Author's note: My deepest and most sincere apologies on how delayed this chapter is. Life gets in the way of most grand plans, and so it was with this... However, I think I may be back on track now. This story was mostly complete when I first sought the opinion of my wonderful beta reader and story adviser, ZonkieTheGreat, and thanks to her advice, it evolved a great deal more. Unfortunately, I realized as I began the final edit of this chapter, that a large portion of it had been left untouched, which meant it no longer flowed with the rest of the story. It took me a while to make it work again, and if it hadn't been necessary to the story line, I would have abandoned it all together, but it's finally fixed, so... Thank you for your immense patience, please enjoy this latest installment of Penance!

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Chapter 6

A Crazy Plan

Mustang spotted his quarry across the way. Hurrying to intercept him, he asked Harper for a word in private. Harper, clearly surprised to find Mustang still in the camp after so many hours, took in his overhasty tone and manner with a suspicious look. Grudgingly though, he nodded his assent, and followed Roy out of the compound. They entered the trees just a little way outside the gate.

Harper, for his part, waited patiently for mustang to explain himself, which he did, once he was sure they were out of sight of the gate. Finally stopping, he turned to face his friend.

"Harper, I have a favor to ask of you..."

"You realize I could be shot for this..." He grumbled when Mustang had finished.

His face was solemn, but he was already pulling off his dog tags.

"And they will shoot you if you're caught... Have you thought of that?"

He shook his head, as though he couldn't believe what he was doing, then quickly began to unbutton his shirt.

"Have you at least told Winry?" He inquired quietly, while doing so.

When he received Mustang's answer, a simple shake of his head after a moment's silent pause, he swore under his breath, but handed over his shirt just the same.

"Look, I wouldn't ask if I thought there was any other way..." Mustang said, following suit. "If I'm caught, I'll tell them I surprised you... Just try to keep her out of the crossfire if you can. Tell them she's just a refugee I was using for cover or something..."

Harper was still shaking his head.

"I must be nuts..." He muttered to himself as he continued to hand over his uniform piece by piece.

.o0o.

Twenty minutes later, Roy strolled into the compound trying to act natural, and attempting to keep his distance from the rest of Carter's squad. Thankfully, he made it to Harper's assigned post unnoticed.

"Unless you like staring matches, you're in for a long dull night. Hope you brought a book..." Muttered the other soldier as he was relieved.

Mustang had to suppress a smirk as he shot a glance at the figure lying with it's back to them.

Hasn't changed a bit.

After the previous guard had departed, Roy waited several minutes to insure they wouldn't be disturbed. During that time, he busied himself by standing on the chair the last man had vacated, to unscrew the bare bulb that hung above. Not all the way, mind you, just enough so that it no longer received power.

That done, he returned the chair to its previous position, and lit the oil lantern that had been provided in the event of a power outage. The dim, gently flickering light ought to be enough to obscure his features, should anyone come in. He doubted anyone would though. It had been dusk when he arrived, and all around him he heard the sounds of soldiers settling in for the night.

Lifting the lantern now, he approached the bars. As their shadows danced across the floor towards the figure on the cot, his eyes lit upon something that made him chuckle. There beside the cot lay a tin tray, all the food had been eaten, but the drink provided had been left untouched.

"Still don't like milk, Huh?" He said, laughter coloring his voice.

This finally earned at least a vocal response from the cell's stoic occupant.

"Buzz off, jackass," The figure said in German. "I'm not here for your amusement."

Mustang chuckled again. That was just about the exact response he had expected.

"Oh, come off it Ed, at least I didn't call you short."

At this the figure twisted to glare over his shoulder, his face shrouded in shadows the lantern light stubbornly refused to pierce. Abruptly he rose with a single harsh laugh, to sit at the edge of the cot.

"Let me guess smartass, you read a few personnel reports, and you think you know me..." He demanded snidely, as he peered angrily up at his visitor.

Without waiting for an answer, Roy's former subordinate came to his feet, and began to advance on him, though his shoulders remained hunched.

"Try this on for size... Just by looking at you, I'd bet your a promotion seeking brown noser who would do just about anything to move up the ranks. For the most part you alternate between acting superior, and acting unconcerned, but it's all a mask for your true intentions... Oh, and your name is Roy."

As his tirade came to a close, Ed slowed to a stop about midway between his cot and the bars.

"So how'd I do? Good, right?... And I didn't even have a personnel file..." He finished, sounding overly proud of himself.

Confused by his odd behavior, Roy stepped closer to the bars.

"Ed this is no time for one of your tantrums, I need your help... How did you get alchemy to work here?"

In response to this question, Ed's demeanor changed drastically.

"Who sent you?" He asked in a hushed, suspicious, tone.

Though Roy could barely make out his face in the gathering darkness, Eds eyes visibly narrowed, and he retreated a step.

"Was it the Thule society? Who ever it was, you're out of luck, I'll never help you."

"Ed, what are you talking about? No one sent me..."

"Then who are you? What do you want?" He demanded, retreating another step.

"Ed, it's me, Roy, Roy Mustang. I've come a very long way to see you."

"How can I be sure it's really you?"

At this, Roy finally felt a bit of relief from the anxiety that had begun to grow within him. For here, finally, Ed had given him an opportunity to prove he was who he claimed to be. After all, there were a number of things he knew about the boys that few, even at home, were aware of...

"The first time I met you, I had come looking for your father. I stood out in the rain watching your house... It was the night you lost your arm and leg, and Al lost his body in a failed attempt to resurrect your mother... The last time I saw you, was just before I agreed to destroy the gate in your brother's stead..." Mustang lifted the lamp and removed his hat so that his face was clearly visible.

"It really is you... If you destroyed the gate, then what are you doing here?"

"I should ask the same question of you, Ed..."

"We tried!There's no alchemy here, Remember?" Ed growled angrily, advancing on him again. "Once it was opened, the gate on this side could not be destroyed, and it can't be said that we didn't try... What they did carved it into more than just the ceiling of the fortress. Even after we detonated one of the rockets and collapsed the place, I could still feel it hanging there. The most I could hope for was that it would remain hidden and dormant... And that dismantling your side would be enough to keep it that way..."

Roy had heard little of this explanation, though.

As Ed slowly entered the ring of lamplight, the true extent of the disaster this mission had become, was made clearly evident in the lantern glow. The voice was Ed's, no doubt, perhaps a bit deeper and more harsh on the ears than it had once been, but Roy had assumed that was due, in part, to his reaching maturity in less than ideal conditions. His appearance, however, made it obvious that far more than just three years had passed for him. The man before him much more closely resembled Hoenhyme than the young man he had known and expected to encounter again. Mustang shook his head in hopes of eradicating the vision, but it firmly refused to fade.

"What's wrong general? You look like you've seen a ghost..." Ed asked, letting his earlier explanation trail off. "Oh I see, you're just now figuring it out, aren't you?"

Coming to stand just inches from him, Ed gripped the bars that separated them.

"Congratulations, it took me months to realize the time lines didn't flow evenly on both sides of the gate..."

The laugh that followed this remarkable revelation, was cold and humorless.

Giving his head one last shake in an effort to regain equilibrium, Roy focused on the task at hand. Strange as this all might seem, the fact of the matter was, that it changed nothing. Old or young, he intended to get Winry and his former charges back home. So, drawing himself straight, he looked Ed in the eye.

"I've come to send you home." He stated simply, but Ed's response was hardly what he had expected.

"You've come on a fool's errand, then..."

Surprising in both speed and veracity, Roy experienced a sudden building of anger and frustration the likes of which he hadn't felt in years...About five years, to be exact.

"Damn it, Ed, were you really so blind then that you didn't see how badly you would hurt her! She risked everything for you, her work, her freedom, her life! and all you could manage was a 'so long and thanks for all the automail'? You were a child then, so I suppose maybe I could understand it, but are you still so childish now?"

At this, a strange anger flared in Ed's eyes, making him even more unrecognizable.

"You don't know what it's like, Roy!" He growled angrily. "When they come for you, it's like you never existed. I thought I knew what evil was... That I'd seen the worst horrors mankind could unleash when I faced Dante and the Homunculus she fostered, but they don't hold a candle to these bastards... No, compared to them, Dante was an absolute saint...

"There was talk of it, even before the war began... Rumors of people just disappearing in Germany and Poland, but for a while it seemed that was all they were. Then one day Noah went out. She was just going to pick some things up for supper, but she never came back. We searched everywhere for her, but she'd simply vanished. Knowing what I do now, I shudder to think what became of her...

"Two days later, I woke to soldiers bursting through my door and dragging me from my bed. They threw Al and I into the back of truck in the middle of the night. Took us from our home without reason or warning... I cant go... I won't! It's nearly over, the war's almost won. I'll see them on their knees for what they did..." He finished, his fists, now clenched tightly at his sides, shook out of barely contained rage.

Glinting in his former subordinate's eyes, Mustang thought he detected the slightest edge of madness showing through the righteous anger of a man horribly wronged. And though Roy'd realized long ago, that it was often pointless to try and reason with either those righteously angry and/or those gone mad, he was willing to try now for her sake.

"Look, I really don't know how much time has past in this world, but in our world it's only been three years... I came to send you back because she needed you, Pinako is gone, Ed, Winry's all alone now."

But Ed only gazed back silently, with the steely eyed determination of a man who would not be moved from his position.

"Fine... I came here to get you back, but stay or go, that's your prerogative, my only concern now is Winry. Getting her home safely is my highest priority now... So no matter whether you go or stay, I still need you to tell me everything you know about alchemy in this world, so I can get her home..."

This, finally, seemed to break Ed's focus away from his own rage.

"Her? Winry's here?"

Mustang nodded gravely.

"And it's getting more and more dangerous for her by the day-"

"Then why the hell did you..." Ed cut him off angrily, but he must have seen the dangerous look in Mustang's eye, because he clamped his jaw shut on the accusation. "I'll tell you what you need to know, but I'm not going back... Whether Al does or not... Well, that's his decision."

Mustang sighed wearily, it was going to be a very long night...

.o0o.

Unaccustomed to the early morning sunlight, Roy squinted as he stepped out of the stockade's gloomy interior, suppressing a yawn. It was hardly the first time he'd gone without sleep, but it was clear by his body's response, that he'd grown unaccustomed to it.

He ran his fingers through his unruly hair, in a vain attempt to tame it, though he knew it was pointless, and stifled another yawn. The men of the camp were already up and around, going about their morning duties.

As he surveyed his surroundings, he spied a figure striding determinedly towards him. Even at this distance he was easily identifiable by that shock of pumpkin hair, it was the last person he wanted to run into right now... Bailey.

There was still enough distance between them, that Mustang could be reasonably certain he hadn't been recognized yet, but that would change quickly if he allowed the man to get much closer. Ducking his head, he moved into a group of passing soldiers jogging in formation. Ignoring the grumbles and mutterings from them as he pushed his way through, he ducked between the barracks beyond. A moment later, he peeked around the corner in the direction of the stockade, and was relieved to see the successfully evaded Bailey, standing on it's stoop, having a brief conversation with the soldier that had relived him.

Opting for the path less traveled in hopes of avoiding any more close calls, Mustang chose to turn and head toward the back of the barracks. there looked to be a walkway between them and the fence that separated the camp from the outside world. banking on the likelihood that few others would use this route, he moved toward the gate. For the most part he was correct, making it all the way to the gate house that sat to one side of it, before he ran smack into the one person he was even less inclined to run into than Bailey...

Carter, for his part, said nothing though his eyes narrowed instantly, and one eyebrow seemed poised to make a hasty retreat into his hairline. Both these reactions faded instantly, though, as his focus was drawn somewhere over Mustang's left shoulder.

"Hey, Bailey. Something I can do for you?" The Sargent asked in a surprisingly jovial tone.

Mustang had suddenly come to a complete understanding of the phrase 'between a rock and a hard place', or was it 'the devil and the deep blue sea'... Both seemed equally appropriate at this moment. His shoulders hunched, but Roy didn't turn to look at the man behind him, in a moment he was certain he wouldn't have to. The jig was up.

"Actually, I was hoping to have a word with the Corporal if you don't mind..."

Surprisingly, instead of sounding suspicious, his tone seemed distracted and even a touch embarrassed.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible just now..." Carter answered evenly.

Mustang waited for the Sargent to expose the deception.

"There are some things the Corporal and I need to discuss that can't wait. Why don't you head on over to the mess, and get your self something to eat... I'll send him 'round as soon as we've finished"

Mustang's eyes widened questioningly. Only vaguely did he register the 'yessir', and receding footsteps. As his focus returned to Roy, Carter's eyes narrowed again.

"Let's go Corporal, we have some things to discuss..."

With one hand resting gently but no less menacingly on his sidearm, the other firmly gripped Mustang's upper arm and briskly steered him, first down the road, then when they had left the view of the gate, into the brush... It was close enough to where he and Harper had entered the woods the day before, that he felt a brief sense of deja vu...

When they were out of sight of the road, Carter's grip on his arm released and he stepped back from Mustang, though the other hand never left his sidearm.

"Give me your weapons."

His voice was gruff and reminiscent of the day about a week ago when they had first met. Without argument, Mustang passed them over. Carter had not exposed his deception while in the camp, that gave him the slightest glimmer of hope.

Looking like he felt a little more confident, now that all the guns were in his possession, Carter began to ask questions.

"Just what the hell is going on, Mustang? Where's Harper? What did you do to him?"

With a sigh, Mustang decided to go out on a limb and trust Carter with the truth.

"Harper's fine, I didn't do anything to him... If you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself, he's not far from here if he's where I left him last evening..."

The Sargent emitted a sound surprisingly similar to a growl, and a muscle near his temple gave a few spastic twitches, then in a rush of expelled breath, he said.

"Take me there."

Mustang nodded then began to lead the way through the thick undergrowth. Finally, they erupted into the clearing he'd left Harper in the evening before, and there was the man himself. Alive and well as promised, and crouching with his back to them as picked through the contents of a K-ration box.

Not immediately turning to face them, Harper spoke.

"'Bout time you got back here, it was bloody cold wearing this stuff last night, especially without a fire, and I honestly thought I was done eating this crap for a while. You owe me..."

As Harper finally turned to face the newcomers, Mustang saw all the blood drain from his face as his jaw went slack, then soundlessly opened and closed a few times.

"Hello, Harper" Carter said calmly, but with much menace.

"I- I can explain-" Harper blurted helplessly, before Carter cut him off.

"And I fully expect you to... But now is not the time. Hurry up and get changed, Bailey's looking for you..."

"What's he want?"Asked Harper, who had now begun to recover from the initial shock of seeing Carter.

"How the hell should I know?" Carter replied testily. "He didn't say, but with his luck he probably got the clap while he was on leave in London..."

Harper grimaced

"Probably"

When they had finished switching back to their own cloths, Carter returned Harper's rifle and sidearm to him.

"You get your ass over to the medical ward as soon as you're done with Bailey... And stay there... Me and Mustang are gonna have us a little chat, and I expect to find you there when it's done"

Harper gave a curt nod and then without another word plunged into the undergrowth. When he had gone, Carter returned his attention to Mustang.

"What were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that, does Winry know?"

"No."

"She must be worried sick, and did you even stop to think what would have happened to her if, anyone besides me had discovered you?"

"Harper and I discussed it briefly, I asked him to look after her if anything happened..."

"And precisely how would he have accomplished that, sitting in the stockade?"

"I'm sorry, the plan was spur of the moment-"

"Spur of the moment my ass, it was reckless! And not once have ever known you to be reckless, especially when it came to keeping her safe... So what on earth has got you so hot and bothered that you would go off half cocked, and risk her freedom, maybe even her life?"

Mustang looked down abashedly, because Carter was right as usual. And, as he still had yet to shoot him, or march him back to the stockade, Mustang decided to trust him a little further.

"Edward and Alphonse Elric." He answered softly.

"The Elrics?-" Carter cried, visibly grappling to find the words that might express his incredulity. "Have you gone completely mad!"

"Winry's an orphan." Mustang spoke this so softly that Carter almost missed it, but it drew him up short.

"What?" Carter sputtered, now looking genuinely confused. "What has that got to do with any of this?"

Mustang sighed then began to explain himself.

"Everything... She was orphaned when she was quite young, and after her parents were killed, aside from her grandmother the closest thing she had to family were two brothers from her village. They had also been orphaned young..."

"The Elrics" Carter interjected.

"Yes."

Carter, pinching the bridge of his nose, looked as though he was beginning to develop a nasty headache.

"Is that why you seemed so excited when you saw the duty roster?"

"Was it that obvious? I thought I'd covered it better" Mustang replied, falling off track for a moment, but Carter only shot him a withering look, and folded his arms across his chest.

"OK, ok..." Mustang said, holding his hands out conciliatorally "Yes"

Carter dropped his arms now

"Why! What is it between you and her? What on earth makes a man wake up in the morning and say to himself 'Hmm, I think I'll try and get myself killed today'?"

"Because I recruited them!..." He cried "It was my fault, I took them from her... I took everything from her!..."

He swallowed, then after a moment he continued, but the bluster had gone out of him now. "They were all she had left and I took them... I know you're upset-"

"Oh, I'm a hell of a lot more than upset." Carter said, cutting him off. "Harper's got a family to worry about too. He doesn't need to be getting mixed up in halfwit schemes that are likely to get him shot!"

"You're right, I'm sorry, but can you blame me for trying to give something back to her?"

Carter shook his head "No, I just don't buy it... There has got to be more to it than that... You were a ranking officer in wartime. These can't be the only men you ever lost, so why the obsession... Why the obsession with her?"

Carter waited patiently for a response, but on this Mustang remained silent. Realizing he would get no answer, Carter let out an exasperated sigh.

"Fine, have it your way"

He'd started to turn away, when Mustang spoke up.

"Look, I know you don't owe me any favors, but I really am sorry about Harper, and whatever your decision, I promise I'll tell them anything you think they'll believe, to keep him out of trouble... Only, would you please let me see her before you turn me in?"

"I'M NOT GOING TO TURN YOU IN!"

"You're not?" Mustang asked, genuinely surprised by this outright admission, but also much relieved.

"NO! If I was going to I would have done it long before now..." His aggrivetion finally blowing itself out, his voice lowered into a calmer, even timbre. "While most certainly ill advised, I don't think your actions were sinister in nature. You've acted in good faith so far... And besides, whether I like it or not, Harper trusts you, and I trust his judgment... I just wish you two would'ave trusted me..."

Carter paused, seemingly waiting for a response but as guilty as he felt, Mustang could think of none that seemed appropriate. finally his arms dropped to his sides and he shook his head.

"You all are going to put me in an early grave..." He muttered under his breath, dropping his arms to his sides and shaking his head, then aloud, said. "Alright get out of here. Just don't think this conversation is closed, we'll talk again soon. Now go... Go let Winry know your still alive"

.o0o.

It had been a harrowing night, and the blanket she'd wrapped around herself did little to mitigate the all encompassing numbness that had been brought on, not by cold, but fear.

A little after daybreak, the clearing of a throat and a shuffling of feet, followed after a moment, by a somewhat timid knock on the center pole of the tent, heralded the arrival of a guest. She quickly inquired who it was, wondering as she did, at the false perception of security the drab canvas walls gave her. Hicks announced himself, and after a moment she pulled back the flap.

"He still ain't back." He stated with a sigh, after a long moment's study of her less than well rested countenance.

Giving a small, quickly fading smile, she shook her head in answer, though his statement hadn't really required one.

"Well, I brought you some food anyway. They got in some better supplies over at our camp, and I figured we could all use a break from those K's"

Again, she smiled weakly, and he fell back a pace to let her pass as she stepped out of the tent. She seated herself on a crate, and he did likewise after she took the small cloth wrapped parcel he'd held out to her. Inside it she found a sandwich of eggs and cheese on toast and another of toast spread with jam and butter. He had also come bearing a steaming canteen cup full of what he informed her, was real, fresh brewed coffee. Accepting his offerings gratefully, she began to eat, noticing as she did, that the eggs tasted a bit strange. When she mentioned it politely in passing, instead of looking offended, as she had feared he might, he gave a short barking laugh.

"That's on account of 'em being the powdered, canned variety, instead of the cracked from the shell variety. A fact that also makes 'em awfully hard to dye come Easter time..." He explained, chuckling lightly at his own joke.

Relieved, not to have offended him, she found herself smiling back, though it was more because she didn't really have any idea what 'Easter' was, and why it would make anyone want to dye eggs in the first place...

Aside from the slightly odd flavor of the eggs, she had found the meal to be wholly delicious, but all to soon it was gone, and with it what little distraction she'd had from her worry.

Unbidden and unwanted, she felt a tear slide down to her chin, and saw Hicks' face, which only a moment ago had been lit with a shared appreciation of the good food and light conversation, fall at the sight of it. This was one of the reasons she hated letting others see her cry...

While he was careful to keep a respectful distance, he tentatively stood, and reached out to lay a comforting hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Aw, don't worry Winry. Buxton's probably just got him stashed away somewhere, working on that pet project a his... I'm sure he'll turn up soon." He drawled in an attempt to sound encouraging.

Then, looking off to the side, muttered 'Speak of the devil'. Inclining his head in the direction he'd been looking, he said in a normal tone. "Here he comes now-"

The her of a week, a year, or ten years ago would never have considered or understood the actions the her of this moment took. She was already on her feet and moving toward Roy before Hicks had even finished, trying desperately not to break into a run. When she reached him, she expressed her relief at finding him whole and unharmed, in the only way that seemed appropriate at that moment... No, the her of the past would not have understood at all...

.o0o.

He hadn't needed to be told twice. Beating a hasty retreat from the much perturbed Staff Sargent, he soon arrived at the small civilian refugee encampment that the military had set up. It wasn't far from the former prison camp they currently occupied, and as he rounded the corner of a tent, he spied Winry perched on the edge of an empty wooden crate, her face haggard.

Hicks stood before her, his right hand resting on her shoulder while the thumb of his left hooked under the strap of a rifle he wore slung over his shoulder. After a moment he looked up, noticing Mustang he spoke a few quiet words to her, and she too looked up, then stood so suddenly, Hicks had to fall back a step in order to avoid a collision.

Walking quickly towards him, she did not even break stride when she reached him. Instead she slammed into him bodily, throwing her arms around him. She held on tightly for a few moments, then finally looked up at him.

"No one knew where you were... I was afraid that... I thought... I don't know what I thought..."

He could see that she had been crying, and the knowledge that he'd hurt her once again, tore at him.

"Winry I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you this way. There just wasn't time to tell you last night. Anyway I had to be sure before I got your hopes up, but I am sure now... Winry I found them."

"Them?"

She looked confused for a moment, then her eyes grew wide as the light dawned, and she drew back half a step so she could see him more clearly.

"You really found them" She stated, though it was still a half question, as she still didn't quite seem to believe she'd really heard what she heard.

"I spoke with Ed last night."

"Last night... You mean they're here?"

"Yes, but there's something you need-"

She threw her arms around his neck, cutting him off, she kissed him... And mostly out of habit, combined with sheer surprise, he returned it. Not the chaste kiss of a friend, but a true kiss...

Even as it happened, he knew it was wrong, knew that her's had simply been a spontaneous reaction to such amazing news, and he was taking advantage. She likely would have responded the same way to Breda or even Scar, had they been the ones to deliver the news... But to his complete and utter amazement, instead of taking offense, she responded in kind, with an enthusiasm that astonished him. The sheer euphoria of it was such that it was almost a minute before he remembered him self.

He pulled away, and upon hearing her gasp, forced open the eyes he didn't even realize he'd shut. Despite the fact that she had initiated it, looking down into her eyes, he still expected to see disgust, but there was none... Just an air of wonder as her lips again drifted upward. He was only able to manage a startled 'Winry?' before her lips closed on his once more.

In that moment, any fortitude he might have had, crumbled to dust, and he surrendered wholeheartedly to the power of her kiss. He realized, what he wanted more than anything in the whole world was for this kiss to last forever. But it also revealed to him a truth he'd long denied... A truth so steeped in irony it was painful...

That he wanted her, could not be denied, but this amounted to far more than want... Though he could not allow it... Would not allow himself to even think it, let alone voice it... Though he'd buried it so deep for so long, that even he himself had been largely unaware of it... He'd felt it... Almost from the moment he'd first set eyes on her, and it terrified him...

A more cruel and improbable fate he could not have imagined then or now. It was the reason that, despite his guilt, he hadn't revealed himself to her at once. While he couldn't bring him self to lie to her, neither could he bring himself to tell her outright and see himself become the same monster in her eyes that he faced in the mirror each day... It had been agony when she eventually did learn the truth.

It had made the likelihood of his current position even more improbable, yet here he stood, and even more improbably still, she had been the one to initiate it... His mind boggled as it luxuriated in the glory of this impossible kiss.

All to soon, though, it was over. When he opened his eyes again, she looked as shattered by this sudden turn of events, as he felt. Then, after another silent, breathless moment spent staring at one another, she suddenly turned. Pressing the back of her hand to her lips, she hurried away looking torn, leaving him standing there, rooted to the spot by the immensity of what had just happened...

.o0o.

Harper looked up from the inventory he'd been going over, as he heard the front door of the medical ward bang open and shut.

It was Carter.

He'd been dreading this visit since he'd seen him return to the camp alone, but now that the encounter was imminent, he found he no longer felt any fear of the outcome, only a bit of guilt for not having given Carter at least some warning of what they had planned... Even if it simply hadn't been feasible at the time.

Flipping closed the inventory, and laying his pencil down beside it, he stood to salute his friend and superior officer. At least, he thought idly as Carter entered the office, he hadn't brought the MP's.

"Drop it, Harper, you know I hate that crap." Carter said irritably, wasting no time with pleasantries. "Sit."

Obediently, Harper dropped the salute, and returned to his seat. Carter closed the door of the small office behind him, and took a seat on the duty officer's cot at the back of the office. Clearly he intended to waste no time with small talk either

"Goddammit, Harper, what the hell were you thinking? If anyone else knew about this, you'd probably be shot for treason..."

"Did he say anything at all to you about why he did it...?" Harper asked calmly.

Carter quirked an eyebrow, but after throwing him a longsuffering look, answered.

"Yeah, he fed me some cockamamie line about her being an orphan, but I didn't buy it then, and I still don't. There has to be more to it-"

"There is." Harper said quietly.

The unexpected answer drew Carter up short.

"What?"

Somewhat guiltily, and with a resigned sigh, Harper began quietly to tell the entire story Mustang had related to him in confidence just a few days prior.

"Jesus" Carter muttered under his breath when Harper had finished.

"What will you do?"

"What can I do?" He demanded harshly, his face pulling into a thin lipped grimace. "If I breath a word of this, let even the slightest implication slip, you're both bound for the stockade, maybe even the firing squad..."

With a shake of his head, he gave a frustrated, growling sigh.

"What's done is done. Nothing seems the worse for it, so I'll let it go this once, but don't ever put me in this position again. And for the love of god, keep me in the loop next time, it would have been easy to get him in front of the Elrics legitimately, translating for them is the reason Buxton wanted him here in the first place!"

Shaking his head again, he rose.

"I'm headed to the mess. I need more coffee after the morning I've had, though I could really use something stronger. See me out?"

Harper stood and began to move, then paused, thinking the better of it.

"You're not going to hit me are you?"

Good humor now beginning to return, the question put a smirk on Carter's face.

"And spoil that baby face? Never..." He jibed, then sobering a bit, he continued. "Just keep it on the up and up from now on, ok... I don't ever want to have to tell your wife it was us that did you in..."

.o0o.

It was finally done. It had taken weeks, but he had finally finished repairing the array.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he sat back on his heels and set his knife down beside him. He allowed himself a few minutes to rest, then decided it was time for a test run to see if he had missed anything.

With care, he pulled on his gloves. He wasn't using fire this time, but they amplified his power none the less. He wasn't exactly sure how they managed it, it was something R&D had whipped up when they made them for him, but he supposed it was probably related to the way his state alchemist watch did... His watch!

He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets, and was relieved to find that unlike his wallet, which he'd forgotten in his desk drawer yet again (It was getting to be an annoying habit), the timepiece was ticking quietly away, safe where it belonged. He gave another sigh. Good, he had a feeling he was going to need all the help he could get...

Well it was now or never... Closing his eyes, he dipped his head and began to rub his palms together, causing numerous tiny sparks to fly off the loaded fabric, as he focused on gathering the power to him, to them. When he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, he took a quick, deep breath, then as he did, he opened his eyes and hands, and with a swift exhalation, slammed his palms down onto the line as it came back into focus. A jolt ran through him as the line began to glow. It was working! Finally, he began to feel real optimism about this project...

.o0o.

It was early afternoon. He sat perched upon that same wooden crate where he'd found her this morning... He'd waited for hours, hoping she would come back. Eventually though, the exhaustion had overcome him, and he'd begun to doze. Now, finally, she returned.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, she shook him into a mild consciousness.

"I want to see them." She said, when he'd lifted his head and managed, squintingly, to focus on her.

The sight of her face, not to mention the determination in her eyes and voice, might as well have been a splash of cold water, they were easily as effective, and brought him fully awake in an instant.

"What?" He said, eyes fully open now.

"I want to see them, Roy... I need to see them."

He stood now, fighting the urge to yawn and stretch after the awkward cramped position he'd been in on the crate... This was too important for him to appear either relaxed or bored.

"Winry, there are some things you need to know-"

But she cut him off again as she had the first time he had tried to tell her, though not nearly as enjoyably this time.

"It can wait, Roy. I want to see them."

Now, the determination in her eyes had been joined by an overwhelming urgency that would not be denied.

He'd always felt a bit like a child before the schoolmaster when he was around her, and it had only gotten worse since they'd come here... He sighed, resigning himself to doing it her way... Perhaps it would be easier to show, rather then tell her. But he did not relish the thought of shocking her so, it seemed so unforgivably cruel... One look in her eyes, though, told him she would have it no other way...

"Very well, I'll see what I can do, but I make no promises... I'm not exactly in Carter's good graces at the moment." He added under his breath, but she didn't seem to notice, instead she thanked him briefly, then hurried him off.

.o0o.

A short while later he had explained the situation to Carter who, while still clearly upset over the events of the morning, was remarkably more receptive to his request than he had dared to hope. He was eventually able to work out with the Sargent, that though they could not allow her to visit them, the brothers were given time out of doors for exercise each day. So she would at least be able to see the boys- Men, he corrected him self.

It was hard for him to come to terms with how they had changed. While it had only been a few hours since he'd found out, he doubted even the passage of years would allow him to grow used to what had happened...

In any case, she would not be able to speak with them, and he doubted that would completely appease Winry, but at least seeing them from a distance might at soften the blow a bit. Even so, he did his best to prepare her as they walked towards the camp a little later that afternoon.

"They are not the same as you remember them, Winry, a great deal of time has passed for them here, and in the harshest of conditions."

But she would not hear of it. She accused him of exaggerating the facts, and try as he might, he could not convince her otherwise.

"Honestly, Mustang, you make it sound as if decades have passed, its only been a few years."

He winced at her choice of words, but realized there would be no convincing her, at least not until she had seen them with her own two eyes. Dejectedly, he hung his head, but held his tongue as they walked into the camp. She would just have to see for her self.

Carter was waiting for them outside to escort them through the gate. Once inside, he had given them directions, then issued a harsh final warning to them both, not to speak to the prisoners, or loiter too long near the fence, lest they risk being detained.

With that final warning, he left them, and they began to meander their way toward the fenced in yard where, Carter had told them, they would find one or both of the brothers. As they reached it, they observed an older man with a limp, slowly pacing the perimeter of the fence. Clearly still not believing, what Mustang had tried to tell her, she all but looked through the man, searching the yard for the boys she had known.

It was not until the sound of the gate opening caused him to look in their direction, that she saw him, truly saw him, for the first time. The recognition that registered in his steel blue eyes relayed that, despite the years and the hardships that had heaped upon him, he still remembered her. She took an involuntary step back at the force of his gaze. Her hand, shaking badly, rose unconsciously to cover her mouth.

"That... That can't be... Alphonse...?"

She'd barely breathed his name, then as it escaped her lips, Winry did a most Un-Winry like thing...

Right there and then she fainted dead away.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.

AN: Well that's it for this installment, thanks again for your patience and thanks for the lovely reviews, they always make my day so please keep 'em coming!

A little historical background for those of you that are interested... The forced labor camp mentioned in the previous chapters was meant to portray a fictional rail depot and satellite camp of the very real Mittelbau-Dora camp network. This particular grouping of camps, situated mostly in underground bunkers built by the prisoners, was responsible for producing most of the V2 rockets that rained down terror on London in the latter part of the war. It was one of the last camps liberated (less than a month before Hitler committed suicide), and only about a tenth of the prisoners still remained there when it was, because unlike the guards of some other camps who saw the writing on the wall and chose simply to run, the SS and Gestapo officers running these camps remained until nearly the last minute, trying to carry out the order to evacuate or exterminate all remaining prisoners ahead of the allied advance.