Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
The chime of the clock broke Thomas from his reading. He glanced up to the face of the grandfather before rubbing his tired eyes.
"That late already?" He said to himself, getting to his feet. The kitten, which had been safely tucked into his coat pocket, now poked its head out and yawned greatly. A black-gloved hand came down on the yellow tabby's head, stroking behind its ears. It purred.
Picking up the alchemy book he had just been reading, Thomas headed for the library exit. He neared the door and reached for the handle, when it flew open and smacked him in the nose. He cursed. A woman clad in navy blue garb peered around the door. She handed the man her handkerchief.
"Terribly sorry." She said as he wiped the blood from his nose. He recognized her as Colonel Riza Hawkeye from Central Headquarters.
"Colonel Hawkeye, what are you doing here?" He asked.
"Look around, Henker. What does it look like I'm doing? Buying t-shirts?" She let out an irritated sigh. "The Lt. General needs to see you."
"About what?" Thomas tried to meet her eyes.
"He just wants to ask you a few off-the-record questions." She took hold of his arm and pushed him out the door. "Now, get going before I get angry."
000
Thomas arrived at Central Headquarters five minutes later. He had run, not wanting to see Hawkeye's angry side. It was said when she was in a good mood, she'd still take a few rounds out on you, if you sneezed without covering your mouth.
Thomas sighed, reaching the office of Lt. General Mustang. He knocked, waiting for the muffled reply.
"Come in." Mustang's voice said against the door. Thomas stepped in, closing the door behind himself with a click. Mustang merely looked up and gestured to the seat across from him. He finished with his paperwork and propped his head on folded hands, his elbows resting on his desk.
"So, tell me, Mr. Henker," He began casually. "How did you come across getting that automail of yours? I'm sure it wasn't some household accident."
The man sighed. "I don't really remember, sir. It was so long ago."
The Lt. General leaned back in his chair. "Let's start with something simple, then, shall we? Where were you born?"
"Resembool, I believe." Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. "It was a small house, off near the automail mechanics, the Rockbells. I can't remember much other than that." He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "It burned down, I think. I'm not sure how."
"Really? Hmm, interesting..." Mustang cleared his throat. "Did you have any family? Brothers? Sisters?"
"I had a brother, but the sad thing is, I can't remember his name, how old he is now, or what he looks like." Thomas answered. "I've seemed to have forgotten my whole past. Bit by bit, it's coming back slowly."
"What a shame." Mustang murmured. "Do you remember you father?"
"No." The younger alchemist shook his head. "He left when I was very young."
"How about your mother?"
A sickening feeling hit the man.
"My mother?"
"Yes, your mother. Is there anything about her that you remember?" Thomas hadn't heard his words. His mind was racing with forgotten—no, lost memories.
Blinding light, screams, his leg torn from him, his younger brother, the nauseating sight of his mother's transmuted body—
Thomas doubled over, gagging. His stomach emptied itself, and he passed out, falling to the floor. Mustang jumped from his chair, calling for some assistance. The last thing Thomas heard was the sound of the Lt. General's voice.
"Get him to the medical wing!"
000
Thomas stirred, inhaling sharply. A hand grasped his shoulder. Blinking his eyes open, Thomas came face to face with an unfamiliar face. His was a burly man, his shoulders much broader than any Thomas had ever seen. The man smiled behind his bushy blond mustache, his blue eyes glittering with tears.
"You're awake!" He grasped the man in a bear hug. Thomas gasped for air. The man noticed this, releasing him.
"Sorry." He apologized. "I'm Brigadier General Alex Louis Armstrong, the Strong-Arm Alchemist."
"Thomas Henker, ordinary alchemist." He shook the man's hand. "I was to take the Alchemy Exam, but I seemed to have fallen ill at the most impeccable time."
"Don't worry, Mr. Henker," Lt. General Mustang entered the room. "You haven't missed it. If you're well enough, you have a half-hour to prepare yourself."
"I am, sir! Thank you!" Thomas flung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, collapsing as he did so. The Brigadier General caught him before his face met the wood. Thomas leaned himself against the bed, taking in a few deep breathes.
"It seems not. Brigadier General, will you please leave us for a moment." Armstrong nodded before exiting. Mustang locked the door behind the man, turning back to Thomas. "You have a very interesting past, Mr. Henker."
"What do you mean? I hardly told you about my past." The alchemist state slowly.
"Yes, well, I pieced together information and figured out a few other things." He paced over to the window. "Have you ever heard of an alchemist named Edward Elrich?"
"No, sir. Not that I can recall."
"I see." Mustang nodded slightly. "Did you know he was the youngest alchemist to join the military? Oh, yes, he was special." He sighed. "Now, what gets me is he had a younger brother as well—"
"It's natural to have younger or older siblings."—
"Yes, but his father left him when he was just a boy. Now, that's not that uncommon either, but, his house had burned down as well. He and his brother had done that, trying to forget the details of their past. You see, his mother had died..."—How will we live without mom? – We won't— "and the brothers had tried to transmute her..."—We're going to bring her back—"I had asked you about your mother, Thomas." The Lt. General faced him.
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Sorry for the short update, but I said that's how it would be.
Okay, in this chapter, you see Thomas is slowly starting to remember more. The more Mustang presses on about his past, he gets flashbacks, and not the good ones.
I'll try to update a little faster, but I can't guarantee anything. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!