He Who Searches For Himself

"My head went blank the first time I saw her. Her hair was so thick and long, her eyes, her face… her body. It was Winry but it wasn't; it couldn't be. It was her voice - only it was missing the tone making her the same age as me. I thought maybe I'd fallen asleep, or stranger yet, stepped to the other side of the looking glass. She hugged me, and cried; I should have cried with her but some part of me told me it wasn't real. She smelt real, smelt the same. She had the same warmth, but it felt funny to hug her. We sat on her bed for the rest of the afternoon; she kept fluffing my hair. She talked to me about stuff I couldn't even imagine. It's too much to get into. But with every word she said for the next few weeks, it felt like the gap between the Winry I remembered and the Winry I'd get to know grew greater and greater. At first, it felt as though I'd lost a best friend. I felt alienated from her like that for weeks, months. Sensei finally asked me if something was wrong; I told her it was awkward. She told me that I shouldn't think about it like I'd lost a friend, but instead, like I'd gained an older sister."

Chapter 56 - Media of Suspicion

It was far too early to be going in to work.

It was far too early any morning to go in for 7:30AM, but there was never any choice. And she greeted every officer as he or she walked in, wished them well on their morning, and continued to sort through the mountain of papers that never ceased to pile up on her desk. It wasn't all that interesting either: court orders, interrogation logs, criminal records, and yet somehow duty rosters found their way into the piles from time to time. The sun would find its way into her office at around 10:30 when it would come around the front of the complex. It would last until sometime after 6pm, or whenever she chose to go home, whichever happened first. And it was about that time when the sun began to shine a strip on the wall that a sergeant whose name she'd never asked for, but had seen all the time, wandered into her office space.

"Ma'am?"

Sheska adjusted her glasses, "Yes?"

The young officer placed a telegram slip down upon her desk, "This came in for you a few minutes ago."

"Oh? Thank you," Sheska picked up the paper as the officer exited the room. Her eyes scanned the notice over once; without a second glance, she promptly folded it twice and tucked it into her chest pocket. Finding herself nervously drumming her fingers on the desk, Sheska worried over her next few steps. Though it served no purpose, she looked left and right sharply before abruptly getting to her feet. Quickly tiding the books stacked on her desk she snatched up her jacket from the coat hook and marched out of the room.

"Sergeant!" she called out.

The young man stopped and looked back.

"If anyone comes looking for me, can you tell them that I went to pick up a few documents? I need some additional references," without giving the man a chance to engage in any type of conversation Sheska exited the main doors.

Setting his briefcase down against the door, Mr. Mitchell gave a light laugh to himself. Looking across his library the elder man gazed upon Al sitting on the floor, his head awkwardly titled back while he slept against the sofa. The older man's shoes echoed in the silence as he stepped up to Al and knelt down.

"You're going to get a cramp in your neck if you stay like that," he said quietly. With as much care as he could, he put an arm behind Al's back, the other at his legs, and he slowly lifted Al onto the sofa. The man's effort went in vain when Al suddenly startled awake.

"Sorry," Mitchell gave a sheepish smile, "I tried at least."

Slightly disoriented, Al looked around the room as he tried to regain his bearings, "What time is it?" his voice cracking as he slowly woke.

Mitchell glanced at his watch, "quarter to eleven. What time did you come down here?"

"I came in at eight, but last time I checked it was nine thirty," Al brushed his hands through his hair quickly, "Is your wife okay?"

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Mitchell gave a startled look at Al, "She's doing better now, why do you ask?"

"I heard you leave at 3am. I heard the officer walking in the hall mention something about your wife," Al knelt back down on the floor as he re-organized the books around the table, "I thought it had to be important if they woke you up."

Sitting down in the second sofa section across the table from Al, a light smile crossed Mitchell's face, "It was a bit of an emergency, but she's came through alright," he reached across and picked up one of the books Al had been reading, "what were you doing up at that hour anyways?"

Al hesitated before answering, "I couldn't sleep."

"You have a lot on your mind to think about, but hopefully it doesn't keep you up every night," Mitchell flipped the book open in his hand, "And perhaps these books will give you something else to focus on."

Al dropped three books into the empty couch seat behind himself and hopped back onto his cushion, "These books are incredible. If only Sensei could see them."

"Sensei?"

Al momentarily froze, his mind blanking on him for a few moments before he found a suitable answer, "There was a lady once who helped me with alchemy, it was a long time ago though, when I was first learning," before any more questions could come his way, Al redirected, "where did you get stuff like this? The coding on some of the texts is so detailed it could take a lifetime to figure them out."

Mitchell laughed at that comment, "I know! I've tried and failed several times over the winter to figure them out. And even if my wife and I can't get our heads around it, they're her inheritance and she wouldn't trade them for anything. It's quite the collection isn't it?"

"I could live in here and never know enough," Al's eyes once again circled the room still in awe.

The pair's attention was grabbed at the sound of the library door opening. Entering was an unremarkable, plain woman, with her brown hair tied up at the back of her head, and a white apron around her waist. As she stepped forward, her toes would peek out from beneath the floor length dress. She cradled a baby in her arms, its tiny hands reaching up as she smiled faintly at it. The more Al stared at her, the more it felt like her presence was going to make him shiver. The boy wondered if he was the only one who could feel how the woman displaced the life n the room like a wave moved around her.

"Oh lovely, my baby girl is awake," Mitchell rose from his seat quickly and took his child from the woman's arms, "oh your smile makes my horrid night so much better." The tiny child squeaked in response.

Al watched from over his shoulder at the scene taking place. He wondered if this lady was Mitchell's wife, but how could she be when she in the hospital?

"Alphonse," the boy's attention was snagged at the call of his name. Coming up next to Al's seat, Mitchell held the baby in his arms, "do you want to hold her?" Extending his arms, Al accepted the offer and Mitchell gentle placed his infant daughter into Al's care. "You hold her so well," the man admired.

"I have a friend at home with a baby. He's older than your daughter though," Al looked down into the striking wide brown eyes of this infant who looked back up at him, her tiny mouth wide open, smiling without a care. Al couldn't help but giggle at the un-encouraged acceptance of his arms.

"Sir," the voice of the woman spoke up, "your wife has requested you join her tomorrow at four in the afternoon; the young miss you and your wife are adopting has made a request to be at her bedside."

"Has she? What a lovely child," the man could hardly contain the smile that stretched wide.

Al brushed the thin bits of hair from the baby's forehead, "Baby's going to have a big sister?" he asked in a soft voice, his attention entertained by the young child's soft gums chewing on his index finger.

"Yes she is," Mitchell announced proudly, his fists planted on his hips. In the sudden blink of an eye, his mood changed, "Four? She knows I'm in parliament until five. How long will the girl be allowed to stay there with her?"

The lady, whom Al concluded must be the baby's nanny, clasped her hands in front of herself, "There are documents she wanted you to sign so the two of you could take custody. I assume the child will remain until you arrive."

Al noted the startled response of Mr. Mitchell, "We have paperwork already?"

"It appears so. You would have to discuss it further with your wife if you wanted to know more, my apologies sir," the woman stepped between Mitchell and Alphonse. Bending over, she removed the infant from the young boy's arms, "it's time for her lunch."

Al reluctantly returned the baby to her original holder, "I can carry her, if it's alright?"

And though the woman smiled down at him, it seemed devoid of the emotions associated with the facial expression. The look made Al uneasy, "It's fine, I can look after the baby. Please continue with your readings."

Al's arms slowly dropped back own to his sides as he watched the woman carry the infant out of the room. He glanced up to Mitchell, whose smile never left his face – as though he could not feel the emptiness of the woman's presence.

"I told you, this really wasn't necessary," Hohenheim pushed through his front door as he fumbled to put his keys back into the jacket pocket.

"Nonsense! You've been so good to us today, I'm certain you had so many other things to do than entertain me," Tilly followed the professor in with two paper grocery bags in her arms, "the least we could do was help you with these."

"It's no trouble sir, really. We needed to stop by to see Edward anyways," stepping on the heel of his shoe; Oberth slipped his foot out, "where do you want these?"

"Just on the table in here is fine," Hohenheim told them.

Setting her bags down upon the table, Tilly gazed around the kitchen, "Oh, you have such a nice kitchen – it's so clean! It's nice to know that there are men out there who know how to clean up in the kitchen. I want a stove and refrigerator like that too… maybe someone will buy one for me someday."

Oberth's eye twitched while the temptation to peg his wife off with one of the new apples crossed his mind. Everyone's attention was suddenly startled at a high whistling noise that came from near the window. In a unison swing of their heads, everyone's eyes focused on the silver teakettle sitting on the stove, spewing a steady flow of white steam from beneath its fluttering lid.

"Shit!" came the distinct cry of Edward as he thundered across the upstairs floor and down the stairs. As his socks helped him slide into the doorframe, Ed moved no further once he caught sight of the astonishing number of people gathered the kitchen.

Hohenheim placed the kettle down upon a cool element and turned back to his son, "DON'T leave the stove unattended."

"I was just putting something-"

"Did you not hear me when I said 'DON'T'?" Hohenheim scowled with genuine disapproval, "if you're not paying attention the house could burn down."

With a deep breath, Edward found his most insensitive voice, "Sorry." At that, he deliberately changed topics, "What are you two doing here?" Ed brought his hand over his mouth as he gave a cough.

"Did you just wake up?" Oberth laughed at Ed's sloppy attire.

Looking down at himself, Edward examined his black sweatpants and plain white top, "What? This? I wasn't going anywh-" peripheral vision told him something was coming and Ed swung his head out of the way before Tilly could grab his hair, "WHAT?"

"Edward," her hands landed firmly upon her hips, "only poor farm handlers braid their hair. You look like you crawled out of a barn."

The most perplexed expression he'd given off in weeks hung around his face. Ed pointed at the braid "…Because of this?" he stepped further away from Tilly and moved to the piping kettle. Oberth laughed again at his wife's obvious disapproval of the situation while Edward glanced back at her with a look of caution before pouring the hot water into a cup.

Hohenheim's questioning gaze followed Ed silently as he moved.

Stepping up to the table of cluttered groceries, Ed started to poke around in the bags of fresh food, "What are you two doing here?"

"I received a telegram from an acquaintance in Austria," Oberth glanced down at Edward's plain cup of water, "…I passed by him from time to time during the war, our units were stationed close by one at one point. We had drinks once in a while before he was injured. He invited Tilly and myself out for dinner and told me to bring anyone I wanted with me, so I told him you'd be coming."

"Huh?" Ed's eyes grew wide as his expression became perplexed. Putting his hand at his chest as he gave a cough, Ed sputtered at them, "I was in the middle of things. And didn't we just have dinner out?"

Tilly giggled, "That was days ago and just you and Hermann. Mr. Lang is bringing some uptown associates with him. It'll be a social event."

"Yeah but…" Ed picked up his cup and blew the steam off the top of the water all the while giving a disapproving frown at the thought of mixing with the 'uptown socialites', "you could have asked me first?"

"Of course not! You'd say no," Tilly raised her finger.

Edward scowled at her as he sipped the water.

"You're just as bad as Hermann some days. I know your type - you sit there with your face in some book or notes. Someone has to grab you by the collar and haul you outside if you're going to unwind at all," Tilly's matter of fact comments ended with her hands upon her hips. By this time her husband sat himself down in one of the table chairs, his head in his hand as he looked on unimpressed by the comments.

With the narrowing of his eyes and another sip from the glass, Edward stared back at her, "You haven't known me long enough to say something like that…"

"Mathilde, Hermann, why don't you two have a seat in the living room until Ed is ready to join you. I'm sure he has no objection to going upstairs, getting changed, and dressing appropriately for your friend tonight," Hohenheim decided it was time to organize the disorganized masses who were clogging up his kitchen. At his urging, the couple excused themselves from the room. Finally, with a dissatisfied glare, Edward turned and headed up the stairs. Stopping at the top stair, Ed turned back and looked down at his father who started to follow behind him.

"I know how this conversation goes and so do you. You can skip it," Edward said flatly.

Hohenheim's attention was grabbed by a comment that did not seem to come as a surprise. The old man played the game anyways, "Pardon?"

A disgruntled sigh followed as Ed took a sharp drink from his cooling glass, "'Edward, are you feeling okay?' 'Yes, I'm always okay.' 'You're not running a fever?' 'For the thousandth time, no.' 'You be-" Edward stopped himself. He watched his father turn without a word and head back down the stairs. At the top step, Ed stood waiting for Hohenheim to give him some final remark, but nothing came. The eldest Elric simply turned down the hall towards the living room.

Edward stood alone in the early evening light that had filtered into the hall behind him, his surprised eyes examining the empty space where his father once stood. The pinch in his chest told him to go down the stairs and ask what his od man was doing walking away. It was uncharacteristic - his father never let the issue drop so easily. Holding the warm cup in the palm of his left hand, Ed stood at the top stair and waited for the man to come back. When the ticking of the hall clock began to echo over the voices in the living room a withdrawn look entered Ed's eyes. Finally he turned and headed to his bedroom.

At the sound of the door opening, Havoc lifted his eyes up from the paperwork piled upon the desk.

"Enjoying my chair, Lieutenant?" Roy stepped into the room, a wooden cane in hand to steady his posture.

"Your chair is the only thing I'm enjoying," Havoc's eyes rolled as he popped the pen into his mouth in place of the absent cigarette, "you get some of the most boring reports to finalize. I thought you said this job was interesting."

Dressed in a casual white collared shirt and jeans, Mustang sat himself down in one of the chairs at the meeting table, "The job is interesting… all of the perks were that is."

"Your free-reign perks have become bureaucratical pen ink," Havoc spat out the pen and it bounced on the desk.

With a smirk on his face, Mustang grinned at his subordinate, "And when I come back you can keep on wasting all that ink. You've done such an outstanding job in my place Havoc that you can continue doing what you're doing. There are hundreds of other things in my jurisdiction I can oversee with all that spare time while you finish off all of my paperwork."

Havoc's eyebrow twitched at the thought, "I'm going to respectfully decline, Sir. You've done quite enough already to get me into this position."

"I will take your that into consideration," Roy continued to smirk through their play. Taking a moment to relax in the chair, the Brigadier General stared across the room haphazardly, "did you look after that officer?"

Picking up the pen once more, Havoc returned to leafing through the papers, "he was shipped out this morning."

"And his daughter?"

"She was sent home," the lower officer's eyes did not lift from the sheets he scanned.

Roy gave a slow nod of approval as he turned to watch Havoc work, "The statements?"

"Second from the bottom," Havoc's eyes glanced to a stack of envelopes at the left corner of the desk, "I've been ordered to send them to the investigations department before the end of my shift."

"Isn't that a shame," Roy slowly stood up; trying not to give away the feeling of displeasure he endured by having to rely on the cane once more; he'd enjoyed several weeks without the wretched device but now his leg was acting up again. Regardless, he took a stroll around the room and timing his steps with the ticking of the clock. Havoc's eyes trained on his paperwork as the pen found its way back into his teeth. He did not look up again until Mustang's voice caught his attention.

"Lieutenant," Roy pulled the cigarette package out from the chest pocket of his jacket hanging on the coat hanger. Havoc's eyebrows rose as he noticed his last two cigarettes in his commanding officer's hands, "I think you should take a trip to the convenience store and pick another package of cigarettes," within his fingers, Roy snapped the final pair, "you seem to be out."

The pen in Havoc's teeth drooped at the sight.

"While you're out, why not swing by the central library and pick up something for me to read while I sit in this old office," Roy swept the cigarette parts away with his foot, "I'm sure I'll get bored by 4:30. Perhaps someone's biography would suffice."

The mortified expression on Havoc's face slowly faded away as he stood up from the chair, "Sure…" was the cautious reply. Walking over to the coat rack, he retrieved his jacket as Roy tossed the empty package into the garbage. Before Havoc's hand was able to firmly grasp the door handle, the knob turned on its own and nearly swung open into him. He stumbled out of the way.

"Pardon me, Lieutenant," Hawkeye stood in the doorway, her light beige jacket buttoned up over her black shirt and pants. A briefcase dangled in hand, "You were on your way out?"

Havoc's hand quickly made its way to a salute, "Yes, Major. Excuse me." Stepping past his superior, the lieutenant left the room as Roy made his way back to what was once his desk chair. Sitting carefully down in the leather seat, a dissatisfied look crossed his face.

"That still sounds wrong."

"Does it?" Riza gave him a questioning look as she grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it over to the desk.

"Second Lieutenant to First Lieutenant was not that hard, but Major? I hope you don't let the prestige of being such a high-ranking female officer go to your head," he said with a careless expression as he flipped through Havoc's paperwork.

"Since I'm still part of your subordinate structure, I will have too much 'housekeeping' to do before something like that could happen," Riza sat herself down, a classic business look still on her face.

Dismissing the comment, Roy's gave a slight adjustment to his eye patch as he scanned over the papers, "There is too much paperwork to get anything done with efficiency now, lots of things keep getting lost, including overdue promotions. Regardless, it was still a good day yesterday for you two," Roy's hand carefully slipped the envelope of statements out from under the pile, "it's a shame more paperwork will go missing."

"You're putting Lieutenant Havoc in a tough situation, especially after his third star," Riza gave him a glance that was meant more for guilt than disapproval.

Roy, visually unfazed by the comment, handed the envelope to her, "If he gets me what I need from the library, I'm sure I can do something to make sure he survives the situation."

With a sigh, Riza tucked the envelope into her briefcase.

"Speaking of promotions," Roy reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, "someone should look into promoting that Sergeant Broche. He's been convenient twice already," he handed the telegram card to Hawkeye.

Examining the details of the hand written copy of the telegram card bound for Sheska, Riza handed it back to him without a second thought, "He neglected his observational duties with young Alphonse in the hospital. He was also neglecting his daily duties while chatting with the Sergeant at the transmission desk. Luck and good timing are not a skills."

"I'd like to think I've mastered the skill of luck," the corner or Roy's mouth curled up, "you're such a harsh Major."

Riza stood up from her seat, brushing her hair behind her shoulders, "Someone has to be." Heading back towards the door she gave a glance over her shoulder, "Perhaps I'll take your car out for a drive once more?"

"Have it for as long as you need it," Roy's eye began skimming over a few papers he'd picked up, "don't forget to come back here and pick me up." Hearing the door shut behind her, Roy raised an eyebrow at the lack of a response. Something told him not to put it past her to accidentally 'forget' to pick him up.

Without warning, Fritz lifted Edward's right arm into the air, "That's amazing! It's just like a robot!"

He snatched his arm back, his voice sharp with defiance, "It's a prosthesis. I control it on my own."

"That's incredible, I've never seen anything like that," the man everyone addressed as Fritz sat himself back down in his chair at their round dining table. He adjusted the monocle that sat at his left eye, "I don't suppose you'd want to be part of a movie for me, eh?"

The glaring look of displeasure shot across the table and Edward popped his fork into his mouth, "No."

"Ah! I could do so much with an idea like that," the man leaned back in his chair as he scooped a heaping of mashed potatoes from his plate into his mouth. At the man's right, the woman who graced his side placed her elbows on the tabled and her fingers interlaced.

"So could I. Can you imagine, a world where man starts to become machine. It would be the dehumanization of society; man could lose its identity," her amused grin ran ear to ear.

Edward's grin did not. He was not entertained by either the implications that he was something 'un-human' nor how they were turning this into some fantasy story. He took a mental note to inform the Oberth couple to keep quiet about his physical situation in the future. The corner of Ed's eyes caught them as they laughed.

"Now, come on," a woman directly across from Ed waved her hand so she could have everyone's attention, "you're just being foolish. Robots… my word," wrapping her cloth napkin around her hand, she dabbed her mouth clear of any gravy; the curling ends of her short-cut dark hair bobbed at her neck as she did.

"Lya, it's just fun," Oberth straightened his shirt as he sat next to Edward, "I'd been given the impression you had a better spirit than that."

The young woman, Lya, picked up her cutlery once more, not yet finished with her meal. Her complexion and eyes teased that she could have been someone younger than the entire table, yet she had the stunning curvature of a woman within that black dress. She gave a bit of a laugh while she straightened the fur around her shoulders, "I'm sorry, it's been a long couple days. I had such a short time to get my business in Munich done."

"Poor thing, when is your train to Berlin coming in?" between the woman between Lya and Fritz perfected her posture in the seat, her similar short blonde curls bouncing in identical fashion as the other women. When she wasn't acting 'foolish' at the prompting of her companion, she carried the most maturity of the entire table without saying a word.

Distancing himself from the conversation that he felt too out-aged and out-classed in, Ed's eyes wandered around the room disinterested. His gaze scanned the late night hall filled with some of the highest profile figures in Munich. Without consciously doing do, his mind wandered back to earlier in the day.

Ed's face suddenly twisted as he felt the sharp poke of a pointed shoe into his shin. He looked at the five other members of his table to find Lya as the only one giving him a 'pay attention' gaze. Continuing to sit within the discomfort of the table, he straightened his tie.

"Lya, how'd you get to know a creepy old man like Fritz here," Oberth poked at them through a half grin, adjusting the napkin in his collar.

"Old man, he calls me," Fritz let out a hearty laugh that was drowned out in the noise of the crowded venue.

As she settled her giggles, Lya looked to Oberth and his wife, "I bumped into Mr. Lang at the train station and he recognized me from one of my stage performances. We talked for a while and found out we both know Robert Reinert; the director of my last movie."

Ed poked what was left of the steak on his plate with his fork and chewed casually on a few pieces he'd cut.

Oberth raised an eyebrow, "Reinert… the name isn't familiar."

Fritz waved a hand casually, "Oh he's gone by Dinesen before. I worked with him just after I got out of the hospital. He helped me get my taste in the film industry. I assisted him in a serial - you must have seen it at some point. It was called Homunculus."

Edward's fist hit his chest before the fork had a chance to ring off the floor, trying desperately to cough back up the dinner he'd just inhaled.

The gathering at the table stood up in unison as Ed curled over in his chair, his hands covering his face as he began to cough. Oberth grabbed him by his shoulder but Ed pushed the hand away, "I'm fine," his hands once again covered his mouth as he coughed trying to regain his breath, "sorry."

"Chew your food more carefully next time," Tilly crossed her legs as she sat back down.

Still red in the cheeks from the sudden start, Ed looked to Fritz, "What was that movie called?"

"Homunculus. It was a six part serial I did some casual work on. Big hit during the war," Fritz picked up the water jug in the middle of the table and poured Ed a glass.

Ed's eyes drilled into the man, "What was it about?"

"Oh, jeez," Fritz hung his arm over the back of his chair as he sat, "it was about a scientist who creates the 'perfect creature' called Homunculus. The thing discovers it has no soul and isn't really human. Homunculus resents the fact society has rejected it and that it's not a real human. It starts tyrannizing all the people in an act of vengeance. Homunculus ends up becoming the dictator of some nation, then tries to destroy other nations and conquer the world."

Ed paused, running the story through his mind. The similarities sent a shiver through his skin, "Can I see this film?"

Fritz glanced around to his companions at his table, "I don't think it's in any theatres anymore, this was five years ago."

"Edward…" all eyes fell upon Lya as she sat observing the whole situation, "you said that your father was a professor at Munich's University correct? You can check and see if the university has a copy. I heard that some of the schools in Berlin had copies of popular films."

Ed nodded to her, suddenly knowing what he was going to do tomorrow. His attention turned over to Fritz once more, "So what happens?"

Fritz ran his hand through his hair, "It gets struck down by a bolt of lightning and dies."

It was the first time the whole evening Edward had cracked a smile, and it was more than a smile. Ed sat there and found the fate of the storied Homunculus something he could not resist laughing at. He was the only one laughing, but he didn't mind.

If only it was that easy.

At the barking of one of the elder librarians, Havoc's unlit cigarette came out of his mouth and went behind his ear. Following the directions of a much nicer young lady, who quickly became a good reason to return to the library at a later time, Havoc's stroll took him to the second floor of the Central Library. Biographies were kept in a subsection of the library and down an adjoining hall from the main collection. Somewhat concerned by the lack of patrons within the library at this time of day, the lieutenant began to wonder if he'd misread Mustang's ulterior motive – if there was one at all. Standing at the beginnings of what was part of the historical non-fiction section of the library, Havoc's expression fell as he entered the subsection… it was not an area he frequented.

"I can't do that!"

At the echoing of a voice sounding as if it should have been whispered, Havoc took a step back behind one of the shelving units. The muffled voices disappeared into the general hum of the heavy circulation system once more. With cautious steps forward, he moved deeper into the room, thankful that his footsteps were being drowned out. Eventually picking up on the vibration of voices within the room, Havoc followed the sounds as they grew more distinct, carefully placing each foot as he made a step, watching his own shadow to make sure it never peeked out before he did.

"I just need you to find out who made that call…"

"It'll be sealed; there'd be so much trouble if I got caught. I don't know who'd charge me first for that."

"You're in the investigations department! I'm sure you can do some 'investigating' into the file and find out if the call to Dublith was even made by the military."

"And so what? What if I find out who made that call? How's that supposed to help you find him? Didn't I tell you where I think he is?"

"I'd at least know if it was them or not! There weren't any names given in the paper, I don't know for sure if they're even here. If it was Lieutenant Ross or Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong then they wouldn't have called the meat shop asking about Izumi unless something was wrong."

"I have heard people in the halls saying that the police are having problems getting decent information about what happened to 'the boy's' mother. There were some problems that went on between the military and the police up when the girl's father showed up. I don't know what though. If they called, they might have been looking for information."

"I think they called the night before you said that girl's dad showed up. But I just… I can't imagine Izumi vanishing like that. There has to be more."

"I don't understand. If Al was one of those two kids in the explosion, why would they have called Izumi's husband over calling you in Resembool?"

"Sheska have you seen him? There's no way they'd call Resembool first and risk sounding that stupid. They'd call Dublith first because you can't mistake Izumi."

Havoc cleared his throat causing the girls to muffle their shrieking at the sound. With his casual swagger, Havoc turned down the aisle and walked the length of the shelves towards the study table where two girls sat. He popped the cigarette back into his teeth, "Hey ladies, is this where everyone playing hooky comes?"

"L-lieutenant Havoc!" Winry and Sheska squeaked in unison.

Standing up immediately at Havoc's presence, Sheska's stress level doubled, "I'll head back to my post right away, sir. I didn't intend on being gone for so long."

"Woah woah… I didn't come here to send you back. I actually came here to kill some time and pick up a book," Havoc gave an amused chew of his cigarette, "did I scare you girls, neither of you look too good?"

"Oh no," came their response in chorus as they forced themselves to relax back into the chairs.

Grabbing a chair at the eight-person table, Havoc spun it around and sat down on the backwards seat, "Winry, you show up in Central and don't even stop by to say hi?"

"Uh," the brightest face she could put on over her shocked expression came alive, "sorry about that, if I had a chance to stop by, I would have," the corner of her smile twitched unintentionally, "How long have you been in here?"

"Just walked in and thought I recognized the voices," grinning charismatically through his teeth, Havoc relaxed over the back of the chair, "I thought I heard you mention something about Resembool? How's everyone doing out there?"

Sheska glanced over to Winry who gave a vigorous nod, "Oh we're doing alright; the boys are enjoying the change in life style. It's much more relaxing out in the countryside for everyone. There's more time to think and research. It's good. We like it. I've always liked it."

"Good to know those brothers are getting on alright. What about you? What brought you all the way out to Central?"

Brushing her bangs aside Winry gave a light giggle, "Al was heading to Dublith and I thought he might have stopped off to see some people in Central. But I didn't know if his train schedule was the same as mine. And since I haven't seen him at all in the city, he's probably back on the train to Dublith."

"Well I can tell ya I haven't seen Al and I'm certain he would have dropped by jeadquarters if he had stopped by. And even if he hadn't, it's not like he's hard to miss," Havoc took the cigarette out of his mouth and slid it behind his ear, a puzzled look crossing his eyes, "wouldn't you two have come in on the same train though?"

Staring blankly back at Havoc for an awkward moment of silence, Winry finally perked up, "Oh, no no, um, I came in from Rush Valley. I've been staying with a friend down there."

"Oh!" Havoc gave an affirmative nod, "You must have a few hookups in other cities by now I'd guess."

Giving a laugh with as little nerves as possible, Winry relaxed a bit in her chair, "Yes, that's very true… very true. Um, I heard it's been exciting around here this last week." She searched for a swift change in topic that was more relevant to her curiosity.

"Yeah, it has. I've tried to keep my nose out of it. All that uproar did was give me more papers to read and sign," Havoc let out a genuine sigh of displeasure.

Winry tipped her head at the comment; "You have a desk job now? I can't see you doing that."

Havoc rolled his eyes, "It turned into a desk job. The Brigadier General is going to hate it when he comes back and we'll get to hear all about it."

"Oh that's right," Sheska's eyes turned over to Winry, unsure if she had ever been made completely aware of the man's condition. Winry simply nodded in acceptance of the situation.

"He's still on injury leave?"

"Yeah, but he's due back before the end of summer. I get to warm the chair for him in the meantime," Havoc gave a smirk to the comment, "why don't you girls come by the office. I can take a cue from the Brigadier General and kill an afternoon's work worth of paperwork once in a while," with the flick of his finger, Havoc pointed at Winry, "and no one's seen you since the end of last summer. You can't think that we're not interested in how everyone's been doing?"

Both girl's instantly went on defence, "Oh no, we can't."

"I shouldn't, there's so much I need to do."

"And I have to get going."

"Oh come on," Havoc glanced to Sheska, "if you show up in my office, then I can vouch for your whereabouts if anyone comes looking," he gave her a wink.

Sheska's face fell a bit at the malicious glint in Havoc's eye, "I'm being blackmailed, I think," she glanced to Winry who was quickly getting up from her seat.

"No really, I can't. There're a lot of errands I need to run today. I need to pick up a few things for my shop and for my Grandmother," with a panicked haste, Winry began to gather her two travel bags behind her chair.

"Well hey," Havoc grabbed up the second bag before Winry could, "I'll drive you around this afternoon, how about that? That'll give you some extra time before the stores close and everyone should still be around by the time you're done."

Winry's hand tightened nervously around the shoulder strap of the one bag as she tossed her lengths of blonde hair behind her shoulders, "I can't trouble you like that."

"No trouble. It's a voluntary taxi service," Havoc snapped his fingers as he tossed the bag over his shoulder, "come on, how often do you pass through Central?"

Winry cracked a smile for him, something inside her told her that no matter how hard she insisted, she was going to lose this battle. The prospect of chatting about the past eight months made her so nervous she could tremble from head to toe. She knew full well that very little she would say would be the truth and that hurt most of all, "Well, I suppose for a bit." Winry zipped up her black jacket and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt. She glanced back over her shoulder to Sheska who had already given in.

Havoc turned out of the room, "The car's outside."

"Homunculus, eh?" The older lady at the library desk scratched her chin, "I know the title, but I'm not sure if it's something we have."

"If it's not in your back room, is there anywhere else it might be?" the look of frustration had started to become quite apparent on Ed.

"Um…" the woman adjusted the bun on her head, "if you head through those doors on your left, the door at the end of the hallway is for the photo development lab. If it's not in the main section, sometimes reels get put in that storage closet if no one's borrowed them in a while."

"Do you have a key for the room?"

As if to annoy Ed further the woman slowly began opening the drawers of the desk she was sitting at. She picked through the drawers as if she were picking through the garbage – carefully, as if each item were diseased. Ed's eye twitched.

"Oh, no I'm sorry. I forgot; there's someone in there right now. If you knock on the door, maybe she'll let you in."

Without a speck of gratitude Ed turned on his heels and marched off through the doors on his left. His thin ponytail danced behind him as he walked down the hallway. He didn't need that lady to make his mood any worse than it already was today, his father's continued silence was doing a fine enough job as it was.

Marching up to the door, Edward gave a firm knock. Again, his eye twitched as he waited while no response coming from within. He knocked again, shoving his hands in his pockets as he waited for someone to open the door. Ed had been warned that entering a photography room could cause serious trouble; the light would ruin film development. But again, there was no sign of life. He grabbed the door handle and wiggled it, hoping to grab someone's attention from within, and to his surprise the door popped open.

Ed slowly peeked around the door into the unoccupied room. Shutting the door behind himself, he flicked on the dim desk light near the door and looked around.

"Hello?" Edward began to walk slowly around the room, bypassing bits of photography equipment and a personal camera on a central, large table as he did so. He had to admit, he was surprised by how large the room was. Walking his circle around the room Ed noted the doors that graced each wall. Thinking it was rather ridiculous to have multiple entrances to a film lab, each door must be a storage closet. Ed grabbed the handle of the first door on his clockwise journey and pulled it open – he instantly squinted as he found himself bombarded by light. Rubbing his eyes, Ed peered out into this un-trodden white corridor. Giving his head a shake, Ed had nearly closed the door to save his sight when the distinct sound of a girl's giggling voice rang out. Without a second thought Ed stepped into the hallway and tried to follow the voice. Standing in the corridor it seemed to be a link between six different rooms, one at each end, and two on each side. Finding the sound of the giggles loudest at the end of the hall, Ed opened yet another door and looked inside.

His ears were greeted by the sudden scream of a young voice. In the darkness of this video screening room a girl who only came to his shoulder suddenly stood before him.

"I'm so sorry Sir! I'll put this all back I swear! I was just curious!"

"Huh? Curious about what?" Ed shook his head and looked down into the striking blue eyes of a petrified girl, barely old enough to be called a young lady, "who are you? Are you allowed in here?"

"Wow…" the girl stared up at him – the conversation stalled as she did so – her eyes were wide with wonder.

Ed blinked and took a startled step back.

"…Your eyes are yellow…"

Sharply adjusting his tie, Ed cleared his throat, "They're gold. Who are you and what are you doing here? Are you even OLD enough to be in here?"

The girl began to fidget with the sides of her dress, "Um, my name is Brigitte… and I was supposed to develop some film, but I got distracted. I'm sorry, please don't call the nuns. I'll just leave."

"Nuns? What nuns?" Ed scratched his head completely lost by the comment.

The girl's eyes narrowed at him, "Do you work here Sir? You're dressed awful fine to not…"

"No. I came looking for a film reel," his eyes glanced up at the projection still flashing on the screen, "what are you watching?"

"It's an animated film! I saw it in the storage closet when I came into the room, I wanted to see it," Brigitte quickly ran over and turned off the projector as Ed turned on the light within the room. He watched as the girl stood on an overturned box and, with precision, she rewound the film reel through the machine, and then disassembled the set up upon the projector.

Again, Ed gave her a questioning look, "How old are you?"

"Thirteen, Sir," she carefully lay the reel back into its container and pushed the lid down over it.

"And you came here to develop film?!" Ed returned to scratching his head.

Swiftly marching past him and back into the bright corridor, Brigitte held the reel against her chest, "I had some pictures of my mother, Heidi, and old classmates on my camera that I wanted to develop. It's too expensive to hop on a train to Berlin every weekend to see them, so I took pictures before I left. And if I can do it myself, why bother paying someone to develop my film for me."

"Oh," the perplexed expression still lingered on Ed's face as he followed her down the hall, a little overwhelmed by her dump of information. He shut the door of the room they'd exited and before he could make his way back into the development room, Ed found himself face to face with a camera lens. In the bright hall, Brigitte snapped a photograph of his puzzled expression.

"I wish I could make colour photographs," Brigitte turned the camera over in her hands, examining it carefully, "no one's going to believe me at school when I tell them I met a man with yellow eyes. But the light in here is bright enough the photograph should turn out at least."

Extending his gloved hands, Ed made the non-verbal request to examine at the camera. The girl handed it over for inspection.

"It's an AG Stuttgart Piccolette!" she announced proudly, "My mother and sister got it for me for my birthday."

Ed handed it back to her, "And the university is letting you use their equipment to develop your pictures?"

"One of the sisters helped arrange it for me," Brigitte nodded as she headed back into the dimmed light of the photography room, "I guess she's taking responsibility if I damage anything. And I'll get 20 lashes if I do, so I'm keeping everything as perfect as I can."

Ed raised his eyebrows at the comment, realizing he'd just found her doing something far more troublesome than developing film, and that probably warranted more than twenty lashes. Picking the film reel Brigitte had put down, Ed moved towards what he assumed was a closet door, "Which one does this belong in?"

"The one in front of you has equipment in it, the one on your right has the films," setting her camera down on the counter, Brigitte came over to join Edward, "you said you were looking for a film?" she pulled open the closet door for him.

"It's called Homunculus," Ed returned the film to the only empty hole in the shelves.

"I don't think it's here," Brigitte put her hands on her hips, "I looked at all of the titles before I watched one. I didn't see that name on any of them."

Ed gave a sigh and simply shut the door on the reels. Brigitte took a few startled steps backwards at his sudden discouragement. "It would have been six volumes, you couldn't have missed it," he turned and leaned up against the door, "maybe I should just go to the market instead. I'm just chasing ghosts."

"Sir?"

"Huh?" Edward gave a lethargic look towards her.

"Maybe if you knew who made the film, you could ask someone if they know who he is, and maybe find him?" Brigitte hopped up onto the table to rest her feet.

Ed gave a bit of a laugh at that, "Okay Brigitte, do you know who Robert Dinesen, or Reinert, or whatever his name is?" The long pause that ensued caused Edward to focus his gaze harder unto the girl upon the counter. He straightened himself slowly, "What?"

Brigitte crossed her legs as she sat quietly on the counter and smoothed out the front of her dress. She chewed on the inside of her cheeks without a response.

"… What?"

"Mr. Reinert is co-founder of Emelka here in Munich. I shot a documentary with them last summer… um…" Brigitte glanced out the corners of her eyes to Ed.

Edward slowly moved himself away from the door, his eyes wide in amusement of the situation, "… Where's the studio?"

"Well, they're on the other side of the city," Brigitte looked to the ceiling in thought, "and it's Saturday, so they're closed."

Ed's hand promptly slapped over his face.

"Sir?"

"Huh?" Edward gave another disheartened look her way through his fingers.

Brigitte clasped her hands over her knee; her short blonde curls held tight up against her head, "The markets are busy on Saturdays. Do you want to help me develop my film instead?"

Using a slow hand, Havoc shut the office door behind himself. Glancing over to the desk, Mustang still sat in his old chair, his suspicious gaze asking Havoc more than enough questions, yet only one was spoken first:

"And?"

"The girls bumped into Falman in the hall. Do you want them both in here when they're done?" Havoc raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Can they answer my questions?" Roy's quest for an answer continued with annoyance in his voice.

Havoc gave off a gradual nod, "Yes, they can."

"Did you get anything?" Mustang's eyes narrowed.

Havoc sat himself down in one of the chairs and glanced over to his superior, "Winry came in from Resembool looking for Alphonse. She's suspecting that he's 'the boy' caught in the market explosion. They'll tell you otherwise," with a deep breath, the look in his eyes showed signs of becoming overwhelmed, "Sir, I don't know how… this… I mean for Edward to have…"

Slouching in his seat, Roy folded his arms and began radiating with deep frustration, his suspicious imagination running wild with all the loose ends, "I've gotten sick of being deceived and lied to by these children," his eye glanced over to the window as he swivelled in the chair, "my patience has run thin… -hm?"

Both Mustang and Havoc looked over their shoulders to the door.

With her head peeking into the room, Sheska found herself startled into silence as her saucer-wide eyes stared into the interrogating expression of Mustang – someone she had not expected to see. The look of irritation in his face sent a wave of panic through her body as Sheska gripped the door handle tighter; for some reason, Roy's black eye patch always added to the intensity of his unpleasant moods.

"Come inside Sheska," Havoc's voice was anything but inviting.

"We were actually..." she glanced back out into the hall, "going to gather everyone and go for coffee," her voice quivered slowly with caution, "did you want to join us?" Her eyes watched as the serious tones surrounding both men never wavered.

"Take a seat in here," came Mustang's authoritative command in complete disregard of her request.

More frightened by the comment than taken aback by it, Sheska glanced around the large curtain-drawn room, "Sure..." she again peeked back out into the hall, pulling her jacket tighter around herself, "… Winry!"

Though Sheska's holler was going tell Winry that she would be delayed for coffee, there was no disguising the alarming panic that rang out in the frazzled girl's voice.

"SHEZKA!" It was Havoc's fist that slammed down onto the table in annoyance at Sheska's inadvertent verbal warning that something was wrong.

The replacement of frustration from the normal compassionate tone Havoc carried startled Sheska so much she jumped. Finding herself with little alternative but to enter the room, she joined the two men. Her shoes echoed in the silence as she moved cautiously to the center of the office, finally sitting down in a chair across from Lieutenant Havoc. Her eyes shifted between the interrogating gazes bestowed upon her.

"Do you know why we're here?" the depth of Mustang's powerful tone made Sheska wish she could simply disappear.

"No, sir."

Again all eyes turned to the door as it opened once again. There Falman stood and he instantly became alarmed by the atmosphere within the room. Wondering if he should simply retreat back into the hallway, he chose to address Sheska instead, "Sorry for my intrusion, but, do you know where Winry ran off to?"

Roy's expression grew darker, he'd thought that at some point before he'd last seen Edward that a level of trust had been established which he could rely upon when dealing with these Resembool families. He could not find any reason why they were suddenly shutting him out without any notification or explanation. Simple acknowledgement of his involvement with the situation would have sufficed days ago.

Sheska's eyes glanced to Mustang momentarily before back to Falman, "Did she say anything?"

"She said she needed to go to the washroom, but," Falman's eyes bounced around the three occupants, "the washroom is at the other end of the hall."

"Warrant Office Falman," Roy's voice rang out coldly, "I want that girl arrested." The only set of eyes that did not give the man a surprised reaction was Havoc's.

"Wh… what for?!"

"She is hindering an investigation and has become a suspect as well. The Central Market explosion case may no longer be under my department's supervision, but I still have the authority to bring suspects into custody," there was no nonsense about the tone, "the police can deal with her as they see fit."

Sheska shrieked in alarm, suddenly concerned by the implications of the second charge, "Wait a minute! Winry wasn't even in town when that happened."

Havoc glanced to Mustang looking to gauge the seriousness of his apprehension order. With all doubt erased, Havoc addressed to the stunned officers, "The information she's provided me about her whereabouts the last week have been inconsistent, she could have been anywhere."

"You don't know that?!" Sheska argued, her voice choking with panic, "wh-what are you doing!? You can't hand her over to the police, you don't know what they'd do to her!"

"She told me that she came in from Rush Valley, yet I clearly heard you place her in Resembool a few moments earlier. Those locations are days apart and aren't connected directly by train – you require Central to be a transfer station. Until we can confirm her whereabouts for the last week, we don't know anything for sure," Havoc's stern address to Sheska caused her to sink into the wooden chair.

"… How much did you hear of our conversation?"

The Lieutenant's eyes turned back over to Mustang, waiting for his next call, "Falman, go! Take Breda with you."

"Don't go!" Sheska shrieked back at Falman, but the door swung shut on her voice. Clenching her fists in her lap, Sheska's jaw tightened as she tried to subdue her nerves and emotions, "why can't you leave this alone? You were removed from the case, isn't it obvious that it's not involving you anymore."

Slowly Roy rose to his feet, unaided by his cane, "I had tried very hard, very hard to create a passage for those brothers to use at their own discretion. I'd hoped I had gained a mutual understanding with them at some point in time. I never expected their gratitude, I never asked for it either; it's not something I require. Up until now, I had no intention on intruding on their privacy if they wish to be left alone. I've known for a long time that if they achieved their goal, they would disappear," Havoc watched the Brigadier General as he tightened his shoulders, "but right now, in this situation, I do not believe that any of us deserve to be treated as an obstacle. Have my actions not made it apparent numerous times that my agenda has always taken their well-being into consideration?!"

Sheska's eyes glanced away from him; she looked down into her lap, "Sir, I don't think you quite understand…"

For Mustang, that was the wrong response, "Do you know what I don't understand? I don't understand why I've had to fight to get information on this boy. Why I just ordered a nonsensical arrest. I don't understand why, every time one of my officers places a phone call to someone who could let us help him, we are hung up on. I do not understand why critical people insist on lying to me and creating barriers to keep me out. I haven't a single shred of factual information on how that Alphonse even exists - I may have my own theories, but they do nothing but create more questions," with each sentence, Mustang's tone of voice rose; his enunciation growing more precise with each step up, "I have little explanation for Alphonse's behaviour towards me and I am astounded that Edward has been a complete non-factor in the whole situation. I have a thousand more questions than I have answers because the doors I opened for them have slammed in my face," his hands came thundering down onto the desk, "Don't misunderstand how frustrated this has made me."

From the corner of his eye, Havoc watched as Sheska reached into the inside pocket of her coat. After a momentary pause she pulled out an opened letter envelope. Getting to her feet slowly, she placed the envelope in between herself and the lieutenant. She kept her head low; the tilt of her glasses used the reflection of the room's light to keep anyone from looking into her eyes. Her voice came off distant and withdrawn, filling the room with a sinking feeling.

"I'm sorry, I have to go now, am I excused?"

Havoc slid the envelope towards himself. The return address was enough and he pulled the two page letter out from the envelope. Without opening it, he folded the papers in half once more, and slipped it into his chest pocket, "I think you can be excused."

Sheska's hand darted across the table, snatching back her empty envelope. Shoving it into a pocket she ran out the door without a word to anyone… without turning back to look.

"Lieutenant Havoc," the firmness of Mustang's voice startled him to attention. His expression slowly mellowed while Roy pulled his black jacket on once more. With a straightening tug of his coat and firm grip on the cane, the officer who'd stopped feeling as though he was still on injury leave headed towards the door, "it's 4:30 and you still have a ton of paperwork left on your desk. I hope you have it done by the time I come back tomorrow."

A sheepish grin came across Havoc's face as he gave a light laugh in relief of the whole situation, "I didn't have anywhere to be tonight, anyways."

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes

R&R is lovely and appreciated!

Chapter 57 is a little Christmas adventure, it'll be out on Dec 24th (I'm almost done with it, since I wrote most of it before this one was finished, heh).

Havoc didn't take over ALL of Roy's job, just a part of it. Mustang wasn't replaced in his job - his duties were simply distributed among his most senior staff (IE: Hawkeye and Havoc).

Homunculus (6-part German silent film – 1916). Directed by Otto Rippert, written by Robert Dinesen (Reinert). Yes, it really exists.

Lya has nothing to do with Lyra – just so you're not confused.

Chapter 55 Feedback

I'm glad it was well received.

chibi-sherry - it's a good hate. Hope your finals are over :3

bOw-doWn-tO-KeiKO - Hmm... I am educated, but not in anything that has anything to do with Europe, WWI, or Hitler XD.

Zrana - Hi Zrana! :D feel free to IM my away message with proof reading if you feel inclined to do so.