When Cornered

Disclaimer: Characters and setting are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I'm just borrowing them for a bit of non-profit angst.

Ed regained consciousness shortly before the soldiers reached the town square and started struggling but without the use of his arms there wasn't much he could do. The soldiers who'd been put in charge of Ed flung him into the center of square. Unable to catch himself, Ed stumbled and fell. He ended up sprawled face down in the dirt. The Lt. Colonel put a heavy foot on Ed's back to prevent him from rising. One of his men handed him a megaphone.

"Mustang! We have your co-conspirator!" The Lt. Colonel boomed. "If you fail to surrender yourself in ten minutes I will summarily execute him for the attempted assassination of Fuhrer Bradley… And don't get any cute ideas about rescuing him." The Lt. Colonel pulled the pin out of a grenade and held it up for all to see; any attack on the Lt. Colonel would result in Edward's death. The crowd rapidly began dispersing.

"I'm here; put that fucking thing up before it slips," Roy declared as he worked his way through the retreating crowd. His hair and clothes were disheveled from pushing through the crowd but his expression was cool and composed.

"Your gloves," the Lt. Colonel ordered.

Disdainfully Roy tossed the pristine white gloves on the ground between them.

"Search him for any other Alchemic paraphernalia," the Lt. Colonel ordered.

When the soldiers advanced on Mustang Edward began cursing furiously and struggling to free himself.

"Edward! Enough!" Roy ordered sharply.

Ed's golden eyes reflected guilt and remorse as he stilled.

Roy's face was impassive as the soldiers stripped him to guard against the possibility of arrays being sewn into his clothing. Once he was dressed again in prison garb with his hands bound in front of him where they could be seen Roy smirked at his capture. "All this fuss just for me?"

"What did you expect? The military has no higher priority than presenting the Fuhrer with your treasonous head."

"I'm honored." Roy replied.

A troop transport arrived a short while later. Ed and Roy were loaded in the back with several guards; Roy's gloves and Ed's automail were tossed in the corner furthest from the prisoners.

As the truck rumbled out of the town Roy's proud posture vanished. He slumped, cradling his head in his bound hands. One of the guards laughed triumphantly at his defeat.

"I'm sorry," Ed whispered, his voice caught in his throat. Then he felt it; the air around Roy was alive with alchemic energy. Several minutes passed with no obvious changes, much to Ed's confusion.

Without warning one of the guards toppled over. His compatriots slumped together, their eyes were glazed.

"What the?" Ed exclaimed.

"Stay put," Roy said. "Most of the air in here is bad." He took several deep breaths then stood up and hurried across the truck to retrieve his and Ed's possessions.

"Turn around," Roy said then unfastened the straight jacket. "The men up front are still conscious; try not to scream," he said as he awkwardly tried to line up Ed's automail with its port while steadying the younger Alchemist with his hands bound.

Ed nodded then bit his lip and closed his eyes. Ed's body jerked involuntarily and blood welled up around his teeth as Roy reattached his arm. After it was over Ed slumped against Roy for a moment. Ed kept his face averted while he blinked back tears.

Roy sighed regretfully and tried to rub Ed's back.

"I'm okay," Ed insisted quietly. He clapped his hands then touched the binders on Roy's wrists and they disintegrated.

The pair waited until the truck carrying them began to turn a corner then leapt out the back. They watched the truck drive on without them.

"How'd you do that?" Ed asked.

Roy grinned. "How do I typically use alchemy?" he asked.

"Create a spark; manipulate the oxygen content in the air…" Ed trailed off. "You said the air was bad. Hell! You manipulated the oxygen content around them to make them pass out."

"Almost," Roy replied. "We were in a truck; carbon dioxide poisoning is a more efficient means of killing than oxygen depravation."

"But they took all your stuff; where was your array?" Ed demanded.

Roy grimaced in distaste. "About six months after the Ishbalan War ended I got drunk, fell down a flight of stairs and cracked my skull open. The doctors shaved my hair off so they could put in stitches. I knew another alchemist during the war; a real psychotic bastard; he had his arrays tattooed on. As much as I don't want to be anything like that homicidal lunatic; it was a good idea. I had Hughes do it. You're the third person who knows about what we did and that's counting myself and Maes."

"Why all the secrecy? Why don't you ever use your alchemy that way?" Ed asked.

"Think Ed," Roy exclaimed. "What is it good for? Explosions are loud and showy; in addition to being a good weapon they're impressive. What I did back there was a last resort. I never, NEVER, wanted the Military to realize I could be more useful as an assassin than as a soldier."

"If they'd know you could do that they would have ordered you to do it," Ed said quietly.

Roy nodded. "Or Gran would have had me killed on the spot. He wouldn't have liked the idea that I; theoretically; had the ability to kill him in an entirely untraceable way every single time we were in the same room. And the only weapon I needed was the air around him.

Ed shivered. "You can really do that?"

"Theoretically yes, practically no." Roy shrugged. "When I had Maes tattoo the array on me I thought it was simply a matter of a little more practice. The idea was sound in theory but in practice keeping oxygen from diffusing into an area large enough for an unbound person to suffocate in for a period of several minutes would almost certainly require more than enough energy to kill me as well as my target. But channeling carbon dioxide into a closed space and letting nature take its course; that was easy. The only challenge was keeping enough breathable air for you and I."