SeekerAstria - I am glad that you are truly enjoying the story. I find Mustanf and his people and the Ishbal story probably more interesting than the Elrics, at least story wise. Marz1 - Nope, Gracia and Elisa are perfectly safe back in Central. Barbara - Cliffhangers are good. ;) Thanks for still reading after the long pause. Reius Devirix - LOL I don't usually mean to leave readers in such terrible predicaments.

Thank you for the kind replies, I do appreciate them.

Heavy Burdens

"Sir," a timid sounding nurse said, stopping Hughes in the middle of one of the wide hospital corridors. Her voice, low as it seemed to echo off the painful sterility of it all. She glanced about nervously and Hughes noted she could not be more than eighteen or nineteen. "Visiting hours ended, well, hours ago. I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to leave until tomorrow."

He flashed her his trademark grin. "Sorry, but unless you plan on physically dragging me out, you'll just have to humor me for a little while." Straightening, he placed his right hand over his heart and held his left up. "I solemnly swear to be quiet and respectful of the late hour."

"But, sir—"

"No buts about it!" The light mood faded as a more serious one crept over his features. Adjusting his glasses slightly, he paused to look her over. He did not envy her spot, but she would just have to understand, some rules were made to be broken. Speaking in a more serious tone, he said, "I am a very determined and resourceful man. I have also suffered quite a few long days recently and I am tired and a bit ill-tempered. My friend is recovering here and I would like to see him before I pass out from exhaustion. Are we understanding each other?"

"But—"

"What did I say?" Hughes smiled. "If you must pull rank on me, call General Grumman, I'm sure he'll enjoy having his evening disrupted." He did not wait for her to respond, instead, he turned sharply and continued on toward the private rooms. The truth was, he did not want to make a scene, but if he had too, he would. He had been so busy with the investigation, the ongoing search and dealing with the Elrics that other than phone updates every few hours, he had not been in to check on Roy.

Though he had spent most of the night lightly dozing in a still, tall-backed wooden chair once Roy had been put in a private room but his friend had not awaken when he was forced to leave early to take care of things.

He seriously doubted that Roy would be awake at this hour, but he knew he had to check up on him. If the roles had been reversed, Roy would have stupidly dropped everything and been there for him.

Around the corner he spied Lt. Breda sitting on a bench. The red haired man leapt to his feet and snapped to attention with a sharp salute but Hughes did not slow, he just waved his hand, indicating he was not concerned with formality.

He smiled inwardly, feeling a little jealous of the loyalty of Roy's subordinates.

Only a short distance away, he found Falman standing ramrod straight, guarding a closed door.

"Sir," the Warrant Officer said softly as Hughes approached. "It's been quiet."

"Good." After only a slight hesitation to mentally brace himself, Hughes pushed the door open and stepped inside. Quickly closing the door behind him, he paused long enough to allow his eyes to adjust to the low lighting. The room was deceptively calm. After a moment, he could easily hear the steady inhale and exhale of breaths.

As he crossed the small room, he noted the large window that provided much of the light during the day but was only an obsidian mirror. Hughes grimaced at his own appearance.

He found the stool that was already pulled alongside the bed. Briefly wondering who had been perched there but he easily suspected who it had been. Lieutenant Hawkeye had taken the whole attack quite hard, even though he could see it was hardly a situation she could have helped.

Regardless of her former title, Odessa Rhodes was the devil incarnate. She might think herself innocent, a victim of circumstances, but he had read enough about her to know that was not entirely true. Hirada and his people would have been trouble at Medes, but they would not have been so completely overwhelming had it not been for her guidance. Same with the raids on the supply trains where dozens of soldiers were killed.

Perching on the stool, he just sat there quietly studying the not so relaxed features of his friend. Roy's brows were furrowed and his mouth tightened into a grimace.

"Do you need something for pain?" he asked.

"Not time yet," Roy answered but did not open his eyes to look at the other man. He sighed heavily but winced again as he raised his right hand and lightly pressed it to his chest. "Wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to breathe." His left arm, the deep cuts sewn together and bound laid at his side, resting above the covers pulled midway up his bare chest save for the bandages and wrappings that protected his wounded side and broken ribs.

Turning his gaze toward the window, Maes stared out for a time. It was almost completely dark except for a sliver of moon, hidden behind the cloud cover. "You damned fool," he growled.

"Tell me something I don't know," came a whisper.

Hughes could not help the grin that spread across his face. "You never listen. You're going to get yourself killed one of these days and then where would we be?" He leaned back on the stool. "You should have taken more security than Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"I wouldn't have taken her if I had a choice." He groaned softly and shifted uncomfortably.

The smile faded as a twinge of anger bit into him. "As I suspected." He wanted to punch his dear friend for his arrogance and stupidity. Instead, he calmly reached to his side and undid the holster, pulling the sidearm from it. He paused to study the weapon, which to be honest, he could not remember the last time he had fired it. He liked quieter things like his knives. Setting the pistol carefully on the side table, he stared at it a moment, then looked to his friend. "There are easier ways to kill yourself."

Roy frowned, opening his eyes slightly. The dark depths shifted to look at the gun on the table. "That was not my intent," he said darkly. Shifting his gaze up to the ceiling, he added, "But it is my mess." Mirthless laughter followed by a pained wince. His voice was soft. "How many dozen has she killed on her way here?" A beat. "How many hundreds died in Medes?"

"That was war."

"That excuse doesn't cut it." After a bit of drawn out silence, Roy laughed, but quickly grimaced, pressing a hand to his chest again. "If nothing else, these most recent deaths are my fault. I should have made sure she was dead."

"And how were you planning on that? By sifting through the ashes of Medes, trying to identify her from one charred skull to the next?" The deep sigh Roy gave bit. Hughes frowned. "The best military intelligence declared her dead."

"That's a contradiction in terms."

"Hey, I resemble that remark," came an offended reply as Hughes folded his arms across his chest and stared off toward the window. "The fact that anyone at all walked away from Medes alive is—"

"A miracle."

"Good leadership." He hunched back over, balancing himself on the stool. "Roy, it was a bad situation, I read the reports. Hell, it was a suicide mission Grand sent you on. They knew that Rhodes wasn't there alone. They knew a very organized, very pissed group of Ishbalan exiles were there. They knew what Hirada and his people were capable of." He met Roy's knowing look. "Human artillery, that's all. Grand didn't expect anyone to come back, let alone you dragging most of your people along. You must have pissed him off big time to get sent."

"Soham, he let all of his people die and still got promoted."

"Soham was an evil bastard and deserved to die," Hughes said softly.

"Careful."

"What? You agree with me." He adjusted his glasses slightly. "He's the one who rushed in, high for the glory of taking out the traitor. He ignored the warnings. You know it. I know it, and I wasn't even there."

"She's endangering my people," Roy whispered as his eyes drifted closed.

Soft laughter. He did not want to wake his friend. "Have a little faith in your people and don't take the burden all on yourself."

Where Sleeping Dogs of the Military Lie

The cavernous hospital corridors echoed loudly with Hughes' brisk footsteps. He knew if he had sat there too long on that hard little stool, he'd have fallen asleep and landed face first in Roy's broken ribs.

Then he would have ended up hospitalized, perhaps even in traction. Yeah, that would be real good.

Stealing out a side door, he planned to cut across the main lawn that was the center of Eastern Headquarters' main campus. It would get him to the archives where the Elrics were studying.

Roy would have his head if he knew that he had conscripted the brothers to help, but it was necessary. Yes, they were children and though he did not like it, he did not trust Rhodes to stop with just Roy. There were other non-officer deaths, other alchemists that had been killed. The boys had already faced her once and did not fair nearly as well as he would have wished. Had she not been intent on running away, it could have been worse.

There was no harm in educating them. It would be far worse to leave them blind and risk another confrontation. They were in the middle of it and he could not deny that fact.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the crisp night air. Jogging down the steps, he started across the parking lot. Almost instantly, the pricking of hairs on the back of his neck brought him to a wary stop. Turning slowly, he stared toward a pool of light from a streetlamp at the edge of the pavement. "So at last, we meet," he said coolly as he slipped one of the daggers from the hidden place in his uniform.

"The air around you is not so foul," Odessa Rhodes hissed from behind. "You are not an alchemist."

"Nope. That was never my thing." He turned with a grin. "I'm more of a paper pusher myself." Under the layers that made up Ishbalan clothing, he could see the bandages creeping up the side of her neck and down her arm. Roy did get her after all.

"Yet you are a dog of the military, you support these murderers."

Hughes nodded toward the hospital. "So are they. Are you going to kill them too?"

Her expression darkened. "Bastard!" she cried out as she dropped to the ground and pressed her tattooed palms to it. The ground exploded as shards of glass reached up from the ground, racing at the tall man.

Dodging the initial onslaught, Hughes lost his footing as the ground broke up around him. Shards ripped into his uniform and tore several deep gashes in his right thigh. As he stumbled out of balance, he launched the blade toward her.

With casual control of her alchemic powers, Rhodes created a shield that enveloped the blade before it could strike its target.

Reaching to his side, he fumbled for his sidearm but found the holster empty. "Damn," he hissed as he quickly changed course of thought and went for another knife.

Launching the blade, a picture of Gracia and Elicia slipped from a pocket and fell to the ground but he did not pause to retrieve it as he scrambled to his feet but was abruptly knocked down by a blow to his chest. Instinctively, he brought his hand up, pressing to his pained sternum, certain to find hole clear through him. The instant the initial panic fled and he realized he was fine, he found Rhodes standing nearby, the picture of his wife and child held in her hand.

Hughes' breaths came ragged and shallow, though he had not been stabbed, he was certain there was a cracked or broken rib among the pain that radiated through his torso. Now he and Roy could commiserate. He pressed a hand protectively in front as he waited his fate.

"They are beautiful," Rhodes said, holding the picture closely. "They should not suffer the pain of loss." Allowing the photo to fall from her hand, it floated in the breeze before catching on a jagged glass outcropping. "You should be more careful, Lt. Colonel and chose your friends more wisely." She turned to walk away but paused, looking back over her shoulder. "Tell your Colonel, I want him and will kill anyone that tries to get between us."

Hughes gripped his bleeding leg as he watched her walk away. He grabbed the last blade in his possession. "I can't let you do that!" Even as the blade left his hand, he knew it was a futile effort.

Rhodes reacted furiously, the blade thrown off track by an explosion of shards. He flinched away but instead of the pain of being torn apart, all he heard was the clang of glass breaking apart against metal.

Twisting, all he saw the large back of an armored body. "Al?"

"Stay back," the youthful voice warned.

"Rhodes!" Ed growled as he came flying out of the shadows. Energy erupted as he clapped his hands together and the earth twisted and formed up into a long spear.

The youth bound, stabbing down, determined to take her out.

With equal determination and swiftness, Rhodes reacted creating a wave of glass, shielding her from the attack. As Ed came down, he reached out, turning the glass into water that splashed down over her like a flood. She screamed and hit the ground.

Ed stabbed at her, determined to pin her to the ground but his eagerness to keep her alive was his weakness. Rhodes grabbed the spear and even as she moved, the wooden staff shattered into a thousand flower petals that blew in the breeze.

"I have no interest in you, boy!" she snarled as she retreated. Pedals blew across the pavement.

"Where is Nara and Emma?" Ed roared as he slammed his hands to the ground, creating a wall that blocked Rhodes's escape. "I know you took them." Rage boiled through his system mingling with guilt. It was because he and Al knew Nara that she and her daughter were kidnapped.

No one was going to get hurt because of him.

Rhodes fell against the wall Ed had created, exhaustion clinging to her features. "But she's so helpful, full of interesting information."

"You witch!" Ed roared as he lashed out but Rhodes was quicker. A column of glass ripped from the cement, slamming into Ed and sending him flying. "Stay out of my way, children," Rhodes warned before vanishing into the shadows.