned, and he switched his gaze back to Winry.

"Winry, I-"

"3 days, Al," She hiccuped. "He's been missing for 3 days , and you didn't even call. We didn't know anything was wrong until his boss told us to come."

"I'm sorry," He knew it was a pathetic excuse, and he tried to suppress the shake in his armor. "I was afraid- I'm sorry."

Her face softened into something unreadable. "Al," She blinked, and another tear ran down her face. "Please, talk to me, for once."

"Okay, just not-" He spotted Mustang once more, the man's lips downturned into something unreadable. Al looked away, and down to his shaking hand, trying to will it into being still again. "Just not here, and I'm bringing these files with me."

She let out a steady breath. "Fine."

The walk back to Winry's hotel room was an awkward one. She kept giving him looks of concern, and he'd given up on trying to convince her he was fine. A part of him was sick of trying to. He couldn't sleep, but he was so tired. Every aspect of his soul felt nauseated and exhausted. It was times like this that he wanted nothing more than to rest and escape the world, and he missed his body the most.

"So," Winry was the first to break the silence. "Why won't you talk to Mr. Mustangs team?"

"It's-" Al clenched his fist. "I'm mad at them."

"Have you tried talking to them?"

"Not really, but- It's not that easy, Winry. I know I shouldn't be, I know this is my fau-" She threw him a look, her hand positioning itself near the pocket where she kept her wrench. The threat was clear. Keep talking like that, and you'll get a taste . "They lied to us," He sighed. "It's petty, and I know I should get over it, but I just can't. Everytime I talk to them, it just reminds me of how dumb I am, of how easily this could have been avoided." He kicked a rock, his boot scraping grossly against the concrete below. "It's not fair, to them, they didn't want this to happen, but I just can't bring myself to care. He's my brother, and they- They could have prevented this. They could have warned us."

He knew he was being difficult. He was a horrible brother, and a horrible person too, apparently. Winry's expression was only readable in the small pinch in her eyebrows, more thoughtful than anything. "You two are always so stubborn," She laughed a little. "You never say what's wrong, and your grudges last forever, yours especially."

"They do not! I'm super forgiving!"

"Mostly," Her smile teased him. "You've always been weirdly patient, too. It's almost scary sometimes."

"That's because I need to be level-headed to balance out brother's crazy," He mumbled, and his chest constricted a little. He's felt empty, for the past few days, like a piece of his soul was missing without Ed by his side. "And I'm not scary. I'm very approachable even with the armor, thank you."

Winry laughed, and Al had a feeling he'd be flushed right now if he were able to. It was nice to see her. They'd barely talked since his brother and he had left to find the philosopher's stone. He found her company comforting, despite its pretenses. As suddenly as her giggles had begun, they cut off, and her footsteps slowed.

"Al," She stopped walking. "You know that.. You know that none of us blame you, right?"

"I know," Everyone had been drilling it into his head ever since that night. "But.." But it was hard not to blame himself. Winry studied him like she knew exactly what he meant.

"Do you remember when we were kids, and we all got lost in the woods?"

"Oh yeah, and the town had to organize a search party."

"By the time they found us, it had only been a few hours, but Ed had already started crying, and then you did too, and then you both tried to act like you weren't just as scared as I was," She shifted beneath her bundled winter coat, and her tears dried against the frigid breeze. "You two were such an open book, back then."

Yeah, he guessed they were.

"When you're a kid, everything just feels so much more simple, and yet so much bigger," Winry's voice was tinted with nostalgia. Her eyes sparkled beneath the dull sunlight that came in wisps behind stormy clouds. Al hoped, distantly, that Ed's ports weren't in pain from the poor weather. "Everything that's scary is terrifying, and everything good is so much better."

"Yeah.."

He missed it, sometimes. On late nights, he found himself imaging what it may have been like if things had been different. If mom had lived, if dad had stayed, if they still had their bodies. He wondered if they would still bicker over certain things, if they'd still be just as good at alchemy without the extra push of trying to bring back their mom, even small stuff, like if anyone would have had a crush on him. He couldn't help but to long for the normalcy of those daydreams. He couldn't suppress the part of him that still wished things had been different, despite knowing that was the slippery slope that led them to committing the taboo. It was childish. You can't bring back the dead, and you can't change the past. He promised his brother and himself that he would never look back, but that didn't make it easy, or any less tempting.

"What I'm trying to say is," Winry interrupted his thoughts. "It's so much harder, now, then it was back then, and I don't know how to help," Her eyes were getting glossy again. "I can't do alchemy, and I'm not any use with investigation stuff. I'm really only good at automail, but-" She looked to him. "I'm going to make sure you take care of yourself, until we find him," Her gaze steeled on him, a ruthless, focused compassion etched into the details of her face. "I'm not losing you too, no matter what, so stop being a dummy, and let me help."