The Two Sides of Maes Hughes

- (AU but full of spoilers for the anime and manga. Also very much a WIP. Consider yourself warned). Loss is the curse of an alchemist, driving them to rash decisions and dangerous experiments, especially when the temptation is laid out to them by someone else. But what are the consequences? (Now with a hundred percent more flashbacks and alchemical theory!)

Author's Notes:

One: FullMetal Alchemist is not mine. Roy Mustang and Maes Hughes are also not mine. The other characters from the anime are not mine. The plot... ok, at least that's mine, as twisted as it is. Oh, and this leaves off awkwardly, partly because I'm evil like that, and partly because I wanted to get it up on Oct. 3rd. (-:

Two: This is your final warning. This fic takes place right after episode 25, and contains (mostly minor) spoilers for a lot of episodes since then. The manga is my friend, especially its timeline, so don't be surprised if the story follows that more faithfully than the show.

Three: So, after a bit of deliberating I've decided that my original screwed-up plot twist was too screwed up for me to take the story entirely seriously. So, I sat down and pretty much doubled the entire thing without getting any further on the plot. (My logic works that way). I honestly wasn't expecting any reviews for this... so thank you! It rather inspired me to try to make this suck less. (-: And as before, all reviews are welcome and encouraged and I'll love you, unless you flame me, in which case I'll ignore you but be vaguely amused anyway. Nya!

-- ---- --

Roy Mustang sat alone in his office, staring out into the cloudless sky. It had been two days since the funeral of his best friend, and still the skies refused to rain. The military continued its business outside his door, accustomed to loss. The world continued to turn, mocking him, allowing him to believe he was alone. Roy had thought that throwing himself into his work would help him cope, but his mind continued to wander back to his studies before the Ishbar conflict. There was not an alchemist alive that had not researched the forbidden art of human transmutation or followed the powerful glow of the philosopher's stone. Curiosity and loss together were the curse of the alchemists, dangling the promise of the return of their loved ones just out of their reach, driving them to break the taboo.

The last time he had felt this desperate he had just returned from the war. Everyone was haunted by the war though. Among the officers, the haunting memories also gave them a sense of pride. They had experience. They based their authority on that experience, because they had been there, had seen things that most hoped those under them would never have to see. Among many of the State Alchemists who had been stationed in Ishbar, there was a sort of understanding. They all knew that in some way, no matter how forbidden it was, they had the power to undo the things they had done. At the end of the war, when the orders stopped and the discharges handed out, the red stones were also revoked, putting an end to the hopes that the extra power might make their wild plans possible. Nevertheless, a small group of alchemists had tried. Few still remembered, for the evidence had been disposed of long ago. They had been close, in the same unit throughout the war, and had no doubt been planning for quite some time. A few days after their discharges, they had returned to Ishbar to atone for their deeds. Three disappeared entirely. The other two were found with the remains of several unrecognizable bodies. Their autopsies showed that they were missing vital internal organs, though no outward wounds were visible. The entire incident had been written off as a small-scale retaliation by militants then buried deep in the piles of military records. The original documents were still kept in the basement, though only Roy now knew of them. The records floor was full of tiny secrets, squirreled away by the intelligence officers. Maes had been the one ordered to destroy the papers, but Roy had talked him into hiding them, instead - a small tribute to the ones who were brave enough to make the sacrifice, to at least try to make things better. The trade, as Maes insisted, was that he promised not to try the same thing himself. He hoped someday someone would come across the papers and remember, and respect them for what they had done. He sometimes wished that he could have joined them.

Even with Maes Hughes' faithful support, readjusting to life after the war had been hard on Mustang. Rather than simply cleaning the dust out of his apartment and returning to more common work, he had found himself re-reading the alchemy books that lined the walls of his study. It had been especially hard after Tim Marcoh had come to visit. Roy had been amazed to see him appear at his door, thinking that he had long ago sought refuge far from Central. He had always been one to hide things where they would be most obvious, and most hidden, though. It was one of his talents that never ceased to amaze Roy. With a small apologetic smile, he had let himself into the apartment and proceeded to thank Mustang for letting him escape that day in the only way an alchemist knew how.

"My life is certainly worth my life's work. The best way I can thank you is to pass on what I know to you. I can't expect you to remember it all, or even understand it. But it's the least I can do. You mustn't take notes or anything, there are enough of those already... just listen."

He went on, outlining what seemed to be everything he knew about alchemy, filling in the areas he knew Roy had never studied. Alchemical healing... using alchemy as a power source... the philosopher's stone, its limits, and its effects. Though Roy didn't note it at the time, he had carefully skirted around the issue of its ingredients.

When Marcoh had finished, Roy had only one question.

"And... now that you're out of the military, I can ask you this frankly: what about body alchemy? Did your research ever fall into that?"

Marcoh looked wary, and answered with a sigh.

"Only the higher-ups knew, but yes, my research was often pushed into the realm of body alchemy. There was... probably still is... an entire lab devoted to the study. Chimeras were never my thing, but they were interested in the power of the red stone, and asked me to research what effect it would have on their work. For the most part, the reactions were almost entirely impossible to control using the stone. We had a bit more success by having the stone in the alchemists themselves, usually given to them as a pill, but more often than not there were bad side-efeects to that as well. In the end, I had to substitute a placebo for the stone just so they would stop destroying themselves in their experiments. It was the most horrible thing I've ever had to watch... Brilliant men, throwing themselves into their work, playing God and not caring, only to destroy themselves in the end, sometimes making themselves into the very things they were studying. Rebound has always been a problem. If you do not pay the proper price, it comes back for you. Oh, and the souls..." Roy had obviously hit a nerve with his question. The doctor had not wanted to discuss it outright, but seeing Roy's interest he had let the floodgates open.

"The most important part of alchemy is understanding what it is you're working with. It's why body alchemy is so difficult. It is relatively easy to understand the different elements and how they interact with each other, but within a body, the interactions are far too complex. For each thing you change, there are a thousand other things that are also affected, and it's impossible to tell what they will be. Even if an alchemist understands the body well enough to perform alchemy on animals, he can never do it on humans. The soul comes into play, and its existence is far too complex for any man to understand. Binding a soul is nearly impossible. There is always the risk of rejection, and the alchemist must understand the soul itself on a very intimate level to be able to manipulate it. On top of that, the soul must also understand the alchemist. It is completely impossible to bind a soul that is unwilling. As for the price one must pay... it's also impossible to tell. Very, very few people try this type of alchemy and survive, and almost none of them will talk about the experience afterwards. You saw the pictures of the men in Ishbar. No, you don't nee to pretend you didn't. They all had to sacrifice something. They might have survived if someone had been there for them, but even then I know the military would have just... well, it's probably best that it happened the way it did. But you see the price they had to pay. It's no trifling matter."

Roy had nodded in a very military fashion at his remark, and Marcoh gave him a concerned look. "I was afraid of this. You kids had to see too much." He sighed again, giving Roy a very pointed look. "It's tough, I know. But as long as you have someone close by your side, helping you out, it'll be fine. Listen, you're a good man, and orders are orders. You followed them because you're a good man. I don't want to have to worry about you. So please be careful, and don't make me feel guilty about this." He gazed down at the table briefly. "The military is really going to need someone like you in the future."

He got up and left. Roy watched him walk to the door. On the table sat three red pills.

--

Roy snapped himself out of his reverie. It was unbecoming of an officer to stare out the window for so long. He had forgotten about Marcoh's little gift, and it surprised him that the thought had now crossed his mind. He knew, however, that as a part of the military, as a State Alchemist whose goal was to push his way to the top of the ranks, he could not risk reviving his friend. Even for the hero of Ishbar, a crime is a crime. He stood, paced the room a few times, scattered some papers across his desk to give the illusion that he had been working, and turned off the lights to leave. With one last look around his office, he turned towards the door... tried it... found it locked.

"What the... my door doesn't lock from the outside..." Mustang stared at the doorknob. "Alchemy..." He swore under his breath, and turned to see a man staring back from the darkest corner of the room.

"I'd advise you not to turn on the lights..." warned the man in an uninterested monotone when he saw Mustang go for the switch. "No fires, either." The man's habit of inserting dramatic pauses so automatically in his speech immediately grated on the Colonel's nerves, and he tried his best to push himself back into his usual military mindset.

"Who do you think you are? You do not have the authorization to enter my office at this hour, especially without talking to my secretary first."

"Don't try to act tough now, Colonel," he said in an almost soothing tone. "Don't think I didn't see you crying earlier. I know how you feel. Thus, I have a proposition for you... I know you've considered it already." The man noted Mustang's quick intake of breath and began to smirk a little.

"I'm only here to give you a little.... encouragement. What if I told you no one would ever find out about your... transgression? It's risk-free, Colonel. Heh... I know Marcoh would never tell you anything like that. Bt it's true. I'll set up the place, and tell you the time. All I need from you is your word. Finish training yourself in human alchemy... I'll seek you out again later."

"But... wait. What interest could you possibly have in bringing him back?"

"It's a close family matter." His emphasis on family was odd, Roy noticed, like it had a second meaning. "I will not explain it any more than that. Suffice it to say I will not betray you to the military. I am not in a position to ask for your trust, though. So I must rely on your own will to do this. For yourself, for Mr. Hughes, and most importantly for his... family."

With that, the figure seemed to disappear. There was a faint glow as the change in the door was undone, and Mustang was free. He shook his head to clear it, took a few breaths to settle his emotions, and walked out the door.

I should have burnt him to a crisp... Why didn't I?

--

Later that night, the dark man arrived at his home. Inside, a group of young-looking people dressed in various styles of black attire were waiting for him. The looks in their eyes though, betrayed something that did not quite feel human. Though greeted only by their stares, he was not phased. He simply nodded a greeting, hung up his coat, and took a seat on his couch.

"Is it done?" asked the one youngest in appearance. He had a cruel, mocking smile that seemed to be permanent.

"The seed has been planted. We can only wait."

"You've said that before..."

The only guest in normal clothes – a green dress – stood to address the man. "But, do you really think he can..."

"No. No, of course not." Without his heavy black coat, the man looked much less than menacing, almost jovial. He continued with a laugh. "He is much less powerful than FullMetal, and even he couldn't... No, he will give us exactly what we need. I'm sure you know our current Greed is getting a bit... spoiled. Shall we say, his... expiration date is rather... soon. And we will need a replacement very soon. You all know that the time is coming."

A pair of ravenous red eyes glowed from the corner. "Can I...?"

"No, you may not. He'll meet a more fitting end."