Title: Rain
Author: AkizukiSakura
Pairing(s): Roy/Ed
Spoilers/Warnings: As far as I know, the spoilers are minimal. This diverges from both the manga and the anime, and I wouldn't be surprised if I get some facts wrong anyway (like the ages they were when each major event occurred). Also, this is YAOI. Don't like it, don't read it. Period.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I make no monetary profit from the writing and posting of this, or any, fanfiction.
Notes: While I have the facts straight, I don't actually have the plot pinned down to a linear format yet. So for now, I'm letting the characters write the story. It should prove interesting, at least.
Dedication: Normally I don't really do dedications, but I'll make an exception. This chapter is dedicated to drkphoenyx for being an amazing, devoted reviewer and a genuine friend, as well as to Taranova, whose review made me feel like someone who could be proud of her work. This chapter is for you two.

I promise, even though this chapter seems like it's 'The Saffron Soul' all over again, it isn't. Just bear with me. You'll see.

Many, many thanks to proser132 for taking the time to edit this for content and flow. Very talented writer and beta. Now, on to the story!

Chapter Four: In Which There is a Rescue… Sort of

This situation was the very epitome of bad. Ed was sure he'd had worse things happen to him in his time in the military, but for some reason his usually sharp memory was drawing a blank. It was probably a side effect of the drug. He studiously ignored the fact that he had no trouble remembering anything else; he could still recite the Periodic Table, for example. Ed was never one to admit to how bad the situations he often found himself thrust into could be. If he was like that he'd never have fixed Alphonse.

To add further insult, he was being transported to a different area in the house in the most humiliating way he could imagine: he was being cradled like a bride carried over the threshold by her new husband. Had his body not been unnaturally relaxed due to the drug, Ed might have shuddered at the analogy. For one thing, he wasn't a fucking girl. For another, Dmitri had suggested he was interested in Ed for more than just the connection to Xerxes, and Ed wasn't particularly keen on discovering how true his instincts were.

He grunted softly as Dmitri jostled him a little and ignored the man's murmur of apology as he was shifted to rest more comfortably in his captor's arms. Forcibly, Ed thrust his revulsion and worry away, focusing instead on Dmitri's motives. The man wanted unlimited power and immortality. All right. That was a common desire among humans, though most of them lacked any real method of obtaining said power and longevity. Many people were afraid of death, and being all-powerful meant that immortal life was guaranteed to be pleasant. Unfortunately for Ed, Dmitri seemed utterly convinced that he had found a way, and his logic actually made sense – if Ed wanted to believe that time travel was possible.

Normally Ed could have cared less, because most of the crackpots who came up with these theories ended up dead when their fanciful transmutations backfired. However, this time he was going to be the one in the middle of the array and, while he doubted he was going to live to a ripe old age anyway, he certainly would prefer to die doing something he'd chosen to do rather than being forced into it. At the very least, why couldn't this have happened on a mission like it usually did? Ed felt bad enough that he'd let himself become complacent. Did the man have to rub it in by capturing him on his way to work?

The light was getting better even as the air was getting mustier and the air turned damp. Despite the fact that they had not descended any stairs, Ed suspected they had gone underground. True, his vision was hazy – and the flickering of the lamps was not helping – but he was completely certain they were moving downward. It made sense, he supposed. Dmitri needed a large space to draw his circle and practice his alchemy without drawing any attention, thanks to the stupid Fuhrer's new law. The best place would be a cellar of some sort, though why it had taken so long to reach it was beyond Ed's temporarily limited comprehension.

It was only when Dmitri set him gently down on a surprisingly comfortable armchair and moved away that Ed got his first real look at the room. He couldn't turn his head at all and only the pillows he was propped against held him upright, so his view was limited, but he could see the broad, sweeping lines of two arrays inked on a concrete floor. Thanks to the drug, all he could make out was the overall size and shape of the arrays; the symbols were nothing more than black splotches to him at this point. From what he could see of the arrays, though, he could tell that they were nothing like the one that had been carved onto the little girl, further proof that the array he'd been attempting to pick apart had been a dud after all. More than likely it had been the lure Dmitri needed to scoop up Ed from right under the military's nose.

Dwelling on how easily the man's plan had worked would get him nowhere. Instead he turned back to trying to examine the new circles. He judged the larger array to be about fifteen feet across and the smaller to be perhaps ten feet across. Despite his poor vision, Ed knew what the arrays were for thanks to Dmitri's oh-so-helpful exposition. The larger array would be the one for travelling through time, which meant the other array was for 'bonding', whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

"After all, I can't have my beautiful pet trying to escape me, can I? And I can't have you attacking me. This will ensure that you cannot do either."

Ed turned the statement over in his mind, though it felt like his mind was churning concrete with the effort to think. An array to limit the distance he could travel from Dmitri, perhaps? And one to limit how close he could get? That couldn't be right. The second part of Ed's theory would mean that Dmitri would be unable to touch him either and, from the way the man had kissed him earlier, Ed sincerely doubted that was the case. Plus, thanks to his alchemy, Ed didn't need to be near Dmitri to attack him. He didn't even need to draw a circle, which gave Dmitri that much less time to counter anything Ed threw at him.

The inability to scowl was irritating. Ed didn't have much time before Dmitri did whatever it was he was trying to do and not only had he failed to come up with a counter array, due mostly in part to the fact that the other man was utterly insane and his arrays were likely to reflect that, but he still couldn't move. Even his automail was unresponsive, suggesting that the drug specifically targeted his nerves. More proof that Dmitri had been concocting this whole scheme with Ed as the explicit objective.

An arm curled under his knees, the other supporting his back, and goddammit it he was being held like a woman again! From the way Dmitri stepped nimbly over the inked lines of the first array, he was clearly ready to begin. Ed wished he could scowl his displeasure at the man as Dmitri set Ed down on the bare patch in the center of the array. Dmitri lingered long enough to push Ed's bangs out of his eyes before he vanished from Ed's limited sight. Furious, Ed tried to move anything at all and found to his dismay that he was still utterly helpless.

"It won't be long now, Edward," Dmitri said from somewhere off to his right. Ed could tell the man had meant his words to be soothing, but if anything they only frustrated the blonde further. How the fuck was this happening to him? Everything he'd been through and he couldn't fight one delusional alchemist? If there really was a god, this must be his idea of a joke. That or irony.

Ed felt the crackle of alchemy heat the air above and around him, saw blue lightning arcing over the circle that surrounded him, and closed his eyes.

Well, fuck.

If pressed to describe how the transmutation felt, Ed would say that it was like being tickled mercilessly. At first it was just uncomfortable, like the graze of a feather over his bare skin, but the sensation built upon itself. That single feather became hundreds, each amplified by tenfold. For a moment he was glad he couldn't make any sort of sound because, as the feelings intensified, they bordered upon painful before slipping gradually into excruciating. It wasn't the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life, but damn if it didn't still hurt!

After what seemed like an eternity, the light from the array faded from Ed's vision, though he was still half-blinded by the radiance and his ability to blink was severely hampered by the drug still coursing relentlessly through him. When his vision did finally clear enough for him to see, albeit with spots blinking across his sight, he found himself staring up at the same earthen ceiling as before. His mind clamored for answers. Wasn't it supposed to be time travel or some such nonsense? For a split second he dared to hope the array hadn't worked.

A moment later reality crashed down on him again as he remembered: There had been two arrays. One for the time travel and the one he was lying in right now. This one was supposed to bind him somehow. He didn't feel any differently than usual, aside from the drug. Did that mean it hadn't worked after all? Could he possibly be that lucky? Ed doubted it. Experience had taught him that if luck was required in a situation then he was doomed to failure – even playing poker with Al served to remind him of that. Dmitri's words only cemented his gloom.

"Perfect," purred Dmitri, and though Ed strove to turn his head to see the man all he could manage was a sort of halfhearted blink and the barest twitch of his fingers. Footsteps echoed in the room as Dmitri came over to kneel beside him. Despite his best efforts to glare at the man his facial muscles were no more obedient than his arm or leg muscles had been. He was forced to lie there, completely lax, as Dmitri examined him.

Fingers trailed over his bare upper arm, skimmed neatly up his neck to check his pulse, and came to rest on his face, lightly cupping his cheek in a way that could only be described as 'lovingly'. Ed felt sick.

"No doubt you are wondering, since you cannot ask. Never let it be said that I am a bad master," Dmitri mused calmly, leaning over so he could see Ed's eyes. "It is likely you do not feel any different. You are not meant to, and you will not know the extent of what I have done until the drug wears off."

Ed felt the hand leave his cheek to smooth his bangs and neaten his ponytail before Dmitri gathered his unresponsive form up and walked calmly across the room, setting Ed down in the center of the second transmutation circle. Confusion made its way to the forefront of Ed's mind. The second array was for the time travel, which Dmitri had said he only needed blood for. So then why…?

"It would seem that we have guests," Dmitri said softly, almost as though he'd read Ed's thoughts. That idea was utterly disturbing on more levels than Ed cared to count. "It takes longer to activate my array with blood. I would have preferred to use your blood for a test run, rather than risk losing you, but I believe it would be best if we left before our uninvited guests arrive."

Once again Ed was settled gently in the center of an array. This time Dmitri's parting gift was a surprisingly gentle kiss. It was completely chaste but Ed felt no less violated now than he had when the man had full-on kissed him earlier. "I will see you on the other side," Dmitri whispered as he straightened, cast a final look at Ed, and made his way carefully out of the circle. This time Ed could see him in his peripheral vision and he watched as Dmitri pulled a glistening red stone from his pocket.

From what Ed could tell, the man knelt without an ounce of uncertainty and pressed his hands to the edge of the array. Power gathered at his hands, shifting quickly from the normal sapphire to a hellish crimson in the blind of an eye. Ed had enough time to gasp before a surge of energy crested above him, wavered, and then slammed down on him.

Roy climbed out of the car, too intent on the nondescript little houses lining the streets to remember to shut his door. He heard it close anyway, probably courtesy of Riza, and turned his attention to the men lounging in an adjacent alley, figures shadowed courtesy of the street lamps casting light over the cobblestones of the relatively new street. He glanced swiftly over them, cataloguing who was here. All of his team had made it, sans Falman, as had Hughes and Armstrong. Roy glanced quizzically at Riza, somewhat surprised that there were not more.

"I chose only those who could be trusted, sir," she answered softly to his unspoken question about the small group. "I did consider the military police, but whenever an Elric is mixed with alchemy, things get…complicated."

Roy frowned faintly. Hawkeye was right, of course. They were all so used to covering for Ed and Al's past that it must have been second nature to choose only the people who could be relied upon. It didn't soothe his feelings at all, and his uneasiness nearly tripled when he spotted a familiar mop of sandy blonde hair lingering near the back of the group. Alphonse gave him a mulish, stubborn look, his bronze eyes daring Roy to try to order him home.

One of the first things he'd been taught at the Academy was: Don't give an order if you don't think it will be followed. A sigh feathered from his lips. Ed would kill him for letting Al tag along, but Al would find a creative, painful way to get his revenge if he tried to force the younger man to leave. He allowed himself only a shake of the head in Alphonse's direction to let the young man know he didn't approve. Al's only response was a challenging tilt of his head.

Elrics, Roy thought tiredly. Obstinate, the lot of them. Al was more levelheaded than his older brother, and a hell of a lot politer, but when it came to his older brother he displayed a stubborn streak that rivaled Ed's. "What do we know about the house?" Roy asked instead once they were all tucked securely out of sight in the alley, choosing to fight the battles he could actually win.

Breda produced a copy of the blueprints, likely taken from the archives. "It's a new construction," the portly man informed Roy, unfolding the large packet of papers and pointing to the year recorded on the top left as proof. "Built just over a year ago, two floors. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, living room, kitchen, dining room," he added, pointing to each room in turn. He passed the designs to Roy, who examined them with a frown.

"Alphonse," Roy said finally, beckoning the younger alchemist to his side. Al padded quietly over to peer at the drawings Roy held out. "In your experience, how large does an array need to be for a neighbor sitting two houses away on the left to be able to see the light of the reaction?"

Al blinked up at the General and then down at the blueprints, understanding lighting his features. "It would have to be several feet across at least, sir, with enough room for the alchemist to maneuver around it," he said quietly, studying the lines intently. "From the layout of this house, I'd guess that it would have been activated in the kitchen or the downstairs bedroom. The bathroom isn't large enough and the living and dining rooms are on the opposite side of our informant's house." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "If I knew what the kidnapper was trying to do with Brother, I'd be able to give you a better estimate on the size of the array, but…"

Roy could hear the frustration in Al's voice and, for a moment, he wavered. These boys had been through so much already. Was it really too much to ask that they could just be left alone? Even as he thought it, though, Roy knew it was impossible. The Elrics were entirely too intelligent to just fade into anonymity. The world would always be after them, for one reason or another, and the realization saddened him. "That's quite all right, Alphonse," he said finally, pushing the emotion aside. What mattered right now was finding Edward. "For now, we should – Alphonse?"

Al had gone rigid, his gaze wide as he darted to the alley entrance to peer around the corner. He didn't appear to hear Roy's continued attempts to find out what was wrong until Roy grabbed his shoulder and spun him, forcing the blonde to meet his eyes. "Someone's doing alchemy nearby," Al said finally when he finally seemed to understand Roy's questions, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really, really strong alchemy. How can you not feel that?" he snapped at Roy.

"Just because I'm an alchemist doesn't mean I can feel an array going off," Roy replied just as shortly, watching Al closely. The youth looked shaken and the color faded from his complexion at a rate that alarmed Roy. "Have you always been able to do this, Alphonse? Feel alchemy nearby?" That blonde head nodded slowly. "And Edward?" Another nod.

"I thought it was just an alchemist thing," Al said timidly, wincing faintly. Roy realized his fingers were probably leaving marks on Al's shoulder and he hastily let go, fingers curling into a fist before he forced them to relax.

Roy ran a hand through his hair, annoyed. "We don't have time to discuss this right now. Can you tell where it's coming from?" The expression on Al's face told Roy everything he needed to know. An array had been set off in the house they were watching, yet despite that knowledge Roy could see no light other than that of the street lamps. He cursed under his breath and turned back to his men. "Armstrong and Breda, take the back door. Havoc, cover them at sniping distance. Alphonse and I will take the front door, with Hawkeye covering at sniping distance." He paused, glancing at Fuery. The small man wasn't the best to have in a firefight, but he was invaluable when it came to electronics. Even so, Roy didn't want to leave him alone.

"I'll stay with Kain," Hughes said quietly, having obviously noticed his friend's, dilemma, and earning a quick, relieved smile from Roy. Hughes never did like guns and with a bullet still lodged in his chest he wasn't the best person to conduct a raid with, either. As protection for the smaller man, however, he was perfect. There were very few who even held a candle to Maes' skills of observation.

Roy turned back to the smaller man. "Fuery, man the radios and monitor what's being broadcast on each frequency. Also, see if you can get into a telephone line and secure it. If everything goes to hell, get the police here and call General Cromwell." Lieutenant General Cromwell was Roy's direct superior and one of his most dependable supporters. The man, who was almost sixty, was also a decent alchemist, though he was not certified; mostly because he dealt more in theory than in practical applications. Fuery murmured his acknowledgment as Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, and Armstrong hurried quietly away.

Before Al could follow them, Roy grabbed his shoulder. "I don't want to have to give Fullmetal any bad news when we find him," Roy said quietly, meeting Al's expression squarely. Al took a breath, probably to say something along the lines of I can take care of myself but Roy shook his head before the younger man could speak. "I mean it, Alphonse. Whatever else happens, take care of yourself first." Only when Al nodded grudgingly did Roy let him go. They slipped out of the alley together to cautiously approach the building.

As Roy kept watch, Al clapped his hands quietly together and pressed them lightly against the door. Soft light shone under his palms and rippled outward, though the reaction light was noticeably dim. After several moments he brushed his hand through his short hair and reached out, turning the doorknob and lightly pushing the door open, ignoring the sound of caution Roy made. "If there were any traps, I disabled them," Al said softly. "The door was already unlocked."

Roy wondered about that. This neighborhood, while not exactly unsafe, was not considered harmless. It wasn't the slums, but, despite its relative newness, it wasn't much safer than the darker areas of Central could be. Anyone with sense locked their door, even those on the wealthier side of the city, unless they didn't have anything valuable to steal or they just didn't care. Considering how well the kidnapper had gone to ground after taking Fullmetal, Roy doubted it was the latter. He froze when Al held out a hand, eyes closed and head cocked to one side.

"…The others are inside," he whispered finally, so soft that Roy had to strain to hear him. "I can hear Armstrong and Breda walking through the kitchen, but nothing else." Roy glanced at Al in silent awe. All those years in a suit of armor seemed to have done wonders for his sensory skills. The appreciation was short-lived, however, as a quick search of the house revealed that it was empty.

Breda clicked on a flashlight once they'd ascertained that the small house was vacant. Dmitri was not at work; Falman was at the Gilded Lily right now to watch for him. If Dmitri had come in to work, they'd have heard about it on the radio broadcasts – which was one of the reasons Roy had Fuery monitoring them.

There were signs that the house had been occupied until recently, though, and the downstairs bedroom had been decorated oddly: The room was Spartan and entirely white, from the drapes on the windows to the sheets on the bed. Al had noticed the marks of chains on the bedposts and Roy had found the most telling evidence of all – three long strands of golden blonde hair in the tangle of sheets.

"If they aren't here now, they were until recently. The dishes in the sink have food on them that's still good," Breda said grimly, examining the living room with his flashlight, noting the fresh ash that still littered the fireplace. Roy stood near the doorway, arms folded and expression calculating; Breda couldn't even be sure his superior had heard him. Alphonse was in the white bedroom, still looking for some kind of clue as to where his brother might be now, and Armstrong was staring at the impressive bookshelves with a frown on his usually genial features. It was Al, coming back into the room after a fruitless search, who noticed Armstrong's strange expression.

"Is something wrong, Major?" he asked politely, pulling Roy from his thoughts with an almost audible snap. Both he and Breda gave Armstrong a questioning look.

"This house is not nearly as splendid as my home," Armstrong rumbled, "and the décor and value of this place suggests that our culprit is not wealthy. However…" He fell silent again, mustache quivering. "These bookcases… I recognize the manufacturer. The exquisite craft has been passed down the Marshal line for generations, much like my artistic ability. Kimberly Marshal has designed several pieces for my home, and they are quite expensive."

Breda scratched his head and came forward, illuminating the bookcase with his flashlight. "And that means…?" he asked, glancing the long way up to see Armstrong's face. The man's lips were pursed and his blue eyes narrowed as he stared at the well-crafted wooden shelves. Without a word he reached down, covered the light from Breda's flashlight with one hand, and extended the other to pull a book outward. To everyone's surprise, the book would not leave the shelf. Armstrong grasped the edge of the bookshelf and began to tug, muscles bunching under his jacket with the effort.

After several tense moments of nothing happening, the bookcase slid outward to reveal a plain wooden door behind it. "It means," he said in a very satisfied tine, "that there is more to this house that we are not seeing," Armstrong replied finally. "It would be best to leave the flashlight off once we open the door. It would not bode well for us should the light give away our presence."

Roy stared at the newly revealed door in utter shock. Al quietly thanked the major and Breda examined the bookcase with renewed interest, revealing that there were oiled hinges fastened on the back of the shelf. Even with the hinges, however, the sheer amount of books on the shelf made it extraordinarily heavy, as Roy found when he moved over to conduct his own investigation. Apparently Miss Marshal's family specialized in furniture with secrets. He would have to look into the family's work later. There was no telling how many criminals they'd lost to tricks like this.

"Major Armstrong," Roy said finally, interrupting the quiet conversation between the big man and Alphonse. "Wait here. If anyone enters the house, detain them," he ordered. "Breda, go to Hughes. Tell him we've found something and stay with him. If anyone suspicious tries to enter the house, you have the same orders as Armstrong." He glanced at Al, taking in the younger man's folded arms and flattened lips. Roy wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay put, but he knew there was no way Al would stay behind now. He turned back to Armstrong, nodding in response to Breda's salute as Second Lieutenant left.

"If we aren't back in twenty minutes, have Fuery call the military police and the General anyway. Alphonse, come with me, and remember what I told you earlier," he said finally. As Armstrong walked quietly across the room to get a better view of the kitchen and front door, Roy checked his gloves and glanced at Al. "Can you still feel alchemy?"

Al shook his head. "It faded while I was searching the white bedroom," he replied. "I came back to tell you, but the major…"

"We're going in blind, then," Roy acknowledged, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together idly. "Stay behind me, watch our backs, and keep as quiet as possible."

He barely waited for Al's reply before he reached out and pulled open the door.

The first thing Al noticed about the passageway was that it sloped gently downward, mostly because he accidentally kicked a small rock and it tumbled much further than it would have on flat ground with the force that had acted upon it. The passage was curved and sparsely lit, with just enough lanterns placed in small alcoves to light the next steps ahead. The passage more of a tunnel than anything, held up with sturdy wooden beams and the earth under their feet packed tightly from being tread upon often.

It definitely wasn't what he was expecting to see. Al could remember the basement of his old home – the smell of earth, a little wet, but well lit. His father's experiments always bubbled away in glass tubes and bottles, and paraphernalia littered dusty shelves. The basement had been about the size of the house and only just tall enough that Hohenhiem could walk around without bashing his head on the beams.

This passage had already led them several meters under the house; though, it had yet to do anything but sprawl onward in neatly carved turns. On the plus side there was no way they could get lost, and the decline, while noticeable, was not too steep. They would be able to run back up without tiring as easily as they might have with typical stairs.

Almost five minutes after they began their descent, however, the feel of alchemy began to build anew. Al caught Roy's sleeve and the General stopped instantly, turning. Dark eyes scanned the tunnel behind them automatically before resting questioningly on Al.

"Energy's being gathered to activate an array again," Al said urgently. "It's definitely below us, and it feels a lot closer than it did before. I don't think we have far to go, but I don't think we have long before the transmutation begins." To Al's immense relief Roy immediately started walking again, his pace noticeably quicker than it had been. As they hastened downward, Al noticed that the lamps became a little bit brighter and were spaced a little closer together, illuminating the walls and floor better.

A shiver crept over Al as he noticed the darker splotches on the floor. Pretending would do no good. He could tell the spots were where blood had soaked into the dirt and he could only hope the blood was not his brother's. Ed had been healthy enough the day he'd gone missing but he wasn't the type to go quietly. It was entirely possible and highly probable that he'd been injured when he was taken.

Ed was still alive. Al felt it deep inside; for now his brother was all right, but time was running out, as usual. It seemed that time was always against them.

It was when they could finally see the end of the tunnel that Al stumbled into Roy. The General turned a little, catching Al as he stumbled again and holding him steady. Before he could ask if Al was all right, Al gasped in a sharp breath. He didn't even have time to explain before alchemical power exploded outward, wiping his thoughts from his head and making his senses go haywire. Red light edged with white screamed through the room ahead of them, shaking the tunnel and sending dust cascading down over Al and the General.

Without waiting for it to stabilize, Al stumbled onward, forcing his legs into a sprint despite the tremors that kept throwing him into the walls. He ignored the General's footsteps behind him as the man tried to catch up. Normal alchemy shone blue and a backlash shimmered a sinister, black-edged red. This shade of crimson could only be produced by a Philosopher's Stone.

As he forced himself onward, Al thought with utter certainty, We were too late.

How very like an Elric to completely ignore my orders, Roy thought as he struggled after Alphonse. The part of him trained to think in situations like this was disgruntled with Al's headlong rush into danger. The part of him that had watched Edward grow from a lovely child into a beautiful young man wailed at his encumbered pace, wanting to get to Ed, now, damn it.

It took more effort than he would have liked to admit to suppress the urge to quicken his pace. He winced when Al slammed into a wall for the third time, knowing the young man was going to end up with bruises at the very least.

"Brother!" Al's shout rocketed through Roy with more force than he'd thought possible, and the terrified note in the younger Elric's voice was enough to spur Roy the last few steps out of the tunnel. He emerged in a room that was at least two hundred square feet in size. His eyes skipped over the tables lining the edges of the room, all covered with books, papers, and flasks. He noted these details in a split second before his attention was drawn to the array, the man kneeling next to it and, just visible through the maelstrom of alchemical energy, Ed.

Roy's heart went tight with fear and fury hardened his face. He raised his hand, fingers poised to click and rational thought gone. Only the sudden grip on his wrist kept him from unleashing his anger as red-hot flames. He turned his glare on Alphonse, who looked upset but sure.

"Don't! There's so much energy in here right now that if you add to it you could kill all of us, including brother." Only the helpless look on Al's youthful features kept Roy from snapping anyway and to hell with the consequences. He relaxed his fingers and Al let him go. "We can't even do anything about him," Al said furiously, jerking his chin at Dmitri Ivanov. "If he loses concentration right now…" Al shuddered. "I don't even want to think about what would happen."

Roy got Al's message loud and clear. They could only wait until the transmutation was complete and hope that whatever this was left Ed alive at the end.

It hurt. It felt as though electricity sang discordantly through every single one of Ed's nerves. It was like the pain of having his automail reattached, amplified by at least a hundred. It was pain in a way Ed had never imagined he could feel, the sensation breaking through the drug. Earlier Ed had thought if he could go his whole life without ever having to deal with the paralyzing drug again he'd be happy. Now he was honestly reconsidering that sentiment.

He was blind to anything that wasn't pearl-edged crimson and deaf to all but the howling of the transmutation activating around him, fueled by the Philosopher's Stone. In a way he was glad it was all he could see and hear – any other sensory inputs would have been too much right now. Just the feeling of smooth concrete under his back was enough to add to his pain, and even the feathery feel of his hair on his brow was excruciating.

Beyond the pain, deep within his alchemical core, something uncurled and stretched languidly, almost catlike, before reaching out to that crimson lightning as if Ed was a metal rod to ground the power. Alchemy rocked through him, forcing his back into an arch and tearing a scream from deep within, something animalistic and terrified.

This was worse than the feeling of having his arm and leg taken by the Gate.

Darkness, edged in bright cerise light, began to form in his mind. It was contained in dark grey, intricately carved stone and for a split second of terrifying proportions Ed thought the Gate was going to materialize. Three times was plenty in a person's life to deal with that monstrosity.

To his relief, it wasn't the gate that took shape, but it was definitely a portal of some sort. Even better, the pain was finally receding, though it was still very much present, but this was more on the level of his automail; painful, but manageable.

Surprised that he actually could now, Edward sat up slowly, muscles aching with every tiny movement he made. He was still underground. The tables, laden with laboratory equipment and research notes, were scorched but otherwise unharmed. The arrays on the floor were gone, wiped out by the power of the alchemy, and Dmitri was still kneeling on the floor, ashen but alive. If not for the victorious light shining in his eyes Ed would have thought the transmutation had failed.

Instead, Dmitri was staring behind Ed with a look of utter awe on his face. For the first time Ed noticed who their visitors were. Al and Mustang were here, and Ed felt his lips twist into a scowl. Why the fuck had Mustang let Al come with him? Ed was going to beat the shit out of the General when this was all over!

No sooner had he promised himself that Mustang was due a beating than he noticed the shock on the General's face morph to horror. Before Ed could turn to see what was so terrifying, red tendrils wrapped around his waist, legs, and arms and began to drag him backwards. He glanced over his shoulder and realized quite abruptly that, no, the transmutation had definitely not failed because he was staring at the stone-bordered portal he'd seen just before the array had died down. Immediately he began to struggle against the gate that had him in its clutches.

Dmitri got to his feet, drawing Roy's attention, and slipped what remained of the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket. "It seems my theory was sound," the man murmured. He walked towards Ed, his gaze fastened on the gate. It was clear that he was intending to follow Ed into the portal.

Al's exclamation of surprise made Dmitri pause and turn just as Roy sprinted past him. The man's expression of triumph shifted rapidly to one of shocked anger as Roy reached for Ed, then yelled in surprise when red tendrils shot out to grab him, too.

"No!" Dmitri shouted, but it was too late. The portal dragged Ed and Roy through, blazed several different shades of red, and vanished as though it had never been, leaving a furious Dmitri and a shattered Alphonse to stare in disbelief at where Ed had been only moments earlier.

Heat, blistering and brutal, brought Roy back to consciousness. He sat up with a groan as what felt like every muscle in his body clamored for his attention, each shouting that they hurt worse than the other and throbbing to prove it. He squinted in the harsh sunlight, trying to remember what had happened. The last thing he could recall doing was trying to find Fullmetal. He and Alphonse had followed the tunnel down…

Recollection slammed into him and he shot to his feet as though he'd been electrocuted, glancing around at his surroundings without really seeing them, searching desperately for Edward. A flash of gold a few meters away drew his attention and he stumbled over to it. Finding that it was indeed Fullmetal, Roy dropped to his knees next to his unconscious subordinate, pressing his fingers to the pulse on the blonde's neck. A moment later he breathed a sigh of relief. The pulse was a little irregular but it was there, strong as ever.

However, the younger man was giving no signs of waking up any time soon. In this heat, that could be a problem, particularly on Ed's uncovered automail. Roy glared up at the sun. Despite the incessant heat, Roy could tell that his skin had not yet burned. Since he typically burned in even mild heat within an hour, he could guess they had not been out here for long. He glanced down at Edward again, noting the younger man's exposed arms and feet. Perhaps they hadn't been out long but there was no guarantee they would be able to escape the harsh sunlight unfazed. Roy shrugged out of his heavy military jacket and covered Ed with it. Though the jacket was designed to fall to Roy's navel it covered significantly more of Edward.

The jacket was the winter one, made of wool rather than cotton, and it would make Ed sweat in the heat, but for the moment it was better than leaving Fullmetal out in the sun. With that taken care of, Roy got to his feet, shading his eyes to look around. As far as he could see there was nothing but sand and, for one horrible moment Roy could recall Ishval. His free hand tightened into a fist with the effort of pushing away the horrid memories. He didn't have the time or the energy to waste on reliving the past. If he didn't do something soon, he and Ed could very well die out here.

Scanning the horizon again, slowly, he froze, eyes narrowing. There in the distance was a darker line just visible through the waves of heat coming off the sand. He didn't know what it was exactly, but it had to be better than lying out in the sun. The problem, however, was getting there. He knew from experience that Edward was heavy because of the automail and right now he would be heavier still because he'd be dead weight. The question was, was he strong enough to lug Fullmetal all the way out there? Distances could look deceptively short in the desert.

A dry cough and a grumbled curse brought his attention back to Edward who was, thank god, waking up. The blonde stared at the jacket covering him like it was a foreign object and then rolled onto his side. To Roy's surprise Ed's movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, not at all like his usual grace. "Are you all right?" he asked finally, a little surprised when Ed turned very slowly to look at him. The blonde's expression was twisted into a grimace.

"Feel like I've been hit by a goddamn train and my vision's all spotty, but otherwise I'm peachy fucking keen," Ed growled back at him. Despite the coarse words, however, Ed's tone lacked the bite it usually did.

Concerned, Roy knelt and gripped the blonde's chin firmly, turning Ed's face toward him. Ignoring Ed's irritated look, he conducted a brief field exam. Falman had more medical training than most of Roy's team, but Roy still knew the basics from Ishval. He frowned as he mentally diagnosed his young subordinate: Ed's breathing was irregular and a little slow. His pupils were dilated despite the harsh sunlight and his reaction time was much slower than usual. It looked like he'd been poisoned. On top of that, his lips were too dry even for this heat, so he might be a little dehydrated as well.

Roy blinked when Ed pushed his hand away.

"Bastard drugged me," the blonde muttered. "Not sure what it was, just that it was paralytic in nature. S'only just wearing off." Studiously disregarding Roy's frown, Ed climbed shakily to his feet. For a moment it looked like he was going to fall over again but the tightening of his lips suggested he stayed upright through sheer will. Like Roy had, Ed shielded his eyes to scan their surroundings, but a moment later he made a disgusted sound.

"You can't see very well right now, can you Fullmetal?" Roy asked almost conversationally as he got to his feet. He glanced at his jacket, looked at Ed, and calmly draped it around the younger alchemist's shoulders. To his surprise Ed didn't immediately shrug the jacket off. Ed didn't answer his question, but Roy didn't need him too. Roy doubted Ed could see more than a few meters in front of him with his eyes dilated like that, particularly in this bright light. It was a testament to Ed's willpower that his eyes were even open at all.

Ed grunted finally. "Can't see shit," he complained, closing his eyes briefly. "Too much fucking sunlight. Can you tell where we are?"

"Looks like a desert to me," Roy replied calmly, shading his eyes again. "Nothing but sand as far as I can see, though it looks like there's something northwest of our position."

Ed turned in the direction Roy had indicated and immediately started walking, his footsteps shaky. "Come on then, bastard," he called over his shoulder. "Not gonna do us any good to stand around like idiots. I can find water in the sand using my alchemy, but I can't do shit about food. Wherever that is, at least it gives us a fixed point to walk by until I can see again."

"What does you seeing have to do with it?" Roy asked, easily catching up to his flagging subordinate. Watching Ed struggle along, Roy hesitated, then slung Ed's flesh arm around his waist, steadying a hand against the metal shoulder. Even with the wool jacket Roy could feel the metal heating. It was a testament to just how tired Ed was that he didn't even offer a token complaint.

"I can guide us by the stars, moron," Ed replied snidely, shifting his arm more comfortably around Roy's waist. "If we try and travel during the day the sun'll bake us alive." He fell silent after that, obviously conserving his concentration on moving his legs. Though Ed acted tough, Roy could tell that the drug hadn't worn off completely. It was obviously a supreme effort just for Ed to walk. Talking would have probably been asking too much right now.

They came to a small oasis before reaching their original destination. By that time the sun was setting and Ed's eyes were doing better. The oasis was nothing special, just a small cluster of palm trees and a tiny spring, but the water was clear and the trees provided a bit of shade. Ed looked out over the sand, eyes narrowed against the sunlight and lips settled in a dark frown. Roy, who was just sitting down under the trees, voiced a questioning sound.

"Looks like a city of some sort," Ed reported slowly. "I can't make out any real detail, but it doesn't look like any of the cities in Amestris." He hesitated in the same way he did when he was trying to leave certain details out of his reports and Roy narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Spit it out, Fullmetal. What's bothering you?"

"Well… I've seen sketches of Xing, and I've heard about it from Ling… None of those match what I can see from this city. Xing doesn't have any cities this large bordering the desert, for one, and these buildings are made from sandstone or clay, not wood." Ed crossed his arms, clearly agitated about something. Before Roy could say anything, Ed added, very quietly, "I've only ever seen a city like this in that bastard's books."

Roy frowned at Edward. Fullmetal very rarely mentioned Van Hohenhiem, but when he did it was usually not coupled with good news. Case in point: Father and the Homunculi. "And that bothers you because…?" he drawled bitingly. To his surprise the look Edward sent him was almost uncertain rather than the bitter anger he expected. That expression on Ed's usually irritated features was enough to tell him that something could potentially be very, very wrong.

Ed drew a shaky breath. "It bothers me because I think… I think that's Xerxes."

Word Count: 7,550

AN: Man, this chapter took forever to write. Not because it was hard or anything (it was actually one of the easier ones), but because I kept getting distracted. First it was by a website with funny text messages that had been auto-corrected by an iPhone (one of the reasons I'll stick with my Bionic) that I read for several hours, then my daughter wanted to play (she's so cute, how can I say no? I'm a total Hughes. Seriously – I have a packet of photos in my purse). Then the hospital called to bug me because they had the wrong insurance information and were trying to make me pay money, and then my mom called…

Goodness. When I say this took a full day to write, I really mean it.

So. Not much to say about this chapter, which is ironic considering it's the chapter that defines Rain as its own story, as opposed to being similar in plot to other fiction. I hope everyone enjoys the path Rain has started to take.

I've got Drunken Promise and Lullaby for a Stormy Night ready to post, but I'm not going to just yet. I'm being selfish and waiting for more reviews for Retribution. Considering how many people have favorited it without leaving a review, I don't feel as bad as I suppose I should.

For anyone who is wondering, I don't foresee this story being very long – perhaps ten chapters at the most. I'm still a novice when it comes to writing chapter stories, so I can't write anything as massive as BeautifulFiction's The Saffron Soul or Proser's Supine and Cold. Sorry, I'm not that talented yet, and I'd rather write something short than risk leaving everyone on a four year hiatus.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and look forward to hearing from everyone! Your feedback really makes me happy, and it gives me a reason to sit down to write.

Finally, I would like to thank drkphoenyx and Taranova one final time. You two rock totally!

~AkizukiSakura