Author's Notes:

This story contains spoilers for the Full Metal Alchemist anime series, and is ultimately very AU.

I haven't had this betaed, and I'm horrible with grammar.

The Long Road Home

There was a loud crack of metal hitting bone, more precisely the jaw of one very small little alchemist. He spat simply in reflex, the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. The tip of his tongue briefly noted the loose molar on his left side. Another hit like that, and it would surely become loose. A sharp pain lingered, a bruise immediately forming after the handle of the pistol had made contact. Edward kept his knocked face towards the ground, a dangle of saliva still coming from his lips.

This abuse had gone on for hours.

By now the pain he had endured was nothing compared to how she felt. How he felt for her. What she was going through. She was only inches away, but he couldn't touch her. Literally, due to the removal of his automail, and he struggled even more within his bindings to do so. She had gone silent long ago, and trying to speak to her would gain another pistol whip to some part of his face. He inhaled deeply, holding back angry tears that threatened to come. Being a dog of the military never mentioned this in the criteria. He was willing to take on the duties but he was not ready for his friends and his family to do so as well.

War had spilled out from the cities.

Even the countryside was no longer safe. State Alchemists were now considered an enemy of the state. Roy Mustang's assassination of the Fuhrer had led to a uprising, and capture of all those in league with the Colonel, including the Elric brothers. Little did the military know the Fuhrer's homunculus heritage, in which the Flame Alchemist had done the country a favor. Upon Ed and Al's return to Rezembol, the Rockbell Automail Shop was compromised, and became a headquarters for the state. He and Alphonse were apprehended not two feet after he had stepped through the front door, and Aunt Pinako and Winry weren't even at their childhood home when they had arrived.

After that, it was a blur till this point. He and Al were separated. All he could remember was the screaming and the anger. It had taken a few military guards to hold him back from going after Alphonse, when they began making arrangements to have them removed from one another. Together they were dangerous, apart they could handle them.

"Don't let them take you, Al! Fight back! You can't give in to them you're not -- !"

"Brother, stop!" Al's voice had raised, in one of the few times they had been together. Usually to halt him from doing something stupid or hurting himself, this time it seemed different. But the underlying care for him was still there, as always. "I have to do this. We have to, it will be okay.."

"Al! Don't! Beat them up, get away! You don't have to go with them!" But the armored younger brother didn't make a motion to do anything. He turned his head and walked quietly with the other blue-clad militants, slipping almost too easily into the truck that was going to take him away. His brother, his family.

"AL!" He remembered screaming over and over. Ed was tearing through guards at this point, desperately trying to get to Alphonse. There was a loud slamming and locking of the back of the automobile, followed immediately by it's startup. But still, he shrieked his name. "No, Al! Don't let them take you! Al, I need you!"

There was a sharp tug on the back of shirt collar. Angrily, Ed pulled harder, feeling himself being choked by his own doing. But he had to catch that truck, he had to be with Al. And the moment he felt slack in the grasp on his shirt did he begin to run. But that take off had been short lived, when a sharp painful blow was to the back of his head.

It had gone black after that.

Stupid Al, he had simply accepted their fate and went calmly. And he was still bitter, his clubbing to his head had stayed with him since that day. No doubt that they had discovered their mistake in alchemy, their human transmutation, that nothing was inside Alphonse's armor. And the Philosopher's Stone that he hid in his chest cavity, what would become of that? He feared for him the most. And when he held his tongue and went with the military, his thoughts then went to Winry. Where was she?

It had only been a few days, in a cell without windows or light, complete solitude, without his automail or anything at all, that Ed had worried. He had screamed himself hoarse, he felt like he was going to shrivel and die without the food they were keeping from him. And when finally, without his alchemy for days and feeling without hope, they came in to pull him forth from his confinement. And at this point the knew there was futile trying to get away, without his automail he was useless. He didn't even remember struggling to when they sat him down in another room, with a single light bulb, and even that dim light had hurt his eyes when it was turned on.

But his semi-broken spirit didn't mean he would so easily give in. He knew why he was here. Mustang had simply gone missing. They believed he was still alive after he had killed the Fuhrer, and that Ed knew where he was. Of course he didn't. Colonel trusted him, but not enough to share that information with him. Roy had informed him that he, along with Riza and Havoc were safe and they would be in contact soon. But that bit of knowledge was Edward's vice. Mustang was an enemy of the state and that simply meant Edward was too. The military personnel had no problem treating him like one was easy when he was so easily disabled without his transmutation circles.

It was only a few hours in, believing they could beat the information out of him, when they pulled out the stops. He had screamed he would never talk, that he would never give up the Colonel like that, that they were all going down -- an endless strain of threats that kept coming until the door behind him had creaked open and shuffling of feet was heard again the floor. More enforcements, he had told himself. He would handle anything they threw at him, he was tough, he had been through enough all those years that nothing now could phase him. But nothing prepared him when a small blonde girl was sat down next to him, looking dirty, rattled and unnecessarily bruised.

Edward had yelled her name in relief, for she was a sight for sore eyes. But his sudden outburst had started the beatings with the firearm.

And this was where they were now. He kept screaming that she didn't know anything, but the more he spoke, the more he was hit. The more she was hit. The more his temper raged inside. Edward spat on his abuser, which resulted in his latest bruise, and realizing he wouldn't speak another word, they left he and Winry to themselves.

Silence past before he spoke a word to her, his voice cracking and fearful. "Winry?"

Seconds, then minutes went by and she said nothing. He shifted his weight in his chair, aching from head to toe. His stomach growled with hunger, and his mouth felt dry. His finally craned his neck to turn and look at her. A hefty black circle was forming over her right eye, a trickle of old blood was coming from the corner of her mouth. Her golden hair was tattered, knotted, but in her limp form he still thought she was beautiful. His own mouth quivered and his face felt moist. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

"Winry, please.. Say something. Anything. Talk to me.."

And when she said nothing for the second time, he pulled his gaze away and choked out a sob. He had hurt those who he loved, without realizing it. He remembered telling Alphonse that he would take on what the military called for. That both of them didn't need to be a dog for the state. But those words meant little now. He couldn't apologize this time, and for the first time -- he knew -- he hated himself. More than ever. He couldn't protect Al. He couldn't protect Winry. All in all he had down-right failed, and that conclusion made him want to vomit, and he held back that vile taste that was coming up his throat.

Then there was a soft moan and a stir from the other chair. It knocked Edward out of his thoughts, and his sniffed hard to hide his apparent crying. Winry's head tossed from one side to the other, her eyes slowly trying to peek open. She squinted at him, her bruised eye almost swollen shut. In quick movements, gathering whatever strength he had left, he dragged the chair he was strapped in close to her in a few short scrapes and hops against the cement floor. Almost out of breath, he too let his head go limp, and their foreheads touched. It wasn't the time of day to smile, but he couldn't help it, when she spoke his name.

"Ed?" Winry had asked cautiously making sure it was actually him. Her voice had sounded almost muffled and odd, but upon recognition, she too cracked a smile. Winry then began to motion with her head for Ed to move his hand toward her.

"I can't, it's tired down Winry, can't you see.." Ed rationalized. She just gave him a stern look in response, and Ed, though wondering what she had in mind, wiggled his limb around to trying to get it free. From Winry's side, it looked as if she were juggling something around in her mouth, only momentarily later, she pushed forward within her mouth a tiny screw she had been concealing underneath her tongue.

At this point, Edward had begun trying to maneuver his hand into range so that she could drop it in his palm. It all fit together, he just was too impatient to wait. There was shuffling and a few attempts when they heard the door begin to open that they paused, but with meticulous effort, he was in range. Winry leaned over as far as possible, and slowly let the metal bearing fall from her lips.

"I'm sorry.." She replied afterwards, more clear than before, when the screw, doused in spit and a bit of pink -- he could only guess it was blood, fell into his hand. Her knocking around by the military had let the short end of the screw scratch her mouth. One could have only been so lucky that it didn't pierce her mouth. Ed immediately shushed her. She had no reason to apologize. She had done something right, Ed however felt he had been less than lack-luster in the situation.

"It's fine, it's fine.." He soothed, carving a small circle into the back of one of the posts of the chair, similar to what he did when they were younger and Winry visited Central. He had promised her when she boarded the train home after that event that nothing like that would happen again. She had nodded, but she knew that Ed was not some superhero. He couldn't save everyone, he couldn't be omnipotent.

A flash of light, and the ropes around his wrist loosened. Drawing together every last cell of energy he could muster, he heaved himself out of the chair, and with his one awkward hand he began to untie Winry's bindings. She heaved a heavy sigh when the tightness on her wrist dissipated. The fact that they didn't use handcuffs made the military seem pompous and underestimating, but it of course worked beneficially in pair's favor. Of course, when the blonde turned to inspect Ed, the first realization by her was the enormous chunk of him missing.

"Where's you're automail? Did they take it?"

"Yes, but Winry --"

"But what?" She snapped, cutting him off, and Ed took a step back. He didn't think she would still have this energy afterward, she could preserve it well, obviously. She was already brushing herself off, and heading towards the exit, pressing her ear against the door, listening for footsteps from outside. "If we wait, we could slip out of here, find you're automail. I think I saw a place they might be keeping in when I was brought down here. That way you can use --"

"Winry, just stop!" Ed breathed heavily. This all sounded so out of place, it wasn't that easy. Ed didn't even know where exactly here was and now they were going to plan some get away route while making a stop off to pick up his automail. He didn't want to be caught after everything they accomplished now.

But that wasn't the real reason he stopped Winry's strain of ideas on how to escape. Ed was now pointing to the upper corner of the room. Of course he didn't see it when he came in, the much taller guards were holding him and standing in his way, so it was impossible to catch eye of the security camera which had been watching them the whole time. He was surprised no one was here already apprehending him again.

"Ed, that's a.." Winry was stating the rather extreme obvious when there was a slight rumble below them that had interrupted her. They both looked down, Ed as puzzled as her, before there was a large explosion from the side wall, furthest from them. Winry clung to Ed, as smoke, plaster and cement fell around them, covering the two in a powdery layer of debris. If on cue, the alarm sirens started blaring from outside as well as in. Coughing and wheezing, Winry began to fan the dust from their faces. What in the world was going on?

Prior to their view clearing, a silhouette appeared in the smoke before them. Ed strained to see who it was, the figure seeming so recognizable. Unfortunately, Edward had no time to deliberate the familiarity of his and Winry's savior, for the man had disappeared faster than he had appeared, yelling back a singular word of advice to them.

Run.