Title: Eagle's Eye View
Characters: Alphonse, Edward, Roy
Summary: Don't forget. Third of October, 1910.
Disclaimer: If I owned FullMetal Alchemist, I wouldn't be poor and this wouldn't be fanfic.
Rating: K
Warnings: Spoilers for the Elrics' pasts.

All across the land the world was cast in shadow, creating a grey expanse of hills and fields, barns and houses. Color was faded as the setting sun drowned in a sea of looming rain clouds, ominously drifting over the sky and leaving a land desolate of life behind. All the sane animals had taken refuge from the rumble in the distance and the eerie electric pulse in the air, foreboding the oncoming storm.

There were still two figures, however, dashing away from the train station with suitcases and large paper bags they clung to as if they held the most precious of diamonds. The boys, of course, were far too young to have the money to purchase any sort of fine gem; nevertheless, the bags were clutched to their chests, light brown -- almost golden -- eyes looked up to the sky. The darker's spoke of wariness, willing the clouds to… Well, actually, they seemed to be a little confused themselves; they were willing the clouds to please wait until they and their precious cargo were safely inside. But at the same time they were almost hoping the clouds wouldn't.

The lighter eyes, on the other hand, were quite clear in their instruction: if even a droplet of rain came in contact with the parcels, severe retribution would come swiftly. The idea was a foolish one, but anyone gazing into those fierce eyes would believe the boy was capable of it. It was probably this that held it off until the boys slipped inside one of the handful of houses that dotted the darkening landscape.

As soon as the door closed, a loud CRACK echoed from the sky followed by a rumbling that sounded as if the very mountains were falling to the earth.; the world lit up for just a moment as an electric charge skittered across the heavens; and, finally, all at once, the land was drenched.

The combination of the ground shaking thunder and the pellets of rain beating down on the earth was almost deafening. Faces peeked out of windows from behind curtains, peering out at the storm overhead and ducking quickly back in when the fingers of lightning flared like the flashbulb of an enormous camera.

Hours passed in the exact same way -- lightning blazing brightly, thunder growling loudly enough to shake the ground, and rain spattering harshly against the ground -- no one daring to brave the outdoors now the storm had begun. Save one man.

He was a dark form among a slightly less dark landscape; black eyes and black hair hidden by a long black trench coat and cap, a weak attempt to block out the wetness beating down on him. He seemed to pay it no mind, however, hands stuffed deep in his pockets and walking with a clear purpose in his long strides. The man perked up at the sound of crackling in the distance and, when he looked up, he saw the telltale sparks of energy from an Alchemic transmutation.

The reaction seemed to surround a large house (the one the two boys had entered earlier, though the man certainly had no way of knowing that) like the lightning reaching across the sky only tinted blue… No…it had been tinted blue, but the color shifted suddenly, swathing the nearby land in a deep forewarning red as the Alchemic power reached beyond the central reaction for the missing ingredients to complete its intended purpose, whatever that was.

The man was too far to reach the house in time and, soon, the light faded, the power charging the air retreating back to its source. There was another rumble of thunder but the sound of a scream could be heard just beneath it and anyone could tell that something was wrong.

There was another strong surge of Alchemic power, though this time the reaction didn't rebound and, finally the dark man reached the top of a hill overlooking the house, just in time to see a large hulking figure rush out of it. It moved faster than it appeared it should, considering its size, and it also appeared to be carrying something…

Or someone…

The dark man slipped an already wet slip of paper from his pocket, checking the writing against what he was looking at, and gazed grimly at the house before him and the direction the large figure had run off in.

The rain didn't let up until morning but, by that time, the man in the trench coat was long gone but, out on the lawn of a nearby house were three figures, two (a suit of armor towering over both others and a young girl) standing and one appearing ready to spring out of the wheelchair he sat in. The crippled one appeared to be contemplating the drops of water as they feel from the branch of a tree near the road and, when he spoke, both of his companions started.

"We're going to get them back," he paused, lifting his remaining hand to the place where his right arm had been the night before, "You and Granny are gonna build me automail, and then we're goin' to Central City, and we're getting them back."

A mumbled response came from the armor, but no one seemed to hear it, and the girl didn't seem to want to get involved. Those golden eyes held that same determination of the night before only, this time, there was far more confidence laced in.

The clouds parted, at last, letting in bright rays of sunshine to start drying away the near-flood of the storm.

The small blonde in the wheelchair led the other two back inside, away from it.

-End