KEYnote: They aren't in Dublith and I know Tucker was accredited with a lot of this shit. But I'm going to assume there were more scientists that Tucker was supposed to replace. Also, I know this doesn't match any timelines, but see the fucks I give about specifics, look at them, my friends, look at all the fucks I do not give! Aren't they beautiful?

Chapter 6 - Friends

Ed glowered up at Grand, "Excuse me?"

"Fullmetal," Mustang warned.

Ed didn't back down and he suspected strongly that Grand was sneering down at him beneath his moustache.

"I would like to know your competency in the field," Grand said. "As it so happens, we have a course set up for all alchemists to pass to retain their rank. Although your full evaluation will not be until next year, you will need to prove that your recent surgery hasn't left you inept."

Ed gritted his teeth, he had plans today. He had contacts to meet with and information to trade.

He had very specific questions for an old friend.

"Fine," Ed nearly spat. "Let's get this over with."

Roy called Maes, "Grand pulled him into the Trials."

—As much as I would love to watch my son set a new record. I do have actual work to do. Have fun.

"Maes, wait—"

But he had already hung up, he looked up to Riza, questions in his eyes.

"Let's go," was her only reply.

Roy sighed, "I'll get my exam done too then."

By the time they got to the extended gym, Edward was already out of his long sleeve and coat, waiting for Armstrong to finish. There were new and old scars around Edward's shoulder that were made more noticeable by his tan.

"Excellent time," the score keeper said, signing off on the form as Armstrong easily pulled himself out of what some called the Pit. "Twenty seconds faster than last year."

Edward sighed, looking back at Roy. "Go ahead, Colonel. Seems Grand wants to waste time today."

It was strange the moments Edward picked when and where to remember rank and ceremony.

But the team, everyone save Havoc who was running an errand to a different office, relaxed in relief.

If Edward didn't show formal respect to Roy, the higher ups might re-assign him to another team.

And Grand was watching them as if he wished he knew how to make blood boil.

Roy sighed, shrugging out of his coat, folding it before placing it on the bench, followed by the belt, gun, watch, and gloves. He was less careful with his undershirt.

He hadn't done this course in a few years, the one in East City was not as rigorous, but he worked out at the gym daily each morning. There were a number of ways to get through it.

The ground was sunk in fifteen feet so everything anyone did was visible. There were a number of obstacles, bars, and climbing walls.

Roy dove into the pool.

He might not love water on the battlefield, but he did enjoy swimming. He pulled himself out of the pool, then began running the jumps, his boots squelching with each running jump to the end of the course. He rang the bell. His hands were dry enough by the end to take the bars back to the starting line.

"Staying in shape, I see, Mustang," Grand said dryly.

Roy nodded, fighting to relax his breathing.

Armstrong looked slightly annoyed that his time had been beaten by a full minute.

Roy wasn't the largest man, nor the most agilic or flexible, but he did alright.

And while Armstrong could lift more than Roy could ever hope to, there weren't many who could best Roy's efficiency.

Edward looked thoroughly unimpressed, "To the wall and back?"

"If you can," Grand entoned. "Ring the bell then return back to the start. No alchemy."

Ed walked backward, putting a hand to his heart, "Oh no, how will I ever survive without alchemy?"

"Fullmetal!" Fury cried.

Edward grinned as he fell back over the edge.

But not where the pool was located.

They all ran to the edge, including Grand.

Roy saw the pull on one of the rails extended over the rink followed by one of the climbing ropes going taught before he saw Edward rise back up.

Many Alchemists chose the rope to go up or down the wall. But the teenager had used the momentum of his fall and caught the rope midway down to swing himself back upward.

The obstacle course was set up so the suspended challenges were spaced too far to swing yourself across.

But apparently Fullmetal had a different perspective on gravity as he let go of the rope at the top of the arch.

If he fell from that height it would be twenty feet or more, but his body didn't fall, it twisted in mid air.

He did two back flips then caught the support rail to a ring set that dangled below.

Edward in a two hand grip kept his momentum going as he launched himself to the next functional rod that shouldn't have been reachable.

This time, full metal caught it with his hands, hard, his grip slipped but he seemed to effortlessly switch so he spun on the pole on bent knees.

"Holy fuck," Breda breathed.

Hanging upside down well above the course, Edward tugged off the hair elastic at the end of his braid.

"What is he doing?" Falman whispered in horror.

Roy's own jaw went a bit slack as Ed slingshot the hair elastic at the end of the bell's clapper dead on.

The bell rang and Edward pulled himself up on the bar from a handstand to a balanced crouch, one leg extended on the bar.

He looked up at them all with a devious smile.

Roy paled as he realized the obstacle beneath him was a climbing net.

Again, Ed let himself fall, and again, gravity rejected him upward.

This time not all the way up to the support rails —that were meant to support the obstacles not be the obstacles— but he didn't need to as he caught hold of the rings and twisted himself forward. He hit the ground in a painless roll, rising to his feet with incredible speed and strength.

He didn't so much as climb the rock wall but run up it.

He made it back to the line, breathing heavy but all smiles.

"Fuck," Breda said.

Falman swatted him on the back of the head.

"Hughes did not teach you how to do that," Roy said, regaining his composure as the scorekeepers compared notes.

Fullmetal shook his head, "Maes is my dad, not my teacher. I also, you know, have friends."

"In the military?" Grand asked.

Edward gave him expression that clearly asked are you stupid, but Fullmetal simply sassed him instead of mortally offending the Brigidar General by asking, "How many teenagers do you know in the military?"

"You never attended school," Grand countered.

"Why would I? There's nothing they could teach me that I don't already know."

"You think you're a genius," Grand spat, getting angry.

"I think I didn't study a wit for the State Alchemist exam and still got through it in an hour."

"Only a child thinks they know everything," Grand snapped.

Edward scoffed, "I'm not that arrogant. I'm not a doctor or an automail mechanic. There are more things I can name than I would ever be able to call myself efficient in. But those things are beyond highschool and the skillset I do have is suited to being a State Alchemist. So if it's all the same to you; I would like to get back to my investigation, Sir."

Grand glowered down at him, "You are dismissed, Fullmetal."

Edward at least saluted him before marching out of the gym.

"He set the record," the time keeper said.

"He didn't reach the wall," Grand snarled before leaving, obviously in a towering temper.

Roy exchanged a look with Armstrong, it didn't really matter that Fullmetal hadn't reached the wall. The teen had been utterly fearless, managed to get around the course design, had out smarted the bell without alchemy and made it back to the finish.

"Do you think Hughes didn't want to see him fall fifteen, knowing he would be fine?" Fury asked.

They all looked at him. And Roy couldn't help recalling his conversation with his best friend.

Does your son even have any faults?

Yes, his virtues are proportional to the trouble he attracts.

Ed decided to take the long way round.

Ordinarily, a sixteen year old entering a bar that hosted gamblers, prostitutes, and a really sassy bar tender that may or may not know an assassin or two would raise some warning bells.

Yet perhaps it was even stranger for a State Alchemist to be here.

It certainly wasn't something he told his father, but Ed did like having friends that could get run over by a truck and walk it off a minute later.

Of course, no one was going to see him in the actual Devil's Nest as he had an open invitation to the apartments above by way of an open window.

He was almost glad for Grand's little attempt at humiliation and the long way here because Martel —his serpentine elastic friend— and Roa —his oxen friend complete with horns and a body mass that could challenge Teacher's husband, Sig Curtis— wanted to play.

Ed spent the next half an hour literally running up the walls and ceiling as he scrambled to land a punch before they did.

He got Roa straight in the jaw with his flesh hand and dropped Martel and himself to the ground by getting her in a headlock with his legs.

"Hey kid," a familiar voice grinned from the doorway as Martel tapped out.

Dolcetto left the sofa to pull Ed off the ground into an all encompassing hug. Dolcetto was a dog chimaera and with the people he was afficanate with, he was very afficatitate with.

Except, no one could really best the male who came to push Ed down on the sofa with a threatening grin that was mostly a bearing of teeth.

"How is my Fullmetal Alchemist?" Greed who Ed often dubbed, Possessive Bastard, asked.

Ed knocked his hand away and pulled his feet up to sit cross legged on the cushions. "Again, my dad works in the military, me joining the military isn't going to suddenly change me or make me betray you."

Greed's smile softened to a pleased expression and he ruffled Ed's hair to sit beside him, arm going around Ed's shoulder, "And now I own a State Alchemist. My siblings would be so jealous."

Possessive Bastard, he thought fondly. Ed had long ago given up trying to change Greed's language. He might talk about everyone in this room as if they were pets, but Greed would slaughter the city if any one of them was ever in real danger.

"Especially," Martel said with a smirk, taking the other side of the couch, leaning against the armrest and propping her legs over Ed's lap. "If you have a sibling named, Envy."

Greed's smug expression faltered a bit.

Martel scoffed, "Did your parents hate you?"

"Parent, and yes, he does, that's why he made us."

"Why would someone make life just to hate their children?" Ed asked.

Greed ran his hand through Ed's hair that suddenly fell around his shoulder as the braid released.

Greed looked delighted by this and even Martel sat up to pet him.

"You have the best hair," she said, rubbing a lock between her fingers. "So soft and pretty."

"Okay," Ed said, shooing them off. And because Greed was an obnoxious fucker, he kept his hand tangled in Ed's hair, though thankfully stopped petting him. "But, Greed, I have questions."

Greed snorted, "And water is wet."

Ed kept his gaze, "You're a homunculus."

Greed stiffened but didn't pull away, his purple slitted eyes going wary.

"Well, aren't you?"

"And how do you measure artificial life, Elric-Hughes?"

Ed huffed, "Is that how you define it? Or is it just artificial birth? Were you a baby or did you just come into being?"

Greed blinked, his hand dropping from Ed's hair as he stared at him in astonishment.

"Come on, Greed," he waved to Martel, Roa, and Dolcetto. "All my friends are chimaeras, did you really think Humniculus would be a step too far? We've been friends since I was twelve."

Greed had called him a shrimp and Ed punched him in the face breaking only the man's glasses and then Ed had found himself in a fistfight with Martel.

Things hadn't changed much, except for Greed feeding him chocolate and his having a friend to bounce alchemic ideas off of. Greed didn't do Alchemy, but he enjoyed physics and discussing the theoretical boundaries of Alchemy.

Greed kind of looked at Alchemy like it was an art and he didn't have patience for actual art.

"And your friends in the military?" Greed asked. "Would they be okay with what I am?"

Ed shrugged, "You haven't hurt anyone who hasn't hurt you first. At least, not since I've known you."

"I'm two hundred years old," Greed answered flatly.

Ed cocked his head, "Because your body isn't human? What are you made of?"

Greed raised a brow, "You're the strangest child I've ever met."

"Yeah, well this child is going to Laboratory 5 next week and I would like to know what I am walking into."

Everyone stiffened.

I was right.

Martel touched his cheek, turning him to face her as she said, "You cannot go in there alone, Edward."

"I'm not," he said. "I'm not even sure they won't try to clear it out by the time I get to see. But is there anything there that you all would like to bring into the light of day?"

"You think you can stop it?" Roa asked. "What's stopping any of those scientists from continuing elsewhere?"

"Corruption and crime are enviable, but accountability and normality are not. The harder you make evil work, the fewer resources they will have to expand on their acts," Ed answered. It was something Maes had taught him, and his dad was rarely wrong about that kind of thing.

Greed sighed, "How were you more cynical at twelve?"

"Because, when I was eleven I tried bringing my mom back to life and paid for it with flesh, blood, and bone."

Everyone in the room fell quiet, staring at him with wide eyes.

But something seemed to change on Greed's face, appearing more outwardly empathetic than he usually allowed himself. He combed his fingers through Ed's hair, "You stupid boy."

Ed flushed but a part of him eased, learning that they weren't disgusted with him for committing that taboo.

He knew they wouldn't be okay with the military and while he was certain that human transmutation was a rather personal subject for them all, he couldn't ask his questions without them knowing how personal it was for him too.

Besides, after talking with Maes the night before, the truth of his crime had been eating at him.

He didn't know if he could handle the Hughes Family turning him out if they couldn't forgive him for the unforgivable.

But if Greed cast him out then it would only be fair given the nature of his existence.

"Is that why you left your original home?" Martel asked. "Or did they abandon you?"

"I left," he said. "I couldn't— I couldn't let my brother forgive me for what I had done. I watched our mom die again. I killed her, again, and it was ugly."

Greed tisked, lifting Ed's chin with a finger. "You can't bring the dead back to life. You may be able to catch a soul and trap it in another form or if you are a special sort of doctor, heal the incurable, but once someone is dead, that's it. A soul that passes on cannot be recovered."

"Its eyes were open, it breathed," Ed argued.

"You think every soul is capable of passing on?" Greed asked. "Some wills, some regrets are bigger than life. You traded a limb for a soul and a limb to breathe mechanical life into an organic form, but only for a minute. Its death was natural, and perhaps, even freeing. But it wasn't your mother."

"How do you know?" Ed demanded.

"How long was your mother dead before you attempted to bring her back?" Greed countered.

"Six years."

Greed was shaking his head, "You could have given her a soul a new body, with maybe a three minute window after her original body released her soul. But that is more like chimaera work than necromancy. The dead cannot be brought back. And unless your mother was a truly damnable person, in six years' time I have no doubt that she moved on. Whatever your regrets, you did not kill your mother."

Ed shut his eyes, fighting back tears.

Greed pulled him in close to his side, dwarfing Ed even if he was approaching average height now, and Martel wrapped herself around his other side.

Ed accepted for a full minute before he moved on, "I didn't make a homunculus though, right?"

Greed snorted, "No, Elric-Hughes, you did not. You would have needed to trade far more than an arm and a leg for a homunculus. You essentially made a fleshy plant and tried to stick a random soul caught in purgatory into it —and don't ask me how that works, I am not Truth."

Ed's eyes widened, "You know Truth too?"

Greed shook his head, "I know of it, of the Gate, but no, I only know about it because Father bitched about it all the time."

"So how were you born?"

Greed looked at him for a long moment, "My birth was accomplished at the cost of thousands upon thousands of deaths. If you ever want a child and find yourself incapable, I suggest adopting."

Ed blinked trying to digest that, and though mass death seemed unequivalent to the life of one, it didn't really when you got down to the science of it. Because to make a life out of nothing but alchemy, you had to jump millions upon millions of years in cellular evolution and mutation. You had to literally recreate DNA with nothing but energy directed by a knowledge base that belonged to existence, not to any singular person.
"You're not disgusted?" Greed asked, curious.

"Why should I be?" Ed asked. "You didn't create yourself. None of us gets to choose our parents or where or how we come into this world."

Greed laughed, wild, free, and joyous. "Oh, Elric-Hughes, you are one of my favourite belongings."

Ed rolled his eyes, "Back to my earlier question, were you a baby? Or just, as you are now?"

"My father has this thing against vices. Technically, I think I could have been a child, but that wasn't his design. He carved from himself his desire and his memories that made up those desires and created me around them." Greed tapped his head, "I carry with me parts of him. But I am more than him, I am myself plus the parts he carved out of himself."

Ed blinked thinking over Hohenheim's notes, "You're immortal."

"Longevity in full."

"Are you capable of performing alchemy?"

"No, none of us can. But I have other talents."

"How many are there? And where is your father now? If he killed that many people to make you, is he still killing people?"

Greed took hold of his face with one hand so his palm rested on his throat, tangling his hand in his hair with the other, "No. Edward. You will stay away from them. You are mine."

Ed felt his cheeks heat but he didn't pull away knowing Greed's immense strength. "But if they are hurting people—"

"No," Greed growled, his skin morphing to a black substance, his fingers growing claws. "Stay away from them. If you get too close, they will kill you—"

"I don't—"

"Care?" Greed sneered, digging his nails in a bit harder and Martel shrank away from them. "What about your little sisters? Your father? Your adoptive mother? Do you care about them? You've done human transmutation. My siblings may keep you alive to enslave you, play with you until you can't be used any longer, but they will take everything you love and destroy it. Is that what you want? Is it, Fullmetal?"

Ed swallowed past the panic and said, "I'm investigating Lab 5, will they come after me for that?"

Greed's eyes narrowed, "They might. But since we broke up some years ago, that Lab is not so active. But if you ever worry, if you ever see tattoos like mine, you come to me and leave them the fuck alone."

His answer let on more than he intended, his siblings were in Central too.

It was Ed's turn to glare, "Avoiding them would be easier if you just told me who they were."

"Envy is literally a shapeshifter, so no, that won't help you."

Ed tried to think up an argument but Greed sighed, realising his hold, "How did you even guess I was Homunculus anyway?"

"I have been researching chimaeras and when I went back home to Resembool, I found my birth father's journals."

"Your birth father researches homunculi?" Greed asked. "That's both a very specific area of study and very convenient."

"Do you want to be human?"

Greed scoffed, "Why would I want that when I have eternal youth and endless power?"

"Doesn't it get lonely? I mean, you'll outlive all of us," Ed said, motioning to the crew that he knew Greed thought of as his family whether he used that word or not.

But the idiot shook his head, "No, Elric-Hughes, being human is not what I want."

Liar.

Ed didn't say it out loud though.

"Who is your birth father anyway?" Greed asked before Ed could retort. "Maybe I know him."

He grimaced as he answered, "Van Hohenheim."

Greed stared at him wide eyed, "Hohenheim?"

Ed raised a brow, "Wait, you do know him?"

Greed cocked his head, eyes trailing over his features, "That does explain the colouring. Golden hair, eyes, and skin. Who knew the old man had it in him?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ed snapped.

"Xerxians, they were, or I suppose are, the People of Gold. Haven't you ever wondered why no one you've ever met looks like you?"

"I have a brother," Ed said. "But what does ancient people have to do with anything? I mean, Hohenheim has books on them, but they were people of legends. An entire country can't just disappear in a day."

"Oh, it was very real, I have memories of it. My father was the one to destroy Xerxes, and yours was the only man to survive it. Congratulations on surviving a near complete racial genocide by the by."

"Key word thing there," Ed challenged. "Four hundred years ago."

Greed's amusement only grew, "Van Hohenheim is four hundred years old."

Ed blinked, "Fuck off."

Greed grinned, "Don't worry, he's human, mostly. He was a slave boy who fell for my father's tricks, in exchange for a bit of blood and being freed from his prison, my father granted yours an immortal life."

Ed paled, "Are they enemies?"

Is Al in danger?

"They aren't friends," Greed said. "I'd imagine annihilating one's entire people down to the last woman and child would sort of negate any amiable relationship they had. All I know of Van Hohenheim is that he is known as one of the most powerful Alchemists to ever walk the Earth, Hohenheim of Light, and that he is nomadic. And, apparently, he started a family of his own in the more traditional sense."

Ed looked down at his hands, "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Nothing," Greed said immediately. "Keep your nose clean."

Marcoh's stone burned in Ed's pocket.

Homunculi were made the same way the stones were; from human lives.

From their deaths.

Greed bent down to press their foreheads together, "Be good, my little Alchemist."

Ed bared his own teeth, "Who the fuck are you calling little?"

What's worse than a serial killer?

Two serial killers.

One that was killing women into piles of deformed flesh and another who was blowing the brains out of State Alchemists.

Fucking Tuesdays.

"Colonel?"

Roy turned with Maes to see Edward standing in the street looking into the ally.

Roy waved him over, "Come on, Fullmetal."

Maes looked unhappy but at least this was one of the women, not one of the State Alchemists. Though, they were going to have to have that conversation.

Riza had already taken his spare room.

Breda and Havoc were going to be on guard at the Hughes.

"What happened?" Edward asked as he approached.

Fury sighed, "Another murder."

"Another?" Edward question.

"I told you reading the papers is a good idea," Maes said, the false cheer in his voice falling flat.

Edward rolled his eyes, "I thought you would tell me if there was something important."

Maes sighed, "I was hoping this one wouldn't fall to our team."

"What—" Edward began but his voice caught and broke.

Roy looked at Ed and froze, his eyes were wide and he was trembling.

He had seen that look on people he was going to execute, Roy would know.

"Cover that thing!" someone called.

"ED!" Maes yelled, lunging forward as his son's eyes rolled back and his body went limp. He fell right into Maes arms.

Roy looked at what had terrified the child enough to faint.

To be fair, Roy had seen and made a lot of dead bodies, but this body was an extreme even by his standards.

"Get him out of here," Roy said as Maes rose to his feet with Edward in his arms. But it was Maes's expression that stopped him.

"Maes?"

His friend didn't look worried or afraid for his son as he held him close, he looked heartbroken.

AN: I'm really determined to finish this one as a self challenge to prove to myself I can finish a story without jumping projects. That being said, I do live for feedback, so if you have any thoughts or suggestions other than keep going, I would be incredibly thankful :D