Hours later, Emily has to give Mustang and Hughes some credit—they are thorough. They're smart too, which she supposes shouldn't surprise her. She has a good feel for how intelligent Elric is, and she knows damn well that he doesn't suffer idiots gladly. That he would surround himself with people who are at least as competent as the rest of the BAU makes sense.

Mustang has actually passed out sitting up in his chair, and Emily can't quite bring herself to wake him up and give him shit for it, tempting though it is.

"Give him ten," Hughes says, coming over and sitting by her. "He'll be right as rain and ready to go for another five or six hours if you need him to."

"Know something about long hours and urgency, I see," she comments.

"We do," Hughes agrees. His expression is fond as he looks at Mustang. "He's hiding it well, but he's worried sick about Edward. It's made him less personable than he usually tries to be when working with other groups."

Eager for a distraction, even if it's one that's just irritating rather than terrifying, she says, "You got over your outrage pretty quickly."

Hughes gives her a lazy and indulgent smile. "The last time I saw Edward, he was fifteen, and he didn't put up with shit from anyone, least of all an adult male."

"I have noticed Elric's issues with male authority figures. Obviously there's some issues with his father or father figure in his past."

"Nail on the head," Hughes says with a toothy grin. "His dad took off without warning when Edward and Alphonse were… five and four? A year later, his mom got sick and died. He harbors some pretty intense hate of his father for leaving their mother to die, even though he probably couldn't have known."

"He still around?" Emily asks. "Elric's father?"

"You'd have to ask Roy. What little I know, Alphonse explained. Edward can't talk about his father without dissolving into near incoherent rage or shutting down completely—at least last time I asked. If that's improved at all, you'd have to ask Roy."

"Alphonse is Elric's brother?"

"His precious little brother—who's probably bigger than he is."

Emily shook her head. "I can't imagine two of them."

Hughes laughs. "Edward and Alphonse are nearly polar opposites. It still baffles me that Ed mostly raised him, but Al's got perfect manners. They're both stubborn as hell though. Ed's more obvious about it, but I wouldn't want to stand between Alphonse and a goal, either. Both of them are driven."

"Driven?" Emily says, leaning back and stretching her neck and shoulders. "I'm not sure that's the word I'd use for him."

"Really?" Hughes asks, obviously surprised.

"Really," she says. "He's…" she pauses to think about it. "He loves a puzzle, but I don't think he sees what we do as much of a challenge. Even though what we do is taking people apart, understanding how they think, he just… doesn't think it's that hard or that remarkable."

Hughes smiles. "That sounds like Edward, though I'll admit that I'm a little surprised that he's managed to apply his brilliance toward people." He glances over at Mustang. "Understanding what makes people think has always been Roy's area of expertise. Though, I suppose if they've been together for nearly a decade, then Edward would have certainly picked up things from Roy."

Emily's distaste must show on her face.

"What did Roy do to put such a bad taste in your mouth?" Hughes asks, still more amused than not. Emily can tell he's the type of person who copes with laughter and jokes, but they haven't missed the keen eyes and the keener mind behind them.

"It's not really anything he did, specifically," she says.

"Hmm…" Hughes hums thoughtfully. "So it really is just that he's involved with Edward then?"

"You're a father," Emily says, remembering Hughes saying something about his daughter. "Would you be okay with your daughter being involved with a thirty-year-old man when she was sixteen?"

"I'd slit his fucking throat," Hughes says with a grin that has more of an edge on it than she's seen before, and she's suddenly very sure that he would do exactly that. It's gone within moments, softening into something gentler, more sincere before he looks up at the ceiling again. "But my beautiful, perfect Elicia will never live the kind of life Edward has. At least, I pray she never does. Hopefully, when she's sixteen, she'll just be discovering boys or girls, still wanting to play dress-up, hopefully she still likes baking with her mom. In other words, Elicia will still be a child."

He turns to face her again and says, "I don't think Edward has been a child since he attempted human transmutation. That Gate that Roy speaks about? It cracked Edward's mind open and poured information I don't think any human should ever possess into it." His face goes solemn. "A child wouldn't have the sense of mind to create a new array in the wake of just losing his leg. A child wouldn't offer his right arm in exchange for his brother's soul." He sighs heavily. "I never saw what Roy did, what was left of the array, what happened to the thing it created—and from my understanding, it was a thing. I know that what was left gave Roy nightmares for weeks after he returned to East City. I can't speak to what Edward went through that night, but I can tell you, after it? He wasn't a child anymore."

"How old was he?" Emily asks.

Hughes blinks, thinking. "When he committed the taboo?" She nods. "Thirteen," he says. Emily is sure he's lying, even though he's decent at it, which means Elric was probably younger than he wants to admit. That doesn't make her feel any better, but she doesn't call him on it.

"And Mustang?"

Hughes shrugs, the smile back in place, a more obvious mask for having been shown what is behind it. "Roy had sort of a unique upbringing. He understands better than most that age is just a number. If Edward decided that Roy was what he wanted, well… Have you ever seen anyone successfully stand between Edward Elric and a goal?"

"No," Rossi says, showing he was eavesdropping. "I haven't."

"Then why do you assume that Roy was any more resistant to the force of nature that is Edward Elric than anyone else?"

Rossi chuckles, though it rings with the punch drunkenness of exhaustion. "Force of nature is a good way to describe him," he says. He runs a hand over his face. "I'm surprised that he's slept through this."

Head swimming with far too many revelations about things that she barely understands, Emily says, "Actually, I'm not sure he doesn't have the right idea." She pauses as a yawn finds its way out of her. "Even we have to sleep. We should probably head back to the motel. Seaver, you can stay with me. Reid, are you good with Hughes? Rossi, you got Mustang?"

"That's fine with me," Rossi says.

Hughes frowns. "Wouldn't it be just as easy to have me and Roy share a room?"

"Reid usually rooms with Morgan, since they're together. I share with JJ, Ed bunks with Rossi. Since Seaver and I are the only women, it makes sense for us to share. That leaves Reid and Rossi with open bunks."

"Well, yes, but wouldn't it make more sense to stay with one another?" Hughes asks as if the question is totally innocent.

"You can keep playing the idiot card all you like, Mr. Hughes," Rossi says. "We aren't buying it. If it's all the same to you, I think I speak for all of us when I say we'd rather have the two of you under our observation. If you find that objectionable, I'm sure the good folks here could spare a couple cells for you two to occupy."

Hughes puts his hands up defensively, laughing with a nervous edge to it. "No, that won't be necessary," he says. "I have no desire to spend my first night alive sleeping in a prison cell. Roy and I can certainly catch up later."

"I'll call Garcia and let her know we're calling it a night," Reid says, rubbing at his eyes. He looks exhausted, rings growing beneath his eyes that she hasn't seen in some time. He's also slouching more than she's seen recently, pulling in on himself, closing himself down. Emily knows it's because he's just as stressed out about Morgan missing as they are about Ed and JJ. It's different, when it's your significant other involved.

" Shit ," Emily hisses.

"What?" Hughes startles to attention, assessing the room for potential threats with a practiced eye.

"Will," she says.

Rossi's face tightens as he frowns, and Reid looks just as upset.

"Who?" Hughes asks.

"JJ's husband," Emily says, looking at Rossi and Reid. "Should we tell him? What should we tell him? JJ usually at least sends him a text at night to let him know she's okay. Honestly, I'm surprised he hasn't pinged one of us yet."

Reid's cell goes off, and he sighs in relief. "That's because Garcia has us covered. She says to have a good night and that she already sent a text to Will letting him know that JJ was going to be out of reach until tomorrow." He raises a sardonic eyebrow. "So she's given us until tomorrow to figure out what to tell him, at least."

Emily sighs. "It's something. We can talk over what we want to tell Will on the way to the motel," she says, reaching into her pocket, checking to make sure she still has the keys for the rental. She tosses a, "Wake him up, will you?" to Hughes.

"Roy," Hughes says, shaking his shoulder. His head falls back, but he stays deeply asleep. Hughes frowns, reaching over, feeling Mustang's neck, checking his face. "His pulse is strong. There's no fever." He frowns. "But the Roy I know doesn't sleep this deeply." He shakes him again. "Roy, wake up!" he says a little louder. "Colonel Mustang!" he snaps, but there's still no response, no groan or mumble, nothing but the deep, even breathing of sound sleep.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.

"So, you two have been helping keep my kid in line?" a medium-skinned woman with long locks pulled into a ponytail says, startling JJ. She and Derek have been keeping somewhat to the fringes, the press of so many strangers in this place they don't know, can't know, making them both a little uneasy. "I'm sorry—I thought Ed's mother was—" she starts, feeling confused.

"Long dead? She is. But make no mistake, those boys are mine as much as they were hers," she says, unyielding, obvious pride in her voice. Her back is straight, her chin held high. She's not a large woman, but her presence, the way she seems to fill a space, push people out of her space with pure force of personality reminds JJ of Ed. "JJ and Morgan, right?" she asks.

"Yes, I'm JJ," she holds out her hand. The woman takes it with a firm, sure grip, then moves to Derek as he introduces himself.

"Izumi Curtis," she introduces herself.

"So you're an alchemist?" Derek asks.

"I'm just an average housewife, but I also happen to be an alchemist."

JJ would dearly like to exchange a look with Derek because she's absolutely sure that this woman is anything but average if she taught Ed. Judging by how the locals are treating Al, JJ suspects that he's just as much a prodigy and just as difficult to handle.

"When did you meet Ed?" JJ asks instead.

"Those hooligans nagged me to teach them alchemy when they were… eight and nine?" She looks over to where Ed is sat, still holding Eden in his arms. Except for letting JJ and Derek hold her, he's barely relinquished her all evening. The proud smile fades into something softer and a little sadder. "Those cheeky brats."

"How long did you teach them?" JJ asks.

"Just two years," she replies, wistful. "But they're mine, all the same."

"I can see that," JJ says, because she can. The pride and strength this woman holds herself with is the same that Ed does.

"Do you have any children?" Mrs. Curtis asks.

"Two. Two boys."

Derek puts his hands up when Mrs. Curtis looks at him. "None for me yet."

Her attention moves back to JJ. "So you understand, then? That you'll do absolutely anything for your children?"

JJ meets her dark, fathomless eyes and nods. "Yes, I do," she says.

Mrs. Curtis nods like a question has been answered. "Ed and Al will get you home to your sons," she says it like a promise. "They'll get you both home, and Ed will get his man back."

"You have an awful lot of faith in him," Derek observes.

She grins, a wolfish, fierce grin that they've seen on Ed countless times. "If you've seen your boy beat a god, is it really faith?" she asks. Before JJ or Derek can think of anything to say in response, her smile softens again, and she adds, "And look at that boy. Falling asleep even among all of this, even with the baby in his arms. Excuse me." She pats JJ's shoulder, then makes a beeline for Ed, swooping Eden out of his arms. He doesn't seem to flinch.

"That's not right," JJ says, standing.

"No, it is not," Derek agrees, and they begin to push their way through the crowd. They aren't the only ones who have noticed though. Al is already there.

"Brother?" he asks, shaking Ed's shoulder. His head rolls back, unresponsive.

"Clear a path!" Derek shouts, and they break through.

JJ goes straight to Ed, crouching and checking his vitals. She breathes a sigh of relief when she finds both his pulse and his breathing strong and steady.

"His vitals seem normal," JJ says, mostly for Derek's benefit. "Ed!" she snaps in her best mom tone, the one that Ed usually responds to. " Edward !"

He doesn't respond, not even with a sigh.

"Agent Jareau," Al says, sounding far more in control than she'd expect. She turns to look at him, and he's holding Ed's wrist for her to see.

The wrist with the tattoo Ed said linked his soul to Mustang's.

The tattoo that is glowing with a soft, deep ruby light.

"I don't think he's drugged, Agent Jareau," Al says, solemn.

Derek moves forward. "Let's get him out of here. He doesn't need to be exposed like this."

A monster of a man with a beard steps forward. "Let me," he says, scooping Ed up like he weighs nothing. Ed looks almost like a child in his arms.

"Why don't you take him back to our rooms, honey?" Mrs. Curtis suggests. "It's been a long day for everyone. We don't want to panic people."

"I'll go with you," Mei says, holding her arms out for Eden, who had apparently fallen asleep in Ed's arms but is starting to make sounds that JJ recognizes as hungry. "We can get you all settled in rooms, and I need to feed Eden anyway."

JJ takes a deep breath and nods. "Okay," she says. "Lead the way."