Author's Note:

Warning. There is some violence in this chapter. There isn't anything too extreme, but a few people do get beat up/smacked around.

Reviews are always appreciated. No one I know watches FMA and none of my friends are into anime. So it is really nice to be able to share this story with you all and hear your feedback.

I own nothing.

It was shortly after dawn when a young man left the inn.

Despite his age, his eyes were framed with deep worrying lines. His jaw was tense, half clenched with stress. He had spent the past eight hours pacing around his room, plagued by unrelenting thoughts and anxieties. He advanced through the streets, oblivious to everything but the task at hand. Eventually, he came to a halt at the end of an alley and concentrated on the building across from him.

The man who called himself Reed read the sign on the building. The words, "The Shrunken Tavern" were painted in large red letters over the doors.

Reed walked up the front steps, cringing as they creaked under his weight. He set his hand tentatively on the doorknob before pushing it open. Once inside, he took a breath, breathing in the faint smell of dust and alcohol.

It seemed to be a decent establishment.

There was a single patron, slumped over a chair. He was snoring quite loudly. It looked like he had been there since the night before.

The bartender was the only other person in the room. He was a rather stout man with a thick neck and a bushy mustache. He stood at the bar, wiping down the counter in preparation for the day.

"Morning," the bartender greeted. "How may I help you?"

Reed walked toward him and took a seat.

"My friend said this place has good drinks. So I thought I would check it out," Reed said.

The bartender scoffed. "It's a bit early to be drinking."

"It has been a rough week," he said, feigning a smile.

The bartender shook his head. "Alright, what would you like?"

"I'm actually a bit indecisive at the moment," Reed said.

"Well, what did your friend have?"

Reed looked him in the eye. "Premium Gin on the rocks."

The bartender's face fell.

"What's it to you?" he asked.

Reed hoped that he wasn't making a mistake.

"Just here on a suggestion from a friend."

The bartender rolled his eyes and began to wipe down a bottle. "It's too public to talk out here. Step into the back."

If Reed had been more awake, he would have insisted that they finish their conversation right where they were. Secluded meetings, although private, were excellent places to murder someone.

Nevertheless as Reed approached the back room, he slipped his hand into his pocket and grasped his knife.

Behind him, he could hear the bartender's footsteps echoing off the floorboards. He concentrated on that, listening for changes in pace, anything that could signal an attack.

Reed had just barely gotten a glimpse of the backroom when he was suddenly tackled to the ground. He let out a grunt as the air was knocked out of him. Knees pressed into his back and his face was planted against the ground. Reed swung his knife wildly, but a second pair of hands wretched the knife from his grip.

Were there two of them?

Reed began to yell, but a dirty rag was pushed into his mouth. He gagged against the bitterness.

Despite the weight on him, he knew that this person was far too light to be the bartender. That meant he had two attackers: the bartender and this mystery person.

Getting out of this was going to be tough.

The person on top of him shifted, using their legs to pin Reed's arms to his side. Frantic, Reed attempted to throw them off. The person cursed, their voice distinctively higher pitched. A woman perhaps?

Reed cringed as fingernails gripped his hair and rammed his head against the floor. The room swam around him. He stopped struggling, suddenly very dizzy.

"Who is this?" the woman asked.

The bartender stepped forward. He seemed to be standing somewhere to Reed's left.

"He's dressed like a construction worker, but he knew the code."

The woman tensed.

"Check him for weapons," she said.

Reed cursed himself. It wouldn't take them long to find his gun. Just how was he going to explain that?

Sure enough, within moments the bartender had pulled the weapon from Reed's belt.

"Found a gun," he said.

The woman cursed again. "We'll have to bind him. Pass me the rope," she said.

Reed turned his head towards her voice. Now that his head had stopped swimming, he could focus. He could be imagining it, but her voice sounded vaguely familiar.

Reed felt them pull his wrists together. He began to struggle again. If they managed to restrain him, it would only be harder to get free. But despite his efforts, Reed felt the rope loop around his wrists. He formed his hands into fists and tried with all his might to throw the woman off his back. The woman swore and pushed his sleeves up, attempting to get a firm hold.

Suddenly she stopped, her grip going slack.

Reed started to thrash around, but the bartender leaned forward and pinned his wrists down.

"What is it?" the bartender asked.

The woman didn't answer, but Reed felt her fingers trace his bracelet.

"Let him go," she said.

"What!?" the man exclaimed. "Why-"

"Let him go," the woman demanded.

All at once, Reed felt the grip on his wrists disappear. A second later, the weight on his back was lifted as well.

Instantly, Reed tore the gag from his mouth. He coughed several times, the racid aftertaste lingering in his mouth. He dragged himself to his feet, briefly scanning the bartender before shifting his attention to his companion.

His eyes instantly went wide.

'No'

How could he have not recognised her voice?

"Well, are you going to say hello or just keep gawking?" Viera teased.

Reed stood, completely dumbstruck, trying to process the situation before him.

It was almost too good to be true.

"Viera," he managed to say. "It's good to see you again."

The bartender did not look amused. He glared at Reed.

"You two know each other?" he asked.

Viera turned to face him, her expression suddenly cold.

"Don't you have a bar to run?" she asked.

"It's morning."

"Does it look like I care?"

The bartender glanced at Reed.

Viera rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry. He's an old friend," she said. "We're just going to talk. No need for you to listen in."

The bartender scowled. For a second, it looked like he would refuse. But Viera stood her ground, unrelenting. After a moment, the bartender began to exit the room. He shot Reed a dirty look as he left, eyes full of scorn.

Reed watched the door shut behind him and turned his attention back to Viera.

She was taller than what he remembered. Her wavy dark brown hair seemed richer, her back straighter, shoulders wider. Even though she was still the same person, there was a distinctive change in her. The sparkle in her eye was brighter than ever.

"Well," Viera said. "So much for 'I'll never see you again.'"

Reed scratched his neck. "About that-"

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said. "I'm sure you have a good reason for showing up."

"It's not that simple," Reed said.

Viera studied his expression, likely considering the gravity of the situation. Her friend was a spy. The only reason he was here was because someone ordered him to. Nothing more. She pursed her lips, no doubt taking in the stress and sorrow ingrained in his expression.

"You've had a rough time as well."

He nodded, knowing that her circumstances were just as unfavorable. She was part of a resistance group fighting against a powerful government. Like him, she had sold her soul for the cause, sacrificing everything she had for the fight.

He looked at her. Now that she was no longer smiling, he could see the stress clearly on her face.

They both had changed.

"Tell you what," Viera said, voice returning to its cheerful tone. "Let's eat first. Then once we've perked up a bit, we can share our grievances."

Reed traced his bracelet, his chest swelling with a long forgotten warmth.

There was a small stove in the back of the room, half hidden by a wall of crates and boxes. Viera turned it on and set a pan over the flame. She found some sausages and plopped half a dozen onto the pan. Afterwards, she began to rummage through the nearby crates.

"Do you want a plum?" she asked, holding up the fruit.

"Yes, please," Reed said. He was desperate to get the foul taste of the rag out of his mouth.

Viera tossed him one, before fetching another for herself.

"Do you know what my favorite part of Ukon is?" she asked, taking a bite. "The fresh food. I swear I am never touching another can."

"It wasn't that bad," he said.

"Yes it was," she said. "It was the worst thing about being in that forest."

Reed raised an eyebrow. "Even worse than the mosquitos?"

Viera scowled. "Now that's a tough call."

Reed smiled to himself.

Viera fell silent, chomping down on the remainder of her fruit, and turning her attention back to the pan.

Reed took another slow bite of his plum.

"So how are the Wolves?" he asked.

Viera didn't answer him. She had found a carton of eggs and plopped a few onto the pan as well.

"The same," she said. "But forget about me for a second. How have you been?"

He shrugged. "Things have been alright. Mediocre, I guess."

"Mediocre? You're a Drachman spy. I would think your life would be more interesting," Viera teased.

Reed blinked.

"Drachma?" he paused. "I never told you where I was from."

Viera shook her head.

"You didn't," she said. "But Amber sure can run her mouth."

"Amber?"

"That's the name of the new contact. Or at least that's what she said it was."

Reed tilted his head. Drachman spies always went by aliases.

"So what super secret spy missions have you been up to?" Viera asked.

Reed swallowed. He didn't want to talk about that.

"Tell me about the Wolves first," he said.

Viera looked at him and sighed.

"I might as well get this over with." She poked at the pan. "If you don't know by now, our former leader is dead."

"Really?" Reed gasped. "What happened?"

"We're not sure. It could have been murder, an accident, or just an illness. It really doesn't matter." She turned off the stove. "We lost a damn good leader."

She reached for some plates.

"The former second in command and I have taken over operations. To say that things have been difficult would be an understatement. It seems that everyone has a different idea on how to proceed. Some people think we should be more violent. Others think we should have more passive resistance. While some believe we should try to petition and reason with the military. And still others believe they would never listen to us. It's all a nice wonderful mess," she said.

"And what do you think?" Reed asked.

"My personal beliefs don't matter," Viera said. "I will do whatever is necessary to protect the Wolves."

Reed looked down, contemplating what she said.

"So," Viera said as she began to scoop the food onto the plates. "I spilled my junk. Now it's your turn."

Might as well get it over with.

"Over the past two years I have been ordered to impersonate an Amestrian soldier." Viera looked up at him, but he avoided her gaze. "My current mission," he paused again. "The military has sent me, along with an intelligence team, to investigate the White Wolves."

He looked up.

Viera was staring at him. The plate in her hand was slipping from her grip, its contents threatening to fall on the floor.

Reed stepped forward to straighten her plate.

Viera blinked, coming to her senses.

"An intel team? Do they know-"

"I haven't said anything," Reed said. "We haven't been able to find out much. Our major breakthrough has been that group of vandals."

"Those kids?" Viera said. "Oh, they're nothing to worry about. We're only using them as pawns while we prepare for our real plan."

"May I ask what that is?" Reed said.

Viera looked at him. "Depends, which side are you on?"

On reflex, Reed fell silent. However, he began to realize that the answer was quite simple. Even if it hadn't been, he had no desire to lie. Viera was his friend.

"My first obligation is to Drachma," Reed said, truthfully. "The Amestrian military is our shared enemy, so I do whatever is necessary to help you succeed in your plans."

Viera nodded, understanding.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"Or something like that."

She smiled and handed him his plate.

"Tell me about this intelligence team," she said.

"The team has only been in Ukon for five days. There are four people counting myself: Colonel Mustang, his Lieutenant, and the Fullmetal Alchemist."

Viera furrowed her brow. "Colonel Mustang? Why is someone of his rank on an intelligence mission?"

"He claimed it's because he's a State Alchemist, but I doubt it. My best guess is that it has something to do with Edward Elric, but I haven't been able to prove anything."

"Edward Elric," Viera said. "That name sounds familiar."

"He is very popular in the East," Reed said.

"No, I feel like someone was telling me about him." She shook her head. "I'll probably remember it later."

She began to shove an entire egg into her mouth.

"Tell me everything that the team has found out so far."

"It's really not that much," Reed said. "They have been sent to find out how many people are associated with the Wolves and to analyze their defensive capabilities. However so far they have not been able to identify a single member of the Wolves, let alone weapon storages or hideouts. As I said before, the major breakthrough has been the kid gang. The current plan has been to watch them and see if they let anything slip."

"And have they?"

"Ed managed to overhear a conversation. Two of the vandals seemed to be discussing meeting with some of your members."

"What were their names?" Viera asked.

"Paul and Meg."

"Meg," Viera said. "That may be a problem."

"You know her?" Reed said.

"I know her father. He used to be a member, but he left after the former leader died. I'm not sure just how much Meg knows. But if the intel team closes in on her, they might be in for a breakthrough."

"We should feed them some misinformation then. Distract them and focus their attention on something else."

Viera nodded. "I'll probably order the vandals to do some weird jobs. Stake out an empty building, collect some blueprints, and tail random people. Just enough to distract the intel team."

She paused as she began to shovel down on her food, eating at quite an astonishing rate.

Reed took a small bite of sausage, relishing in the flavor.

"You should take smaller bites," Reed said. "You don't want to choke."

"Eggs have a minimal choking hazard," Viera said, as she shoved another in her mouth. "And cut me some slack, I haven't eaten since yesterday's breakfast."

"It's not healthy to go hungry," Reed teased.

Viera took a big bite from her sausage and rolled her eyes. "As if you're one to talk. You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I've been busy," Reed said.

"Same here," Viera teased. "So why don't we both cut each other some slack and finish eating."

Reed smiled and chewed on his food.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, until Viera had finished her plate.

"So what were you doing that required so much of your attention," he said, setting his half eaten plate to the side.

"I was preparing for something," Viera said.

"Care to elaborate?"

"It's really something that you have to see for yourself," she smiled, eyes sparkling. "Tell you what, come by the forest this evening and I'll show you."

"You're serious?" Reed said.

"Of course I am. Do you remember where the old cliffs are?"

"Yes."

"How about that old cave on the base of the cliffs?"

"How could I? You practically shoved me in there that one time everyone was mad at me."

"It was your fault for dropping that wasp nest."

"That was an accident."

"So you say," Viera said. "Anyway, meet me by that cave, maybe at six o'clock. I'll explain everything then."

"Alright."

Viera smiled and reached out to take his plate. "You barely ate a thing."

"Hey, I have to go back to the inn and eat another breakfast there," Reed said. "People will be suspicious if I don't."

"So," Viera said, as she began to eat his leftovers. "More food."

Reed shook his head. "How are you still eating?"

"I'm hungry," Viera said defensively.

Reed rolled his eyes playfully, his lips curling upwards.

It was a weird feeling, after so many years of loneliness, to suddenly find oneself in the company of an old friend.

Ed tapped his foot against the floor, trying to think of a more useless way to spend his evening.

For the past fifteen minutes he had been forced to listen to the vandals drone on about their upcoming plans. Seriously, it did not take that long to go over the construction site's security. Unfortunately, Paul seemed determined to scrutinize every single detail. He wanted to make sure there were no drawbacks, no surprises, and that little to nothing could go wrong.

It was almost as if he was scared of something.

Ed gritted his teeth, very aware of his aching ribs. He tried his best to shake it off, glancing around the room once more.

Paul was standing next to the table. The kids had clustered around him, gazing at the papers in his hands.

Meanwhile, Meg was standing towards the back, right next to Ed. She kept glancing at her watch every few minutes. At first Ed thought that she was just as bored as he was, but now he was starting to get curious. What was Meg waiting for?

As if on cue, Paul began to speak.

"That should be enough for today," he said, putting the papers away.

The kids looked around, confused.

"But we haven't-"

"This evening I have something very important to take care of, so we'll discuss it tomorrow," Paul said, moving towards the door. "This meeting is dismissed."

He stepped through the doorway and disappeared onto the streets.

Ed stood still for a moment, surprised at the sudden shift in conversation. Beside him, Meg scoffed.

"He made it sound so serious," she said.

Ed looked at her. Meg was smiling softly, as if amused at Paul's words.

"What do you mean?"

Meg briefly glanced around to see if anyone was listening in.

"Well, the 'important' event he was talking about," she said, a mischievous grin on her face. "His mom is dragging him out for a haircut."

Ed held back a snort.

"Really?"

"Yup," Meg said. "The way he said it you would think he was going to an award ceremony or something."

She stepped towards the door and Ed followed her. He still had time before he was supposed to report back. If Paul wasn't doing anything noteworthy, then he might as well hang out with Meg.

"Have you seen the forest yet?" she asked as they casually walked down a road.

Ed nodded. "We walked through it on the way here."

"You're lucky. The forest is so beautiful this time of year." She tilted her head. "You know, there are these white and blue flowers that bloom around this time. Did you happen to see any?"

Ed shook his head.

"I don't really remember," he said.

"That's alright," she said, "I was actually going to collect some for a bouquet. Would you like to come with me? They bloom right on the edge of the forest."

"Sure," Ed said.

They kept up a casual conversation as they walked to the town's edge. At first, it was just as calming and natural as it had been. However, Ed could not deny the uneasiness that was slowly growing within him.

Something was wrong.

He scanned his eyes back and forth, looking for anything strange.

There were more people about than one would expect. They weren't doing anything suspicious. One man was standing at a street corner, smoking a cigarette. A woman was washing her windows. Another person was sitting on a chair, reading a newspaper. They seemed awfully ordinary. However there was something about them, Ed began to realize, that was troublesome.

It was only when he managed to make eye contact with one, only for them to immediately look away, did Ed realise what was going on.

These people were watching them.

It was very subtle, a chance glance here, a lingering gaze there, but it was too frequent to be a coincidence.

Meg seemed to notice too.

She hadn't said anything, but she had picked up her pace and was steering them down the streets with the least amount of people.

Ed wondered why they were attracting this attention. Was it their mere presence or something else?

They turned into a deserted alley, intending to cut between two streets. They were halfway through when a group of people seemingly walked right out of the shadows. Ed was startled for a moment, surprised at their sudden appearance.

Where had they come from?

A chill ran down Ed's spine and he spun around, only to find the exit blocked off by another group of people.

Damn it.

There were six people in front and five people behind them. They were sneering, eyes glued on Meg.

Ed glanced at her. For a second, there was a look of pure terror on her face. Her mouth was agape and her hands started to tremble. She quickly shook her head, regaining herself. Her initial expression was quickly masked with a cold glare. At her sides, her hands formed into fists.

Ed had the sudden feeling that she had dealt with these people before.

Around them, the group began to close in. A few cracked their knuckles.

Ed cursed himself. Even if these people weren't accustomed to fighting, their sheer numbers would be a challenge, and without alchemy, Ed doubted that he would be able to fight them head on.

One of them looked Ed in the eye.

"Beat it, kid," he said. "We have no business with you."

Meg turned to face him.

"Go on," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "I'll be fine."

Ed shook his head. He had no intention of leaving her here alone.

"What do you guys want?" Ed asked, addressing the crowd.

"None of your business," another said. "Now scram."

Meg reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Please go," she said. "You don't need to get involved with this. Please."

Ed stood his ground.

One of them, a tall man with a beard, moved towards the front of the crowd.

"Meg, since when did you hang out with construction workers?" he said, clicking his tongue. "It's so unlike you to keep such poor company."

Meg's grip on Ed's wrist tightened and she gave him a pleading look.

Ed pulled his wrist from her grasp and stepped forward.

"Can we help you with something?" he asked.

"Excuse me," the bearded man said.

"Well you did corner us here, so I thought you must want something," Ed said, looking him in the eye.

The bearded man feigned a smile. "Look, this does not concern you. You should leave while you still can."

"And if I don't?"

The bearded man narrowed his eyes. "Meg, perhaps we should walk you home. If you are starting to hang around scum like these, then who knows what else you're into." His eyes glistened. "And perhaps it's also time we paid a visit to your father."

Meg snapped to face him, her eyes wide in terror. The group chuckled in response. Another man stepped forward and rested his hands on her shoulders. Meg stiffened.

"You better behave now," he whispered in her ear.

Anger welled in Ed's stomach.

"Let go of her," he growled.

The group laughed again.

"Why?" the man said, tightening his grip on her shoulders. "What are you going to do to stop me?"

"Listen boy," the bearded man said, "You're only trying to look out for your friend. I get it. But sometimes things are a bit more complicated than that, sometimes it's best to look after yourself. Now look around. You're surrounded. Luckily for you, we don't have anything against you. We're only here to teach Meg and her father a lesson. And unless you want to learn that lesson too, I suggest you leave. Now."

Ed looked him in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Well you're a cocky one," the bearded man said. "Oh well."

Suddenly, arms clamped around his waist and he was lifted into the air, limbs flailing.

The group hooted, bloodlust in their eyes.

"Let him go!" Meg screeched. She stepped forward to intervene, but was knocked to the ground.

The bearded man casually looked at her. "Try not to hurt her too much. She's a vital contact to the vandals." He turned back to Ed. "This one on the other hand-"

Ed gasped as the man's fist crashed into his abdomen. The arm around him slacked and he fell to the ground.

"I was going to ignore you," the man said. "But now you've pissed me off."

Ed glanced up, looking the bearded man in the eyes. Three weeks ago, he would have stood up and punched the man in the face. Three weeks ago, he wouldn't have hesitated. But that was three weeks ago, and this was now. As much as he hated to admit it, Ed was injured, both physically and mentally.

A foot crashed into his abdomen.

Ed shrieked.

The pain in his chest was nauseating, unbearable. Somewhere behind him he was dimly aware of Meg screaming, but his mind was too muddled to stand up, let alone help her. He closed his eyes tight and tried to block out the sound. Another foot crashed into his back and he stifled a scream. His head felt light, dizzy, as if he was about to pass out. He couldn't tell if it was because he was hyperventilating or just the pain. Maybe it was both.

Hands lifted and heaved him up to his knees. He opened his eyes to find himself face to face with the bearded man. He was smiling, a sickening look of satisfaction on his face.

"See boy, this is what happens when you cross us," the bearded man said, raising his fist.

Ed couldn't help it, he found himself shrinking back, unable to stop the trembling in his hands. His breath hitched in his chest and he found himself wishing, begging, that whatever they did, they wouldn't hit him in the ribs.

So naturally, the gunshot startled him too.

His eyes went wide as the sound echoed through the alley.

Did they shoot Meg?

Were they going to shoot him too?

But the jeering had stopped, and no one was hitting him anymore.

What was going on?

Cautiously, Ed turned and looked in the direction of the noise.

A woman was standing at the end of the alley, smoking gun in hand.

He studied her for a moment. Eyes scanning several times, trying to find something distinguishing, something to identify her by. He stared for several seconds before he realized that he hadn't taken in one detail. His mind was still too frazzled to process anything. He looked over her again, finally focusing on her wavy dark brown hair. He was certain that he had never seen her before.

Ed looked to the group surrounding them. They had all froze, eyes wide, and mouths agape slightly.

One might even say they looked scared.

The woman walked towards them, gun raised. Her eyes scanned them, no doubt assessing the situation.

She turned to face the bearded man. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Look, we were only teaching Meg and her friend a lesson. We didn't-"

"Meg," the woman said, interrupting him. "Tell me what happened."

"We were just going out for a walk, when we were cornered," Meg said. "They threatened us and when we tried to stand up for ourselves, they attacked us."

The woman faced the bearded man, a dangerous look in her eye.

"So once again, you let your impulses get the better of you."

"Viera, we were just-"

"Save it!" the woman spat.

The bearded man fell silent, eyeing her with cold hatred.

"Meg," she said. "Take your friend and go."

Meg didn't need to be told twice, she pulled herself from the ground and grasped Ed's arm, pulling him upright. As they turned to leave, the woman suddenly grasped Meg's arm.

"Make sure, he stays quiet about this," she said, her eyes resting on Ed.

Meg nodded.

The second the woman released her, Meg tightened her grip on Ed's wrist and together they bolted down the alley. They kept running, racing through the streets. A few people raised their eyebrows as they passed, but they didn't stop. Not when Ed stumbled over a curb and not when Meg almost ran into a wall. They sprinted, gasping, chests heaving, adrenaline coursing through their veins, as the world passed in a blur around them. Further and further, until their feet ached and their legs were weak and wobbly. Together they slowed to a stop and collapsed against a wall.

Ed leaned against the cool bricks, legs giving out beneath him. His entire chest was burning now, an aching pain resonating through his bones. Closing his eyes, he brought his knees to his chest and tried to remember how to breathe.

"Are you alright?" Meg asked, her voice sounding oddly far off.

Ed's heart was pounding in his chest. He was shaking, sweat dripping off his brow. He opened his mouth, trying to find the words to say.

Meg rested her hand on his forehead.

"You're burning up," she said.

Ed shivered.

No. It couldn't be a fever. Fever meant infection and infection meant-

"Maybe you should take off your hat and gloves," she said, "It'll help you cool down."

Ed shook his head frantically, taking a shaky breath as tears gathered in his eyes. He couldn't respond. He couldn't say anything. It was as if he was trapped, unable to move, like something was pressing down on him, knocking the air from his lungs. He felt small, alone, and so very afraid.

He rested his forehead on his knees and let out a shaky sob.

"I need to take off your hat and gloves," Meg said. "Please, it'll help you cool down."

She reached over and lifted his hat from his head. Then she pulled off his gloves. Both of them.

Ed looked up at her through glassy eyes.

If Meg was surprised by his automail, she didn't show it. She simply reached for his wrist, checking his pulse.

"Try to take deep breaths. Inhale and exhale slowly," she said.

Ed focused on her voice, breathing deeply until he could feel his heart begin to slow down, and the moment finally passed.

Meg released his wrist and they sat in silence for a few moments.

"Do you feel alright now?" she asked.

Ed nodded.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice weak.

Meg looked into his eyes.

"Have you ever had an anxiety attack like that before?" she asked.

Ed shook his head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"Just who were those people?" he said, changing the subject.

Meg looked away.

"Were they part of the White Wolves?" he asked.

Meg closed her eyes and nodded.

"It's complicated..." she said, trailing off. "Some of the Wolves can be very temperamental. It's best to avoid them."

Ed nodded. Briefly, he thought of pressing for more information, but he dismissed it. They had dealt with enough today. He slowly pulled his gloves back on and began to fit his hair back into his hat.

"I'm sorry," Meg said.

"What for?"

"This evening," she said.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You couldn't have known that those people would come after us," Ed said.

Meg didn't respond.

He continued. "And even if you did, it still wouldn't be your fault. You aren't responsible for other people's actions."

Meg looked away. "We should get going."

They said nothing as they walked through the streets, slowly making their way to the center of town. Together, they came to a stop at a street corner, watching as people walked past.

"It's best if you head straight back to the inn. Just in case," Meg said, looking down. "Tomorrow, there's going to be a meeting to finish going over our plan. Will you be there?"

"I will," Ed said.

"Well then, I'll see you tomorrow," Meg said, stepping forward into the street.

"Bye," Ed said, watching as she disappeared into the crowd.

The moment she was gone, Ed turned around and began to walk back to the northern part of town.

Deep down he knew that he was making a mistake, that he should probably just report back and return to the inn. In truth he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed, wrap the covers around him, and drift off into sleep. To escape the world, if only for a few hours.

But Mustang would be at the inn, and he would certainly notice that something was wrong.

Ed gritted his teeth. In a way he hated how much Mustang cared, hated how he treated him like a child, as if he didn't know any better.

It was infuriating.

Had Mustang forgotten all he had been through? Even though he was dragged to hell and back, over and over, he still managed to get up every time.

He did it because he was strong, because he could. Because there was no one else he could rely on, no one left to be weak around.

That had died with his mother.

Ed gripped his collar, his ribs aching. They were just physical wounds. Why couldn't they heal?

The doctor had warned him about this. One night at the hospital after Al had gone out for a walk, the doctor had slipped into Ed's room to talk to him. He warned him that he might have some psychological effects from his ordeal. That he might feel off for a few weeks before things went back to normal, if things went back to normal.

Ed had brushed him off. He had endured losing two limbs. He could endure some battle wounds.

Right?

Ed shook his head, he needed to focus.

According to Meg, the group they had run into were part of the White Wolves. If that was true, then it was likely that that woman, Viera, was someone important. Ed made a mental note to find out more about her later.

He then refocused his attention on Meg. More importantly, why did Meg want to go to the edge of the forest?

She claimed that she wanted flowers for a bouquet, but the more Ed thought about it, the less it made sense. Firstly, he didn't remember seeing any white and blue flowers walking into Ukon. Secondly, she had told that woman that they had been out on a walk. And based on her reactions, it was as if she already knew what might happen and had accepted the dangers. So then, why would she still do it?

What could be that important?

From the conversation he had overheard between Meg and Paul, Meg wanted to visit the White Wolves' headquarters, however Paul had been cautious, practically begging her to reconsider. In hindsight, it was awfully convenient that the one day Paul was busy, Meg would suddenly decide to visit the forest.

That made it extremely likely that there was something important in that forest, something Meg was desperate to see.

As Ed continued down the street, he briefly considered getting backup. After all, searching the forest was both dangerous and required manpower.

However, both Hawkeye and Reed were busy gathering intelligence. Even if he did manage to find them, he didn't trust either of them to not tell Mustang. And he was certain that Mustang would never allow him to go into the forest, even if it was the most logical option.

It was humiliating. To be treated as if he was weak, like he would break open at any moment.

Ed didn't want Mustang's pity. He didn't need anything from that man. He could do it all alone. Without anyone's help.

A grin crossed over his face.

Yes, he could do it all alone. He could search the forest and find out what the White Wolves were hiding.

Then he would prove to them, all of them, just what he was capable of.

This was his chance to redeem himself.

Ed began to walk faster, in the direction of the forest. Fully intending to search it alone.

Reed walked through the forest, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

He was following a trail that ran alongside the cliff. Few Wolves used this particular route, instead opting to use the hidden path that led directly to the main camp. So Reed doubted he would run into anyone.

He turned from the path and began to walk deep into the forest, eyes scanning for someplace secluded. It was almost five o'clock. That meant he had an hour to himself. Plenty of time to clear his head.

Back in Drachma, the snow covered trees and pristine mountains always eased his mind. But this forest was different, it felt different, smelt different, and there was too much green and not enough white.

In reality, Reed knew he had no business being here. It was foolish really. Stupid to think that his mind would ever stop running and that pressure on his chest would ever lift. He was merely chasing old childhood nostalgia, trying to grasp what was already lost.

It was pointless.

Yet still, he found himself drawn here. And perhaps if he just closed his eyes, it might feel real. Even for just a second.

Reed sat down on a patch of clovers, running his hands through the foliage.

He had meant what he told Viera.

He was fully willing to aid the White Wolves in their plans, whatever they may be.

There were plenty of reasons behind this decision. In fact, it was the most logical decision to make. However Reed couldn't deny that he had a deeper, more personal reason for deciding this.

He didn't want Viera to die.

She was his friend, this morning had proved that. Sure she teased him for being a spy, but she never judged him for it. She accepted him for the person he was. And when he stood next to her, he felt a glimmer of light within himself. As if all was not lost.

Yes, he would help Viera.

That decision felt right.

However despite his certainness, there was one thing weighing him down. One doubt that continued to taunt him, unceasing.

Amber's question.

Did he regret what he did during the Parktown Incident?

Right now, he felt very close to regretting it.

And right now, he couldn't be more disgusted with himself.

Why?

Even if he could ignore everything: his Drachman orders, his place in the Amestrian military, even the fact that his family might be dead because of him. Would he have done something different?

Most importantly, why was he still dwelling on this? The incident had been processed and filed away, the weapons cleaned, the bodies buried, everyone else had moved on, so why couldn't he?

What was he missing?

Even if he did find out what, if he identified why that incident still struck him to his core.

Would it really make a difference?

'You know the answer to that question'

Reed was silent for a long time, staring blankly into the trees.

Then, he tilted his head back and gazed into the blue sky.

No matter where he went, the color of the sky never changed. That one detail had never been taken from him.

Slowly, he laid back against the clovers.

One more time.

He needed to relive it one more time.

And maybe this time, he will find what he missed.

Author's Note:

I think it's pretty obvious that the next chapter is going to deal with the Parktown Incident. I need to get that out of the way before Reed's character arc can make any major headway. I am very excited for the next couple of chapters. Pretty soon all these plot points will be converging and it is going to be wonderful and horrible at the same time.

Fun Fact:

Reed and the entire Operation Dagger could have easily originated from Aerugo. However, I chose Drachma instead because I cannot easily spell or say "Aerugo."