Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner
Word Count: 8269
Rating: T
Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2021
Warnings: Child abuse/neglect
Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Black Hayate
Pairing: Royai
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family
Chapter: 6 of7
Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang's team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye's hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can't stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart

Chapter 5

Havoc made his way back downstairs and followed the voices around until he found Mustang in the dining room with the documents that they had laid out. He, Breda, and the sheriff were looking over them.

"Hey boss," he said. "What's going on?"

Mustang looked over at him. "How were Hawkeye and Fuery?"

"Alright," he said. "Both were worried about the other. Fuery feels guilty, and the drug kinda lowered Hawkeye's walls, so she's a bit more emotional than usual."

It was his way of saying that she was worried and scared, and she knew that the team would pick up on it. He was sure that the Sheriff could read between the lines as well, but most people were polite enough not to push when something was clearly being framed in a private way. The sheriff appeared to be one of those people.

"So, what's going on out back?" Havoc asked, curious about the noise that he was hearing. It was still going on.

"Falman looked through the records in town," Breda said, "and found evidence that there was a door that led from the outside the basement. No one is exactly sure when it was covered up, but it was. Right now, we've got men out there, digging to find it."

"Why?" Havoc said. "He wasn't getting through that way, if we have to dig to find it." If he had been, surely they would have seen some sign of it."

"If he was using alchemy to cover his tracks, he might have," Mustang said. "But with the ground as saturated as it's been, the rain would have washed away any signs of alchemy used on the ground."

"We also want to know for security's sake," Breda said. "Even if he wasn't getting in that way, if there's a tunnel, or staircase or some other sort of opening, then we need to know so that we can guard against it."

"Right," Havoc said. "That makes sense." He paused, looking towards the kitchen and the back door. "So, who's out there?"

"Most of the men that came back with you," the sheriff said, "and that other fellow of yours. Lieutenant Farman or something."

"Falman," Mustang corrected him

"Falman," the sheriff immediately corrected himself. "Can't get it to stick in my head for some reason."

People always seemed to have a hard time remembering Falman, or his accomplishments and Havoc thought it was tragically ironic, considering that the man had that fantastical memory that he did. He was kind of like Sheska, in that, and Havoc had a brief chill thinking about the unholy memory that would be produced if the two of them ever got together and had children.

"I'm about to head out and check on the progress," Breda said. "You wanna come?" he asked Havoc.

Havoc shrugged. "Might as well. Might pick up a shovel and help."

"No, you won't," Mustang said, and havoc looked back at him, startled.

"Sir?" he said, confused.

Mustang looked at him. "I've noticed the way that you've been pushing yourself. You're not moving smoothly now either. You're not going to be doing any hard labor. You've been neglecting taking care of your legs since the day Hawkeye was looked in the basement. Today you've pushed them even more. You need to rest them."

Havoc made a face. "Boss—I'm not sitting around doing nothing while there's work to be done."

Breda clapped him on the shoulder. "Oh, no one said that you were sitting around doing nothing. Someone's got to write up the report since Hawkeye and Fuery are out of commission."

"Oh. Goody. Great," Havoc deadpanned, and Breda, Mustang, and the sheriff all grinned at him. Well, at least he could provide the entertainment.

He went with Breda out back, waving at Mrs. Nelson who was, it seemed, cooking up a storm in the kitchen, just like Havoc had thought she was. It looked like she was planning on feeding every single man here, and somehow that didn't surprise him in the least.

Out back there was a group of men working behind the house. They seemed to be taking turns digging, although there were plenty of shovels around.

"Where'd we find all the shovels?" Havoc asked, not remembering there being that many around her before.

"General transmuted them," Breda said. "It made it go faster."

"Yeah, I bet," Havoc said, looking at all of the work that had been done.

Running along the house there was a trench, dug down about three feet and extending out about two. It ran for maybe four yards at this point, and they were clearly looking for something very specific. The ground was so wet, though, that the piles of dirt were slippery, sloppy mud piles and the walls of the trench held little integrity. The men themselves were covered in mud, nearly from head to toe, and even Falman himself, who looked to be doing more directing then digging, was pretty muddy too.

Havoc was glad that Fuery was laid up in bed at this point. He didn't need to see trenches like this. Not after his experiences down south. They brought to mind the few stories that Havoc had gotten out of the young man, and even those were sparse. Best for him not to see these, if he could be spared them.

"Any luck?" Breda called out to Falman.

Falman shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "We know it's somewhere in this general vicinity, though, from the pictures I found. The house has been remodeled a time or two, so that makes pinpointing it a bit more difficult. Plus, when these things are removed, they tend it bury the place where the door was."

"Yeh, and the Hawkeyes always were a paranoid bunch," one of the men said. "The family's been around these parts since nigh the beginning of the town. But they've always been a bit squirrely. There's stories that stretch back pretty far. Riza's grandparents here were as well. They didn't like anyone in their business. And old Berthold, now he was a strange one." The man glanced at them, "Look, I ain't saying that I have anything against alchemists. They can be right useful! But there was something off about Berthold, and especially after his wife died of the sickness. Didn't see a lot of him before that but saw less after."

"Yeah?" Havoc said, curious, and wondered if this man would give him more information.

The man nodded. "Bout once a month he'd go around and fix things, charge for them, although it didn't have to be money. Sometimes it was supplies or what have you. You never knew what me might ask. Sometimes he brought his daughter around with him, and sometimes he didn't. She was a slight, shy thing, never played well with the other kids. Just stood back and watched, like she was scared to or something. Worried about her a bit, but she seemed alright, so we just thought it was more of the Hawkeye strangeness."

He paused, though, scratching at his neck, before remembering the mud on his hand and pulling a face. "When she came to school, though, she seemed to be alright. Shy, quiet, but alright. Well-mannered, polite, smart. She was socially awkward, but that was understandable, living in this big house with no one but her strange father. Honestly, she only really started to come out of her shell when that Mustang kid came around." He shrugged. "No one thought he would last, but he did."

"A city boy in the country. Yeah, that's usually a recipe for disaster," Havoc agreed.

The man seemed to take that as encouragement and kept talking. "Oh, there were a few disasters in there," he said with a grin. "But on the whole, it wasn't too bad. All the girls were enamored with him, though, and the boys hated him for it. He would start to get a little arrogant, and then Riza'd come along and slap him down, sometimes literally. She'd fuss at him and chew him out about the stupid things he'd do, and he always looked surprised, but he listened and learned. It was honestly the most animated that any of us had ever seen her, and it was refreshing to know she wasn't completely taken over by her father."

The man sighed, looking back at the house. "Kinda hoped the two of them would get married one day. They were good for each other. You should have seen how withdrawn she got again when Roy left. A few of us worried about her, but we all knew better then to step into the private affairs of the Hawkeyes. Things never went well for the people that did that. When Roy came back just before Berthold died, we didn't know how things were going to go. He was a soldier then, and Berthold did not like the military. When Berthold passed, the talk about town was if Roy would marry Riza, or if she would follow him." He shook his head and sighed. "She followed him, but not in the way that we thought she would."

"Yeah, I bet," Havoc said.

"Imagine our shock when we saw the newspapers talking about the Flame Alchemist and The Hawk's Eyes, and we knew that they were our Roy and Riza." The man continued. "It was a shock to us, and the talk of the town for months. Even more surprising was when Riza turned up one day, talked to some people about making sure her home was restored a bit and kept up, paid for it, and then left. We had no idea what was going on. She had some strange requirements too," he said, thinking about it. "We weren't to look through the study or the basement. She took care of the study, and Roy came a few days later, and took care of the basement. He never returned, but she came back once a year to check on things, and then left. I think she'd write Mrs. Nelson and maybe a couple of others to check on things, just to be sure."

"Yeah, sounds like the yearly trips she'd make," Havoc said. "Never knew where she went, though."

The man shrugged. "Here, it seems." He looked back at the house again. "You know, even though they never married, it seems those two are still together."

"Yeah," Havoc agreed. "Boss and Hawk are pretty inseparable. They always manage to find their way back to each other. And," he grinned, looking at the man, "she still gets onto him and fusses at him."

The man chortled and rocked on his heels. "Some things never change, do they? Maybe one day the two of them will just go ahead and get married."

"Maybe so," Havoc said, and he knew that he wouldn't object, although he wasn't counting on it anyway. Not until everything was done and Mustang's plans were complete. The only thing those two were more dedicated to then each other, was the plan.

Havoc watched for a few more minutes before looking over at Falman. "So, what are you going to do if you don't find—"

He was cut off by the shout of a man who was digging. "Hey! Hey, I think we found it!"

Falman gave Havoc a look that seemed to say, "you doubted me?" and all three of them headed over to where the men were digging. There were the remnants of a structure there, capped and sealed off. It looked like it could have been part of a chute or an escape at some point, and the men were trying their best to clear the soggy ground away from it so that they could get to it easier. That, of course, wasn't easy, considering the soggy ground around them, but they were still trying.

"General!" Breda called, his voice bellowing like only he could. "We've found something!"

Within just a few moments, Mustang was outside, and so was the sheriff, both of them heading straight towards the area that the men were gathered around. It only took them a second to realize the trouble that the men were having with the ground, and only one word from Mustang to clear them away.

"Move," he said, and all of the men scrambled back.

Mustang clapped and put his hands on the ground, the familiar blue light crackling up. Or, well, listening to the murmurs of the men who were watching, it might only be familiar to Havoc, Breda and Falman, Havoc decided. Maybe he was just so used to alchemy and seeing it that he forgot just how amazing it could be.

Mustang raised up part of the ground in thick walls, to prevent the slop of mud from running down in it, and, at the same time, drew the moisture out of the ground around it. Havoc could feel the ground under his feet become a little firmer, but he heard others suddenly notice that the ground around them was soggier. They were standing further back, so he guessed that Mustang had simply moved the water away.

"Alright. That won't hold forever," Mustang said. "The ground is too saturated for that. But it will hold for now."

The opening was clearly sealed up, and that was another problem that they were going to have to deal with. Havoc heard talk of tools and the like, but he just smirked, knowing wait was coming next. Mustang clapped again, and put his hands on the seal, transforming it into a door. Breda climbed down into the area Mustang had made, and together they pulled each side open. It was dark down there, and Mustang pulled on a glove, snapping and sending a small line of fire down it. Stairs were still there, rickety though they seemed.

"Falman. Stay here and guard the entrance," Mustang said.

"Yes, sir," Falman replied, looking as if he really didn't want to go down there anyway.

Havoc climbed down to join them, And Mustang turned to look at him, clearly about to tell him to stay behind too. "I'm coming, boss," he said. "I need to see this through."

Mustang looked at him, and then nodded. "Alright. Then let's go."

"I'm coming as well," the sheriff said.

"So am I," Thompson said.

"No." Mustang's voice was sharp. "This is the captain's private life. We know about it, but I am not going to expose her life to people she hasn't given permission to."

"This is part of an investigation that's happened here, where I am," the sheriff said. "This is my jurisdiction. I need to be part of this."

There was a clear tension building between Mustang and the Sheriff, and it was all fueled by Mustang's protectiveness over Hawkeye. Mustang, though, was not a stupid man. He understood how to weigh things and seemed to come to some of decision.

"We're going to go down first," he said. "Let us look around, make sure that there's nothing sensitive, either both personally for the captain, or militarily, and then, once we've made a clean sweep, then we'll call you down." The sheriff looked like he was going to protest, but Mustang cut him off. "We don't know what we're going to find down there, but we do know that it involves the military. With my alchemy I'm better equipped to handle any potential problems, and I know my men and what they're capable of. It will be easier for us to handle any potential problems. We know how to work with each other."

The sheriff was silent for a moment, and then he nodded. "Alright," he said. "But if you're not back soon, we're coming down."

Mustang nodded, and they headed down the dark, damp stairs. There was no light down there, but apparently Falman had thought ahead, and gave Breda a lantern before they headed down. The stairs were steep and old and creaky. They carefully made their way down them, Havoc just hoping that they wouldn't collapse under them. The stairs led into an open area that obviously had once been part of the basement but had been blocked off at some point in time, although Havoc couldn't see a reason why.

"How did I miss this?" Mustang murmured to himself.

"Depends on how thick the walls are," Breda said, going over to it with the light.

Mustang followed him over and beckoned for him to shine his light in a particular place. "Here," he said. "Signs of alchemy. This was how he was getting in and out of the house. This was how he locked Hawkeye in the basement and escaped."

"But how did he get down here?" Havoc said. "It wasn't the way that we came in."

"No, it wasn't," Mustang said, and turned to look around and see what else he could see down there.

Breda swung his lantern around too, trying to see what else there was down there. It carefully roamed the walls, until Mustang called for it to come to a stop.

"There," he said. "Right there. I want a closer look." They walked over, and Mustang knelt to examine the wall. "there's alchemy here too. There must be a wall here with something behind it."

"Want me to get the sheriff?" Havoc asked, this seeming like something that it might be a good idea to have the man in on.

"Yes," Mustang said. "Bring them down."

Havoc went back over to the bottom of the stairs and called up. "Hey! You two come on down. We found how Johnson was entering!"

It was only a couple of moments later that the Sheriff and Thompson were coming down the stairs and joining them in this closed off section of the basement.

"Where?" the sheriff asked.

Mustang gestured towards the wall. "Over there. He's been transmuting himself a way into the basement. But I think that he also transmuted his way in here too. This wall shows signs of alchemy. I'm going to see what's behind it."

The sheriff nodded, and they all stood back as Mustang clapped and put his hands on the wall. The wall itself fell away, revealing a tunnel behind it. The sheriff and Thompson looked at each other, but Mustang was staring at the tunnel, resolute. Breda and Havoc followed suit. They were going to figure this out.

"Let's go," Mustang said, all business, his voice holding all of his command.

He started forward, Breda and Havoc right behind him, the sheriff and Thompson following behind after a moment. The tunnel was earthen, and sodden. It looked like it might collapse at any moment, but Mustang walked on, not deterred in the least. It was winding, and every so often there was a plank of wood with a transmutation circle carved into it. Mustang activated them as they went, and it became obvious that these were for structural integrity, which really was ingenious when you got down to it. It still didn't take away Havoc's unease at being underground in a sodden earthen tunnel after the area has been completely saturated with rain and the water table had to be higher than normal, but it was at least something to try to help.

The tunnel went on for a long way, completely dark and only with room for them to walk single file. Eventually, after what felt like forever, but probably wasn't as long as he thought it was thanks to the dark, the tunnel started to slope upwards. It was a relief to Havoc, and Breda's shoulders seemed to relax fractionally as well. This tunnel was claustrophobic, and Havoc would be glad to get out here.

"Any idea where we are?" Mustang called out, breaking the silence. "I'm completely lost."

"Well, if I'm right, we're still on the Hawkeye property, but nearing the edges of it," the Sheriff said. "I think we're heading towards Johnson's house."

"Really?" Mustang said. "Now that's interesting."

"I wonder how deep this tunnel is," Thompson said. "How many properties could we pass under and the people up top have no idea?"

"Theoretically, you could have a whole maze of tunnels under the town, if they were properly structured," Mustang said.

"A whole other society, huh?" Havoc said. "Not a bad idea."

"It's like the Ishvalans that were living in the sewers," Breda said. "Living down there and making their own lives separate from those above, for the most part."

"Never would have thought of that," Thompson said.

"It isn't something I think you'd have to worry about too much," Mustang said. "The sewers were already structured, so they didn't have to worry about keeping up anything. But for something like this you'd need either alchemists or engineers to make sure that the integrity is maintained. That's not a skill that you're going to find to be very common."

Mustang frowned as he came across another one of the carved transmutation circles. "It will be interesting to see if Johnson is smart enough to have figured out how to do this on his own."

"You think he didn't?" Breda said.

"I don't know yet," Mustang said, "but it feels familiar, like alchemy I've seen somewhere else before."

"What do you mean?" the sheriff asked.

"All alchemy tends to carry with it a personal touch," Mustang said, "especially if it's unusual or new alchemy. Even if you trace back the most basic of alchemy as far as we can, you can see that there's a certain pattern to it. Think of it like how engineers can tell another engineer's work by the way it's constructed or put together. Alchemy circles are basically elaborate calculations. You can tell who developed something if you're familiar enough with the person's work."

"Huh," Thompson said. "Never knew that."

Mustang shook his head. "It's' not something that most people would notice. Even amateur alchemists often don't see it. It's really only noticed when you get into the high-level research and development of circles."

"And these seem familiar to you," Breda said, pulling them back on topic.

"Yeah, but I can't put my finger on it," he said. "I need to get a better look at them and do some research."

By this time, the floor was sloping up more and if felt like they were coming to an end. In fact, as they rounded a corner, they came to what appeared to be a dead end.

"What?" Thompson said. "Don't tell me that—"

"Don't worry," Mustang said, clapping his hands together and placed his hands on the wall in front of them. It parted, opening up into another dark, empty space. But this was a structured place, and a staircase was clearly seen. This was, obviously, a basement, and the exited out into it

They all looked around for a moment, Mustang frowning a bit as he did.

"What is all this stuff?" Thompson asked.

"It looks like supplies to me," the sheriff said. "And I get the feeling they're not for anything good."

"They're alchemic supplies," Mustang said. "And in an unusual quantity."

"Just what have we stumbled into?" Havoc asked.

"More then we bargained for, but maybe exactly what we needed," Mustang said with a confident smirk. "Let's keep going."

They headed towards the door of the basement, up the stairs and out of it, to emerge in a house. The house wasn't well cared for, and definitely not clean, but Thompson and the sheriff seemed to recognize it.

"This is the old Steadman place that Johnson bought," Thompson said.

"I thought so," the sheriff said. "This proves quite a lot."

"And opens up a lot of questions," Breda said, looking around.

There were footsteps from outside, and then, suddenly there was a man in the doorway with a gun.

"Hold, Carey!" the sheriff called out, and the man lowered his gun.

"Sheriff?" he said, confused. "Thompson? Roy Mustang?"

"Yeah, it's us," the sheriff said. He hitched a thumb back towards the basement door. "Found a tunnel. Followed it all the way here."

"A tunnel?" Carey said.

"Yeah. Make sure no one gets in here, alright?" the sheriff said,

"Yessir," Carey said.

They poked around the house a little more after that, and then headed back, with just a few things that Mustang and Breda wanted to give a look over. But the day was drawing to a close. They needed to get back to the house, and the other men needed to get back to theirs.

The walk didn't take terribly long, although Havoc's legs were hurting him quite a bit by this point. He was definitely going to be in a lot of pain tonight when he finally stopped moving, which was incentive to keep moving. Of course, if he kept moving, he'd also end up hurting a lot, so it was a lose-lose situation all the way around.

By the time they got back to the house, Havoc was nearly hobbling, and Breda had fallen back to walk beside him, just in case. Many of the men had already left, leaving just a few that were there keeping an eye on the place. The Doctor had the wagon prepared and looked relieved to see them.

"General Mustang!" he called. "Good. If you hadn't of shown up, I was just going to take your man on with me anyway."

"Apologies, Doctor," Mustang said. "We were following up on an unexpected lead."

"Well, I've got a couple of the men ready to bring down the young man of yours. We're going to load him up and…"

Havoc stopped listening to the doctor's words, focusing instead on getting himself inside. His legs were aching fiercely now, and Breda, concerned, had decided to pull Havoc's arm around his shoulders. Havoc didn't mind. He really needed to sit down. His legs had had it, and there really was no choice. He was going to have to take one of those pills tonight.

Grimacing in pain, he let Breda lead him inside, all but collapsing at the small bench that was just inside the door.

"You really did a number on yourself," Breda said.

"Yeah, yeah," Havoc replied. "Just help me get to the mud room. Gotta get all this stuff off."

"Nuh-uh," Breda said. "We're gonna get you upstairs and to the bath. You can get cleaned up, up there, and go straight to bed after that. And you are taking one of your little pills tonight. I'll take care of any of the mud you leave behind or any of the mess you make."

Havoc wanted to object, but really there was no fight left in him for this. He was in pain, and he was filthy and the last thing he wanted to do was clean. Breda got an arm under him again, and helped him stand up, Havoc letting out a hiss of pain as he did. They went towards the stairs, and then very slowly made their way up them. It was hard, but Havoc dug in deep and managed. Breda all but dumped him in the bathroom, telling him to strip, started the water, and then left. When he came back it was with clean clothes and a towel for him, and a bottle of some kind.

He dropped some of it in the bathwater, and watched it for a second before turning away, seemingly satisfied.

"What was that?" Havoc asked him.

"I was gonna give it to you later, but you've put yourself in this much pain I thought I'd go ahead. Remember that oil you got on that trip to Ishval? The one that helped you so much? I managed to get my hands on another form of it. You're not supposed to rub this in directly, but soak in it, and it should help. Seems like a good time to try it out." Breda explained.

"I'll take it," Havoc said.

Breda helped Havoc up and into the tub, and Havoc let out a hiss followed by a sigh of relief as the warm water and the oil hit his legs and back. It wasn't an immediate relief, but it did help. Breda gathered up Havoc's muddy things, then, and stood up. "I'll be back later to get to this floor. If you need anything, just yell."

"Yeah. Thanks, Breda."

Breda waved off his thanks and left, and Havoc relaxed back into the tub. He tilted his head back and listened. He could hear other people moving around the house. The nurse seemed to be checking on Hawkeye, and then there was movement down near Fuery's room, too. He heard walking and voices and worked out that they were taking Fuery out to get him to the doctor's office. Havoc had wanted to say something to him before he left, but too late now. He'd just have to give him a call later or maybe go see him, once he felt up to walking that distance again.

Breda came back in at one point, still muddy himself, but less so, and took care of the floor as promised. He said that someone had finished connecting the phone, and that it was in working order. The sheriff had guards stationed around the house and the shack that Johnson had stayed at. He also had some men stationed around the house, just in case. With half his men down, Mustang had thanked the sheriff who said for him not to worry about it, that they looked after their own. Breda also said that the Nelsons were sticking around, at least until everyone was settled for the night. Mrs. Nelson was cooking up a storm, and she was keeping things clean too. Mr. Nelson had taken care of the horses and had helped with a lot of the logistics of things, such as building something around the outside entrance to the basement so that it wouldn't get mud around it again and filling back up where they had dug. Fuery had been taken on to the doctor's office, and Hawkeye was sleeping again, the stuff that Johnson had used apparently knocking her for a loop. Havoc appreciated the update, and thanked his friend before he left again, to take of whatever else there was do.

Eventually, Havoc was ready to get out of the tub, and he managed to pull himself up and out of it fairly well. He still had a good strength in his arms and was well versed in relying on them more than his legs. Shifting the burden to them and giving his legs a rest wasn't too much of a switch. He dressed himself, but Mr. Nelson appeared to help him to the room, the rest of them being far too muddy. He settled into the bed, Mrs. Nelson coming up not long afterward with some food for him and handing him his bottle of pills. Havoc ate, took one, and then laid down to sleep as best he could. His legs were still screaming at him, but he didn't want to take another pill.

He heard the others getting showers, the bathroom and other floors getting cleaned, and Mustang checking on Hawkeye as he drifted. Breda came in at one point, and made Havoc take something else that helped him get to sleep better. As Havoc drifted off, his last thought was that he sure wanted to get back home soon.

By the time Havoc woke the next day, the sun was already well up. He groaned as he woke up, groggy from the medicine he had taken, and grimaced as he felt the pain in his legs. That wasn't a good sign, although there wasn't much he could do about it at this point. Slowly and carefully, he rolled out of bed and dressed himself before carefully making his way to the bathroom and then downstairs.

Hawkeye was at the kitchen table when he got there, also looking groggy and nursing a cup of coffee. Falman was at the stove, cooking. Hawkeye gave Havoc a smile as he came in, and as she turned her head towards him, he let out a bit of an exclamation at her face.

One side of it was covered in deep blues and purples and looked like it hurt. There were a couple of cuts near her eyes. Her hair looked like she had maybe run her fingers through it, and she was wearing what appeared to be one of Mustang's shirts instead of her usual tightly fitting ones.

"Geeze, Riza, good morning I guess," he said.

She gave him a tired smile. "It's practically afternoon," she said, "but yes, good morning."

"How are you feeling?" Havoc asked her as he sat down. Falman put a cup of coffee in front of him, and he nodded his thanks to the other man.

"Hungover and sore," was her answer. "I have no idea what he used on me, but the effects of it linger." She looked at him. "How are you feeling? I was told your legs were in a lot of pain last night."

"Still are," Havoc said, "although nowhere near as bad. I don't plan on running anywhere anytime soon, though."

"No, I wouldn't think so," Hawkeye said. She paused. "Thank you, Jean, for all that you did yesterday."

Havoc waved it off and swallowed the sip of coffee he was taking. "No, don't worry about it. It's just what we do."

Riza merely smiled back at him, tiredness still in her eyes.

"So, where's Mustang and Breda? And any word on Fuery?" Havoc asked.

"The general called this morning to check on Fuery," Falman said. "He's doing fine, nothing wrong with his spine. He just pulled a few things in his back, but that, his ribs, his arm, and his head should heal up fine with time."

He walked over to them with a pan and slid some eggs onto their plates before returning to the stove to tend to another pan. "The Sheriff called this morning as well. Breda and Mustang took off after that. I'm not entirely sure why, but I think something may have happened or been discovered at Johnson's house or shack. They headed out to investigate."

Falman returned to them, sliding some sort of hash browns onto their plates, before returning, again, to the stove. "They told me to stay here and keep an eye on things. I've had the basement door locked, just in case, and Hayate patrolling the house. Nothing has happened, except for the men who kept an eye on the property last night asking me for some coffee, and Mrs. Nelson calling and saying that she's going to bring some more food by, as well as our clothes."

He brought over another pan and pulled them out some bacon. "She bundled up all our dirty clothes last night and took them with her, insistent on cleaning them."

Hawkeye smiled. "That sounds like Mrs. Nelson," she said. "She was always doing things for others."

The three of them ate quietly together, Hayate making an appearance for food one time, but otherwise not begging off of them like he liked to do. It was clear that he was focused on his job of patrolling the house. It was a couple of hours later when they heard a sharp bark from him, and a skittering of his feet on the floor. Falman was the first one up, a hand on his gun, just in case. Hayate didn't seem to be alarmed, though, which was a good sign. But after everything that had happened, no one could really blame them for not being cautions. Hawkeye, too, had her gun out and ready to go, making her way to the entranceway living room, just in case. Havoc stayed seated on the couch, his gun half hidden. Sitting or standing it make no difference to him. He had gotten to be a good shot either way.

It turned out, though, to just be Breda, who stomped his boots on the stoop, opened the door, and slammed it behind him. He looked at his welcoming committee for a moment, and then carried on as all of them lowered their guns. After all, he had to have expected this as well. All of them were a bit paranoid normally. Now it was in overdrive.

"You're back sooner than I expected," Falman said. "I thought you would have been gone longer than that to look over all of the information found in Johnson's house and shack."

"Johnson's dead," Breda said bluntly as he stepped into the living room. That sentence immediately had all of their attention.

"What?" Havoc said, clearly startled. How could Johnson be dead? He had seen him delivered to the prison himself, seen the deputy take custody of him, seen the first aid done on the shoulder where Havoc shot him. "He couldn't have bled out!"

"No," Breda said. "He didn't. When the sheriff went in this morning, he found the guard there, also dead, his throat slit. Johnson had been murdered in a similar manner."

"Who was the guard?" Hawkeye asked.

"Robert Harper," Breda said. "Sheriff says he's got a family. Young. He wasn't looking forward to breaking this to them."

"Oh, no," Hawkeye said.

"that's not all," Breda said. "A man named Brandon Pruett was guarding the shack. He was also found dead this morning, throat slit, not far from the ashes that was all that was left of the cabin. It was burned to the ground."

They all exchanged looks at that. This wasn't a one-time thing; this was definitely someone covering up something.

Breda wasn't finished. "The two men guarding his house last night, John Yuerisk and Adam Presson were also murdered with the same MO. The house there was burned to the ground too, but it looked as if the basement had been cleaned out first."

"What about the tunnel that led from his house to this one?" Falman asked.

"Collapsed," Breda said. "It looks like it was done on purpose too. Mustang is going back through it, reconstructing it and looking for the plates that held those transmutation circles. He told me to meet him back here."

Havoc ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, man, what a mess."

Breda nodded. "The sheriff has asked for our help with this. With all of the stranded passengers, the pool of who could have done it is pretty wide. It's too much for him to handle alone, especially with the deaths of those four men." He looked at Falman. "You worked in Investigations for a while and worked with Hughes. Mustang wants you down there helping."

"Of course," Falman said, and left immediately to go get his uniform jacket and whatever else he needed.

"What about us?" Hawkeye said. "We can help out too."

Breda held his hands up. "That you need to take up with the general. Personally, I think it might be a good thing if we all went, but Falman can at least get things started." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, back towards the front. "I did borrow a small cart and horse, just so you two wouldn't have to walk the whole way if you can convince the general to let you go. I also brought back the laundry that Mrs. Nelson took with her, and some food she sent along."

"Bring it in," Hawkeye said. She looked over at Havoc, her gaze determined even with her bruised face. "Think you're good for it?"

Havoc grinned at her. "Oh yeah, I can help out with this," he said. "Better than sitting around uselessly."

"Good," Hawkeye said. "Then we'll be ready to go as soon as the General gets here."

It was clear that, whether Mustang was in favor of this or not, Hawkeye planned on being involved, and there was really no arguing with her on that. Breda went to unload the cart and eat something, and Havoc and Hawkeye went upstairs to change. They ran into Falman on the way down, who they admonished to be careful on his way to town. Hawkeye called for him to wait, and then followed him down the stairs, calling Hayate over to her. Havoc could hear her instructing the little dog to go with Falman and guard him, and then the two were sent on their way.

"I don't think it's a good idea for anyone to go alone," Havoc heard her explain to Breda. "If none of us are going with him, then Hayate is a good choice."

"Yeah, makes sense," Breda said.

Breda hauled the laundry upstairs where they went through it, claiming all of their uniform pieces. Havoc had a bit of confusion between his pants and Falman's, but Falman was thinner than he was, so that was quickly figured out. By the time they were dressed and ready, there was an odd sound from the basement. Breda made his way down to the basement while Hawkeye took up a position looking out back, towards the entrance they had found. Havoc stayed in between, ready to give assistance as needed.

Suddenly Hawkeye called out "All clear!" and lowered her gun. "it's just the General."

Sure enough, about the time Breda got to the top of the basement stairs, the backdoor opened to admit a very filthy General Mustang. He was covered in dirt and mud, and honestly, it made sense. Those tunnels had been made of dirt and the like. Of course, he would get filthy reconstructing them.

"Any luck?" Breda said, as Mustang headed straight for the washroom.

Mustang tossed something to Breda before he moved into the washroom fully. "Not really. I found part of one of the plaques, if you can call it anything useful." He started to strip down in the washroom, clearly not wanting to get mud everywhere. "Other than that, nothing useful at all. I made sure to collapse the tunnel back again. I don't want anyone else using it. But I will say this," he came out, a towel wrapped around him, "that tunnel was definitely collapsed with alchemy."

He started to head for the stairs, and then paused, looking at Hawkeye and Havoc. "Why are you two in full uniform?"

"Because we're going to help with the investigation," Hawkeye said.

Mustang frowned. "No. Absolutely not."

"And why not?" Hawkeye demanded.

"I won't have the two of you exhausting yourselves like that." Mustang said.

"It won't exhaust us," Hawkeye said.

"I said no," Mustang said and started walking out and towards the stairs. "I'm going to shower, and then Breda and I are going to help with the investigation." He left, leaving the three of them in the kitchen, his steps echoing on the stairs.

Hawkeye stood there for a moment, then her eyes hardened, and she strode after him, purposeful in her walk.

Breda and Havoc stayed put and stayed quiet for a moment.

"How much you wanna bet she just walks in on him?" Havoc asked.

There was the sudden noise of a door being flung open, a strangled shout of "Hawkeye, what the-!" before the last word was lost in the slamming of the door.

"Why would I bet on a sure thing?" Breda said.

Havoc shrugged. "What some food?"

"Sure."

By the time that Mustang and Hawkeye came back down the stairs, Mustang was a bit grumpy but not arguing the point anymore, Hawkeye apparently presenting her case to him well. They ate, and then all four of them headed out, Havoc and Hawkeye riding in the back of the cart that Breda had borrowed. It wasn't a long ride into town, but once there it was clear to see that people weren't happy and that things were tense.

"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us," Breda said.

"Yeah, we do, but we're going to do it." Mustang replied.

Although they weren't much of a military presence, having all of them there did help to bring order to the chaos. Falman already had a system going, and so they jumped in and helped to smooth it along. Falman handled a majority of the interviews, recording names, statements, and various other details. Havoc had never really had the chance to see this side of Falman in play before, not like this, and it was fascinating to watch him. He understood, now, why he had been such an asset to Investigations and why General Armstrong was trying her best to get him back to Briggs.

Breda, likewise, was also an asset. He helped to look over the statements that they were given, organizing and classifying them. He had piles and piles of them, but he also had a system going. Havoc had a feeling that he and Falman were going to be working late into the night on this, like a giant puzzle that they needed to put together and figure out. Havoc was mostly on organizing duty, although he had his own ways to soften people up before they went into be questioned. Mustang oversaw the whole operation, Hawkeye a step behind him, like she always was, or going somewhere with the authority of his orders.

There were a few other soldiers that had been on the train, as well as a few that were former soldiers, and they were quickly drafted into helping with crowd control, after they had passed through their own questionings. The sheriff and his men were working with Breda on classifying a lot of the information and making some follow up questions that they needed to tend to later.

All in all, it was several hours work that stretched into the night for all of them. No one was happy with that, from the people who were helping, to the people who were being questioned, to the townspeople. It didn't help that there were more than a few people in town who were in mourning. With four men dead, murdered, no one could blame them for that. It was probably the biggest tragedy this town had seen in a very long time, if at all.

Havoc could sense that some of the townspeople blamed them, and he could understand why. The military was often at the center of trouble, and Mustang and anyone associated with him definitely tended towards that. It was just the way it was. But others, although unhappy, seemed to recognize that it wasn't their fault, even though they were involved.

All in all, it made for a very difficult and long day, one that had all of them tired and dead on their feet by the end of it. They ended up borrowing the cart again to head back home, something that turned out to be a good thing, as the doctor sent Fuery back with them, saying that he still needed to be careful, but that he would be fine overall.

The days after that moved quickly. Mustang made call after call out to Eastern Headquarters and to Central. There was a lot to report on, after all, and it took a bit of finagling to make it work so that Hawkeye's secret wasn't exposed. It was written off, it seemed, as if Johnson was under the impression that she knew more about Mustang's alchemy then she did, and that he could get it from her. With Johnson dead, well, he couldn't refute it. Of course, anyone in the know knew differently, but there were precious few of them—that they knew of.

Hawkeye grew increasingly tense over the days. None of them knew if Johnson had managed to give knowledge of her tattoo to anyone or not. There was no way to tell if other people knew about it or not. All that could be known was that Johnson knew. It was understandable that she was high strung about it. Mustang was too, and that put the rest of the men on edge. Add to that, that it was still a mystery how those supplies in Johnson's basement got moved with no one able to travel, and it was a true mystery, and a chilling one at that.

It was at least a week later before the military was able to get anyone into the town. It was another week before the rail lines started running again. The rains had caused massive damage over every region they had been hanging above, and crews were hard at work trying to repair things. The team did, though, eventually go on to their original destination, but by the time they had gotten there, the trail had grown cold. Without anything else that they could do, the team returned to Central. They were truly grateful to be back home.

But Havoc couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't over yet. So much had happened, and so much was still hanging in the balance and left unknown. There was no way that this was permanently over. Something else had to happen. It didn't make sense otherwise. There were too many loose ends for his liking, and if there were too many for him, then there were definitely too many for Mustang.

Havoc thought about it, as he sat in his apartment, looking out the window at the night, and flicked his toothpick away. Yep. Something was definitely coming. The question was, what and when?

And, what to do in the meantime?

His hand reached out for the phone, and he rattled off an address to the operator. "Hey—Rebecca? Wanna go out tomorrow night?"