Oh god, it hurt.

It felt like someone was driving freezing spikes of metal through his eye sockets and into his brain, the painful cold pounding across his brow and crawling down toward the base of his skull. He closed his eyes tightly against the light streaming in through the parted curtains on his window. Ugh. Had he been drinking? He rolled over in his bed with a groan and his stomach lurched unhappily. It certainly felt like he'd been drinking, but he couldn't remember. His mind was in a swirling fog of half-recalled visions and distorted words. He remembered light and he remembered a power coursing through him that was so intoxicating that it drowned out everything else. It sucked the air from his lungs and made his head spin so chaotically that he had almost... almost been able to block out the screaming.

...But who had been screaming?

Roy groped for memories clumsily from the depths of his exhaustion but they scurried away from him, teasing him, dancing just beyond his reach. After only a few moments though he lost interest and allowed himself to sink back down into the abyss of sleep. And he slept deeply—whether it was for five minutes or five hours, Roy couldn't say for sure—and he might have slept longer were it not for the bright, clinking noise that suddenly awoke him again.

Keys, he thought distantly, Someone's unlocking the front door...

He opened his eyes again and stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom blankly, disoriented. Night had fallen outside his window since the last time he'd awoken and the room was a little cold in spite of his heavy blanket. His poor head was still throbbing, but now, at least, he remembered why.

"Hey, Ed," a voice from out in the front room said amiably. Roy heard a door close. "Is he still asleep?"

Another voice replied to the first one, but its tone was too low to carry far enough for Roy to hear it. Gentle, hesitant footsteps sounded in the short hallway outside of Roy's half-open bedroom door and he rolled his heavy, head to the side. A shadow appeared in the doorway, tall and lean, his face obscured by darkness.

"You still alive, Roy?" Maes asked, his words only half in jest.

"...I think so..." Roy mumbled, wincing as he tried to raise his head a little, "Although... I think I'd rather not be..."

"God, you scared the hell out of me," Maes scolded, stepping into the room and seating himself familiarly on the edge of Roy's bed, "After you passed out I was about ready to call an ambulance until you started snoring..."

"I'm fine. That transmutation was just... it was too much for me. It happens," he mumbled, rubbing his face. He paused for a beat then looked up at Maes again groggily, "I don't snore."

"You snore."

"I do not," he insisted, attempting to push himself upright, "Help me up."

Maes unquestioningly slid his arm around Roy's shoulders and supported him as he sat up. The world rocked violently and Roy's stomach churned again in response. He moaned and covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to fight back his pain and nausea.

"...You gonna be sick?" Maes asked, running a comforting hand up and down Roy's back in a way that betrayed him as the father of a young child. It was always a little irritating to Roy when Maes got all paternal on him, but at the moment he was too preoccupied with keeping his stomach contents where they were to say anything about it. Instead he just shook his head and continued to breathe deeply until the nausea subsided a little.

"Gracia made some soup for you and Ed, if you want it," Maes began after a moment, tilting his head to the side.

"...I doubt I could keep it down at the moment, but thank her for me," Roy grated, pulling away from Maes and lowering his legs over the edge of the bed. "I feel like I have a hangover."

"You look like you have a hang over."

Roy laughed darkly. "Thanks."

Maes smiled worriedly, then reached over and pressed his hand to Roy's forehead, checking for a temperature. Roy shrugged him off quickly.

"I'm fine, Maes. Really. Go back out and keep Edward company; I'll be there in a minute," Roy told him dismissively, massaging his temples, "I still not quite awake yet."

The man looked uncertain for a beat, then nodded and got to his feet, "Okay. I'll go ahead and feed Ed, then. Hopefully he'll eat. He wouldn't earlier."

Roy stopped and looked up at him again. "...How is he doing?" he asked quietly.

"Better," Maes replied, his tone suddenly a little clipped, "but not great." And with that he turned and left the room.

Roy watched him go silently, the sharp pang of guilt returning to him with a vengeance. He couldn't exactly blame Maes for being angry... He really should have given himself time to think over the transmutation before jumping into it so passionately. If he had given himself more time to reflect, then perhaps he would have realized that he'd made the circle too powerful and he could have fixed it before putting Ed through something like that. Well, at least now they knew what to expect from the transmutation next time and it would certainly never be this bad for Ed again. True, it was still going to hurt, but it wouldn't be quite so terrible. Roy would make sure of that.

Roy sighed again, then put his feet to the floor and stood hesitantly. He tried to take a step but staggered and had to catch himself on the wall. He gave an exasperated, sick little moan and looked back over at the bed. The rumpled blanket looked so inviting... but no, if it was already past nightfall, that meant that he had been asleep for hours already and he should probably get up. At the very least he should try to drink something; he was shaky and weak with dehydration and just going back to bed would probably just make him feel even worse.

So, with an unhappy curse, Roy pushed himself away from the stability of the wall and stumbled out into the front room.

Maes and Edward were in the kitchen. Maes was pouring warmed-over soup into a bowl and Edward was sprawled disinterestedly under the table, staring into space. When he saw Roy he raised his head a little, then lowered it again and flattened his ears back against his skull. Roy looked down at him for a moment then moved over to stand next to Maes, reaching into the cabinet so that he could pull down his tin of coffee grounds.

"Uh-uh," Maes said suddenly, taking the tin from him. "The last thing you need right now is coffee, especially if you're nauseous."

Roy opened his mouth to give a groggy protest, but Maes silenced him with a look and put the coffee tin back in the cabinet. If it were any other person in the world who was trying to keep Roy from his precious coffee they would immediately pay for such an atrocity via having their faces burned off, but somehow Maes managed to get away with it. Sometimes Roy just couldn't argue with him—especially not now, when he was weak, in pain, and scarcely able to keep his eyes open. Maes just had that effect on people sometimes... and he was also probably right. So, instead of launching into a tirade about how he really, really wanted—nay, needed—some goddamned coffee, he just gave a loud sigh and pouted.

"Go sit down, I'll make you tea," Maes offered after a moment, eyeing him. He still looked worried, but was trying not to show it. Roy vaguely wondered how bad he looked, then shrugged it off and took a seat at the table, pulling the chair out so that he could still see Edward; he was entirely too tired to be thinking about his appearance. He watched Maes finish filling Ed's bowl and carefully set it on the floor. The two men watched Ed glance over at the food, consider his options for a moment, then turn away from it again dispassionately.

Maes' frown deepened.

"He's been laying there since before I went home," he told Roy unhappily. "He slept in there with you for a bit after I gave him his meds, but then he came out here and hid under the table."

"Hm," Roy mused, pinching the bridge of his nose in the attempt to lessen his headache a little, "How long were you gone?"

"Not long. An hour, maybe. Gracia just wanted me to bring you the soup. I figured it was okay to leave you two alone for a bit since Ed wasn't really moving around much and you were still snoring."

"I don't snore!"

"He snores, doesn't he?" Maes asked Edward, smiling.

Ed, startled from his primitive thoughts by the sudden question, looked up at Maes blankly.

"...Snore?" he asked, not understanding the word. His voice was harsh and raw and unspeakably tired-sounding.

"...Nevermind," Maes said with a quiet sadness, all humor gone as he turned back to the stove and lit a fire under the tea kettle.

Roy chewed his lip and looked down at Edward for a moment. Then he got up from his chair and lowered himself onto the floor, kneeling beside the table. "Come here, Edward. Let me have a look at you."

Ed didn't budge. He looked over at Roy without raising his head then closed his eyes again, deliberately ignoring him. Roy squared his jaw. "Now, Fullmetal."

At this Ed finally raised his head but still made no move to actually get up. "Why?" he asked after a beat, his voice both wary and defiant. The thin edge of fear in his warped voice was like a blade that sliced into Roy deftly and he immediately lightened his tone,

"...I just want to take a look at you. I won't hurt you; I promise."

Ed still didn't look convinced but then he took a breath and tried to get his feet under him. He pushed himself upright with a restrained grunt of discomfort as he put his stiff shoulders to work, but the task of getting his back legs to hold his weight seemed to be much more difficult. He staggered and nearly collapsed back onto the floor, the wobbling of his unsteady legs making him look like a newborn colt learning how to walk.

The chimera steadied himself and limped over to Roy making a sharp whimpering sound in the back of his throat with every slow step. Roy winced at the pained sound empathetically, trying to pay attention to the way that Ed was moving, looking for any changes to his skeletal structure.

As much of a fiasco as the transmutation had been, Roy had no doubt in his mind that it had worked on some level. He hadn't really had his head about him right after he'd completed the transmutation so he hadn't looked for any signs of change in Edward's contorted body then. Now, though, he was more rested—albeit in more pain, as well—and he could see that the transmutation had indeed had an effect.

As Ed moved closer, Roy could see that his long, lupine muzzle had shortened a bit. His skull certainly didn't resemble anything human yet, but there was a marked difference in his jaw structure. His shoulders, too, had morphed into something vaguely more human; they were less hunched and more linear, his collarbone stretching to force his shoulders apart and widen his ribcage. While this visual sign of progress was deeply heartening to see, it was also very frightening. God, no wonder Ed was whimpering and had no interest in food... he must be in so much pain in the aftermath of having his bones and muscles stretched and molded far past what they were ever meant to withstand.

Ed came to a stop in front of Roy and his back legs finally gave out. He sat back on his haunches hard with a gasping yelp and closed his eyes tightly against the pain in his hips. Roy's stomach twisted with pity and he looked up at Maes. The man had been watching them interact silently, his face both sad and tired.

"I think we should give him more of his pain pills," Roy opined softly, "Toss them to me, will you?"

Maes wordlessly grabbed the rattling bottle of pills from the cabinet and gave them to him. Ed grimaced when he saw the pills, but didn't say anything. He knew that they would make him feel better, even if he didn't want to take them. Roy opened the bottle and shook one out into his hand, then offered it to the boy silently. Edward hesitated only a moment, then opened his jaws obediently and Roy put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and swallowed it with a shudder.

"Tastes bad..." Ed complained quietly after he'd forced the acrid capsule down his gullet.

"I know, but you'll feel better soon," Roy told him gently, daring to reach forward and put a hesitant hand against the side of his head, examining the lines of stitches above his brow. They looked pretty good, but the corner of one gash appeared to have been torn open by the transmutation. Roy should probably clean it and bandage it again before he went back to bed.

Edward leaned into Roy's soft touch and closed his eyes again with a deep sigh. "...Are you still mad at me?" Roy asked him suddenly, remembering the kid's reluctance to be touched by him when they were down in the basement.

Ed paused for a beat, then shook his head. "No. Not bad like them, not you... sorry, sorry..." he apologized, nuzzling Roy's hand.

"Don't be sorry. You had every right to be frightened and upset," Roy said, pulling away from Edward's loving contact uncomfortably. "But I'm glad that you understand that I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"Wasn't trying to..." he rasped in sincere agreement, bowing his shaggy head.

Some of the guilt in Roy's breast dissipated, relieved by Edward's unspoken forgiveness and he smiled warmly in spite of himself. Ed's tail gave a weak little thump in reply, but then he winced as even that small movement made his aching body twinge.

"...It won't hurt this badly next time, I promise," Roy assured him, resisting the urge to reach out to him again. "It will be better. I'll fix it."

Edward didn't say anything to that but a brief flash of fear crossed his face. Clearly, the idea of "next time" was not something that he wanted to think about, no matter how much Roy promised him that it wouldn't be as bad as the first time.

"You aren't thinking of trying it again tonight, are you?" Maes asked severely from his post beside the stove as he waited for the water in the kettle to boil.

"No. No way," Roy hastened to assure him, looking up. "Probably not even as soon as tomorrow night. I want to give Ed's body some time to adjust and I... I really don't think I'll be physically capable for a while..." he trailed off and rubbed at his temple as his headache made itself known again, pounding against the backs of his eyes. "That transmutation really did a number on me. My head is killing me."

"You... hurt, too?" Ed asked, leaning forward and looking up into his face worriedly. Roy balked a little, taken off-guard by the kid's abrupt concern.

"It... It's not really that bad," he lied, trying to downplay his pain as best he could in spite of the fact that he could barely see straight. The last thing he wanted was the kid's pity. Ed had enough to worry about as it was.

"Have pills," Ed suggested, looking at the bottle that was still in Roy's hand, "Feel better, yes?"

"No, I'm fine. It's just a headache. It'll go away on its own after a while."

"Have pills," he insisted sternly.

"You'd better listen to him, Roy," Maes said with an amused chuckle, "It's only fair, since you made him take them."

Roy rolled his eyes and looked down at the bottle, reading the off-white label. It was a very mild form of codeine, but that was still better than the aspirin that he had planned on taking. "I guess it couldn't hurt," he shrugged and downed one of the white pills dry. Ed was right; they did taste bad.

"Very good," Edward praised.

"...Very good," Roy echoed with a wry smirk, playing along with this sudden role-reversal. Ed seemed pleased with the response, though. He scooted closer to Roy and lowered himself down onto the floor, shifting his weight off of his sore front legs and shoulders and sprawling out. He rested his head against Roy's knee, let out a long, tired sigh and closed his eyes.

From the other side of the kitchen, Maes made a low crooning sound. Roy looked up to see him smiling down at them fondly.

"What?" Roy asked sharply, unnerved by the look on his face.

"Nothing," he grinned, "You two are just incredibly cute."

"Oh yes, very cute," Roy spat, irritated and feeling a little awkward, "A whimpering chimera and a half-dead alchemist popping painkillers: it's fucking adorable."

"Fucking adorable..."

Roy glared downward, "Don't swear, Edward."

The chimera turned his head to look up at his superior and, with a very familiar kind of petulance, said, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Maes laughed out loud. "HA! Yep, he's still Ed..." he chortled, taking the kettle off of the stove as it began to whistle.

Roy made a face at him, but inwardly he was pleased. He was still Ed and he was expressing himself more and more, reminding them that even if he looked like a malformed dog, he was still the Fullmetal Alchemist. He was also talking more than usual now in the wake of the transmutation; the brief conversation that he and Roy had just had was just about the most he'd ever said at one time since his rescue.

"Do you remember my name yet?" Roy asked hopefully, thinking that the transmutation might have altered more than just his bone structure and had restored some of his broken mind.

"No," he said automatically, still looking a little annoyed that he'd been told not to swear. The tiny hope that had raised itself in Roy flagged again. Well, he supposed it was too soon to expect much from him mentally. They still had a long way to go... this had only been the first transmutation, after all... "Wait..." Ed continued suddenly, raising his head a little.

"What?"

"Name... Colonel."

Roy drew in a sharp breath and Maes froze halfway through pouring hot water into a mug. They exchanged a brief, excited glance, then Roy sobered himself and cleared his throat.

"Colonel what? Do you know?" he asked, pushing for just a little bit more from the kid.

"Colonel..." Edward mumbled, thinking hard. "Colonel... Bastard?"

Maes clapped his hand over his mouth, only barely managing to choke back the bark of laughter that suddenly erupted from him. He turned away from them, his shoulders quaking with silent giggles that he was frantically trying to stifle. Roy bit the inside of his cheek hard to keep from joining in and fought to keep a straight face.

"...That's wrong...?" Edward asked, looking both disappointed and embarrassed as he glanced over at Maes' snickering form.

"It's very close," Roy said encouragingly, "It's not my name, but it's what you've always called me... so I guess it'll do."

Edward frowned gently, obviously not getting why it was funny. He leaned his head against Roy's knee again, muttering to himself. Roy almost felt bad for him, but he was too busy grinning like an idiot to try and comfort him.

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He'd been putting it off for too long. He had searched and searched. He had taken the lead to the very end, stretching it as far as it would go, desperate to find something that might tell him where his brother was. But no... he had just been deluding himself. The lead had been weak anyway. He had known before even beginning to follow it that it would probably lead to nothing. Even Mustang had told him not to go. Mustang had wanted him to stay in Central and help him go over clues, but Alphonse just couldn't sit and do nothing when his brother was still out there somewhere...

Al sighed. He was sitting on a crate beside a dirt road in the outskirts of some downtrodden southern town that he couldn't even remember the name of, his great metal head bent under the dire weight of defeat. He had to give up. He was out of ideas and he was out of places to search. He was lost now. He'd been lost for months, really, but he'd been able to keep that aimless horror at bay by grasping at straws and clinging to hope, letting it drive him to every corner of Amestris. But now there was nowhere else to go and no more leads. He had failed to find his brother.

Again.

He just had to get back to Central and hope that Mustang's searching had turned up something. Alphonse toyed with the hem of his waistcloth anxiously. He really didn't want to run back to Mustang empty-handed.

Again.

Especially when Mustang hadn't wanted him to leave in the first place. Al's current lead had fallen cold days ago, but he hadn't been able to muster the courage to call the colonel and tell him yet. He just continued to wander, hoping against hope that he would just stumble upon something useful. He didn't of course, but he'd always been prone to wishful thinking and desperation had heightened that inclination exponentially. Now, though, he was ready to admit defeat. He had to go back. There was nothing here for him.

Again.

He gave another sigh and stood, his stiff joints groaning loudly in the silent, empty evening. Al had forgotten how dry and dusty it got this far south. He was going to have to find a way to oil the joints in his armor soon or else it would take him forever to make his way back to Mustang and his staff. It was getting hard for him to walk and his current location was so far out in the country that there weren't even any trains nearby. As it was, he probably wouldn't be able to get back to Central for at least a week. Well, he could at least find a telephone and give the colonel an update... not that he really had much to say.

He trudged down the road, feeling more alone than he'd ever felt in his young life, his only company the metallic shrieking of his joints, the eerie sound reminding him of the lamentations of starving dogs howling in the distance.

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((A.N.: sorry that this took so long.))