A short chapter, I know, but I loved ending it there and besides, it's 02.00 AM here in Norway.

Chapter eleven

"HEY, GREG! GET YOUR LAZY ASS OFF YOUR BED RIGHT NOW!" Ed was hammering on the bedroom door. If these bastards had already been planning on framing the General for over a week already, then they were probably living on borrowed time.

Greg finally opened the door and looked curiously at Ed. "What's up?"

"They're gonna frame the General! It's gonna be really simple to fabricate evidence! They could take whatever they needed of blood and hairs or even nails, not to speak of fingerprints while he was unconscious!"

Greg seemed alert immediately. "That's not good. With those bastards controlling things, then they could have him imprisoned tomorrow if they want."

"Don't you think I know that?! Get a meeting together, it's only three in the morning!"

"You're serious? You broke in and read the case files against him? How?" Ed asked Walter.

"It's pretty easy, really. I keep a few pre-signed permission slips from the Führer in my drawer. We work directly under him, didn't you know that? Well, I guess you wouldn't, because we forgot to tell you, but never mind that. Anyway, I just used the maintenance uniform, a wig and a couple of coloured contacts and made sure that the guards knew exactly who Thorvald Xavier Daim is."

"Who?"

"Well, that's the name I came up with. The guards will remember such a weird name, I made sure they wrote it down correctly. So now they're going to be looking for a fake guy with a fake name when they find out today that somebody alerted the General to his arrest."

"So we're gonna warn him today? How?"

"Well, we're kind of going to give him the same lifestyle as you, so we'll be taking your brother too," Greg said.

""Taking?""

"Well, we can't risk them listening in on us exposing our plans."

"You're not drugging my brother!"

"Sorry, kid, but we are. Besides, you should be happy, they'll be staying with us. Ezra is already carrying a couple of camp beds over here."

Ed felt his heart make a leap of joy inside his chest. "You're serious?"

"Yup. Like I said, I read the file and they've got the wrong people with the right evidence. They've got people testifying to having seen the two of you quarrel loudly on several occasions, and there's the fact that Freeman himself is telling stories about you confiding in him that General Mustang has been hitting you these last few months," Walter said calmly.

"WHAT?! HOW WOULD ANYONE BELIEVE THAT CRAP?!"

"The problem is, Ed, that even though many would believe it to be crap, Freeman outranks General Mustang, which means that his testimony weighs more. And without your body, there really isn't a way to disprove the claims of physical abuse. They have more than enough to arrest the General. Apparently the knife identified to have been used to cut your head off has been discovered to have his fingerprints on it."

"Those bastards! But Führer Grumman won't allow him to be killed!"

"No, but that's not necessarily what they want. With such juicy news, Ed, the press is going to dig up every piece of dirt they can find on the General, including Ishbal. With what the General has done, people will turn against him and nobody will take him seriously or allow him back in Ishbal. They'll be afraid that he's going to repeat his actions. Many will probably see him as a deranged killer, especially with the military itself fuelling the rumours," Greg said.

"So we're bringing them here? When? What can I do?"

"You're going to stay here. The rest of us are going to fetch the General and your brother as soon as the rest returns and we're sure that the coast is clear."

"You can't just expect me to wait!"

"No, I'm forcing you to."

"What?"

Greg and Walter suddenly jumped at him and had soon handcuffed him to the radiator. "HEY! KICKS TO THE GROIN ISN'T PLAYING FAIR!" Ed shouted, his private areas screaming as loud as he did himself.

"Edward, I'm sorry, but this is how it's going to be. We can't have you wandering off on your own right now."

"If you guys end up hurting them, I'll kick you with my left foot," Ed said threateningly.

"Trust me, Ed, we'll get them here unharmed."

Ed just grunted, still annoyed about the current seating arrangements.

Being unable to help as the others prepared for departure with wigs, contacts and even beards, left Ed feeling anxious. What if something went wrong? What if they got discovered? Something could go very badly and Ed could end up never seeing Al and Mustang ever again.

"We'll be back in about two hours, Ed," Greg said as they left.

Ed was a whirlwind of emotions. He had so much going through his mind. He would get to be alive again, sort of, but Mustang and and Al would become fugitives as a cost. But he would het to talk to them, hug them. Be a family. It was the first piece of good news Ed had got for the hardest week of his life.

And he couldn't wait.

And so the next two hours were the longest he'd ever experienced. They were filled with what ifs and nervousness that things hadn't gone according to plan.

Then finally, finally, the door opened and Ezra and Greg were carrying Mustang between them, followed by Walter, Harold and Angela carrying Al. They moved to put them on the camp beds. "Al's getting the couch," Ed said, glaring at them.

They didn't dare disobey him. Ed watched as they lay down the two unconscious bodies.

"NOW GREG, YOU'RE GETTING ME THE HELL OUT OF THESE HANDCUFFS!"

Ed watched as Mustang opened his eyes slowly, obviously dazed. The others had left to go to work in order not to raise suspicion, trusting Ed to tell Mustang and Al about what's been going on.

The General suddenly sat bolt upright, staring at Ed, before he jumped forwards and pinned Ed to the ground, choking him. "What did you do to Alphonse?!"

"He's fine." Ed croaked, using his eyes to indicate that he should look over at the couch. "Please let me breathe, General. I'll explain everything," Ed hated that the hold on his throat was so tight that he didn't really sound like himself. Besides, the man was sitting heavily on Ed's chest, restricting even more of his intake of air. Ed was freaked out by the hateful look that Mustang was giving him. He wanted to hurt Ed.

"What's going on?! You were at Ed's funeral!" The man pressed his knee further down on Ed's chest, making breathing even more difficult. Mustang probably thought that Ed was with the people that "killed" him.

Ed was getting a bit panicky, Mustang was furious and Ed realised just how much hate that had built up in him for the last week. He said the only thing he could think of as his lungs screamed for air. "Please, Dad!"

Mustang froze.

Then.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" Ed felt a fist collide with his jaw.

"Please, it's Ed!" Ed wheezed. "I'm not dead!" Ed stared at him, trying to make him see past the disguise.

The hold on his neck loosened slightly and Ed breathed in some much needed Oxygen. "HOW THE HELL CAN YOU BE HIM?! I SAW HIS HEAD!"

"They shaved my hair off!" Ed said exasperatedly. His mind wasn't working properly, too many emotions were flying through his mind at the same time. "I've got coloured contacts."

Mustang removed the hand on his throat and pulled the wig off. Instead of moving off his chest, Mustang looked at him with a kind of manic urgency and ripped open the top of his shirt to reveal the scars from his automail.

He leapt off of Ed and pulled him into a sitting position as Ed coughed. "Take the contacts off."

Ed did as he was told and Mustang just stared at him. Refusing to let his hopes rise only to have them crushed again, the man continued his interrogation. "Tell me something only my Ed would know."

"The first time we met, you pulled me up from the wheelchair by the front of my sweater and yelled at me," Ed said, reminded of the situation.

The next second he was being pulled into a big, desperate hug that he was more than happy to return.