A/N: I still haven't decided if I should hange this from rated T to M because this chapter is a little graphic, and I'm sure future ones may be, as well.

There is a part that my boyfriend said he thought was a bit gory, so I denoted it with an xx,

I do not own fullmetal alchemist.

Thick, gray smoke whirled from the burning rubble, temporarily stopping Roy and Havoc from rescuing Riza. It was difficult to see through the haze and the murky air irritated Roy's lungs.

Firefighters that had arrived to the site to search for victims were currently containing the fire on the massive burial site, while soldiers assisted in evacuating individuals staying at the soldier accomodations on base. Other soldiers left unaffected by the blast were dispatched to secure the premises and the territory occupied by the Ishvalans.

Havoc violently coughed into his fist. "Geez, I've been smoking since I was a kid and I can't even stand this smoke." He joked, trying to make light of the awful situation.

Roy didn't respond, instead he stared at the scene intently. He watched as families who were temporarily staying in Ishval were escorted in a single file to a separate shelter on base, gasping and weeping when they caught sight of bodies scattered along the ground.

Roy's nostrils took in the all too familiar smell of burnt flesh that lingered in the air. The smell had triggered him to recall images of the war: fire, blood, burning bodies, and the distant cries of the suffering. He cringed while musing on his memories of bloodstained sand and death, and again he found he had been tormented with a similar catastrophe. He fell into a mental pit of agony at the thoughts that were forever chiseled in his brain. He had hoped Ishval would never see another massacre, yet being in a country that had brutally purged people for it's own gratification, he was foolish for thinking so.

The explosion caused two of the buildings that housed soldiers to collapse, leaving a mess of concrete, shattered glass, and metal. The surrounding buildings, which were further from the scene, had all been heavily damaged, from giant cracks, to shattered windows, and debris was showered along the grounds. The soldier accomodations, a large facility that housed visiting military personnel, wasn't damaged, though people staying in the building were evacuated, so inspection for explosives could be conducted. The soldier accomodations were built on base because Ishvalans were not keen on having their hotels or land accommodate Amestrians, thus accommodations was built on military property.

Once the fire had been contained, Roy and Havoc quietly rummaged through the remains where Riza's quarters should be. Their hands becoming rough and abraded from moving scraps of what was once a building. Thoughts of his most precious subordinate lying dead in a heap of bloody, concrete crept in Roy's mind. The thought made him clench his fists tightly together, his nails digging into his ungloved palms. The Restoration of Ishval was supposed to be just that, not an expansion of the necropolis it already was. Ishval was a graveyard without headstones.

He felt useless, completely and utterly useless.

Havoc nervously gulped, as he reached into a dark crevice where he had cleared rubble. His course hand stroked something furry and he quickly removed the surrounding debris around the thing. His eyes widened when he discovered a bloody black and white dog. Hayate. He was amazed that the animal was still alive and he thanked whatever deity could be thanked that Hawkeye's furry companion made it. Havoc tore through the concrete, if Hayate is here… After seeing nothing but slate and the occasional crimson, his eyes finally perceived her long primrose yellow tresses.

"Chief!"

Roy rushed at the call of his name, occasionally stumbling over. He felt his face contort when he discerned Hawkeye's limp body uncomfortably stretched across a jagged mound of debris. She was a treasure, buried in her own concrete grave. It was a morbid sight, yet he felt relief seeing her chest rise and fall rhythmically although jaggedly. She was covered in blood, but still warm, still breathing, and unconscious. Havoc had already lifted much of the debris, but the large slab of concrete pinning her legs down was a problem. Roy jumped into a cleared area, shattered glass crunched under his boots. He placed both hands on the large concrete and transmuted it into its original form, water and fine powdered clay and lime.

Once they had pulled Riza to safety, the two men carefully trudged through the wreckage; Roy held Riza's limp form and Havoc carried a whimpering Hayate. Roy glanced around the ruins, noticing the rescue mission for other victims caught in the blast continued. He watched his fatigued comrades zealously hunting for the wounded and painfully hunting for the fallen.

"Havoc, take the Captain. I'm going to stay and help with what I can," he commanded, still surveying the area.

"I can stay here and-" Mustang held his hand up to silence Havoc. The smoker sighed and placed Hayate on the ground before lifting up Hawkeye from Roy's grasp.

"Take her to the infirmary," Roy placed the bloody dog on top of the unconscious woman and shot Havoc an exasperated look, "Quickly!"

"Yes, Sir!" Havoc rushed to headquarters, taking the military issued car they arrived in.

Mustang stepped over the mess around him and approached rescue workers frantically searching through the wreckage, "What's the situation?" he asked while several of the men quickly stood up to salute.

"Sir, only fourteen casualties have been found" one young worker joylessly said. Roy nodded and began helping the men search through the rubble. The rough skin on his hands were continuing to abrade with every object he moved. He couldn't risk transmuting the concrete into dust like he did earlier, the dust could suffocate living victims that were still buried.

xx

His eyes recognized a fleshy appendage jammed between debris, a hand. Two soldiers helped him uncover the body, or what was left of it. The color drained from Roy's face, leaving his face pallid and expressionless. No matter how many people he's killed or has seen been killed, he would never get used to seeing dead people he could have saved. Roy struggled with a plethora of "if only's" that could have helped him avoid this mess. If only he made the base safer, if only he ensured better protection, if only he had regular inspections, if only… He watched as the workers veiled the corpse with a shroud.

xx

He began to search again when a blue steel door caught his eye. Carved into the metal door was a transmutation circle, it was a pentagram, with a crescent moon at the top point of the star and suns in the remaining points, and through the center of the circle was a cross with a serpent wrapped around it. The transmutation was completely foreign to Roy and his eyes widened in realization, a bomb didn't cause the explosion, alchemy did.

He commanded two soldiers nearby to help him take the heavy door back to headquarters; the men looked bewildered by the order but complied.

010101

Scar pulled over his tan cloak and smoothed out the sleeves making his exit through the doorway. He and Major Miles were the only individuals remaining in the conference room, the other soldiers and generals had left earlier to reunite with their families. Miles cleared his throat loudly, causing his ally to stop in his tracks.

"Where will you go? Miles questioned.

Scar bore his gaze into Miles, "To stop the culprits before they attack our people." His jaw clenched tightly, "If these soldiers who have weapons can't protect themselves, I'm not sure our people stand a chance."

"You know Priest Aatu and several soldiers have been sent to guard the city. Will you not wait for Mustang to return?" He asked, lacing his fingers behind is back.

Scar uncharacteristically smirked at the question, "I have no reason to wait for him."

Both Ishvalan men walked down the hall of the building, their footsteps echoed in the eerily empty passageway, though the silence was short lived. They stood perplexed at the sight before them, Mustang, who was accompanied by two unfamiliar soldiers, carried a large metal door through the entryway of the building. The raven-haired general regarded his bewildered red-eyed comrades staring quizzically, "Miles, Sc-Brother" he uttered the names loudly, and the men followed him into his office.

The heavy door was set onto his underlings' desks, which were all joined together at the center of the office. Mustang waved the other unfamiliar soldiers off and to his surprise, Breda, Fuery, and Catalina loomed in the office entry.

"General Mustang, Fuhrer Grumman has dispatched soldiers from Eastern Headquarters. Their arrival is due at 0500 hours," Fuery reported from his position in the doorway.

"Thank you, Lieutenant!" Roy wearily exclaimed.

"What's the meaning of this?" Miles queried, directing his vision to the door. Once he tore his gaze from the door he noticed Mustang's untidy appearance. He was covered in grime, his uniform disheveled and splotched with blood, and his hair mussed, black bangs damp from sweat was sticking to his forehead.

"When I first surveyed the site, I thought it was a bomb that caused the explosion, but then I found this," He pointed at the transmutation circle on the door.

Miles gaped and his eyebrows furrowed, "The radicals are using alchemy?"

"We can't blame the radicals just yet, but it seems we do have a Kimblee impersonator. Though the transmutation circles are different and this person seems to be a bit of an amateur," he sneered.

Scar's features became tense at the mention of the man who murdered his family. While he endured those who killed his people during the war, he still held a tenacious hatred for Kimblee. He continued silently staring at the transmutation circle, trying to decipher the unfamiliar symbols.

"That explosion didn't look like the work of an amateur" Miles retorted.

"No, but drawing transmutation circles on a door is," Roy countered. He took a small black book out of his coat pocket and began tracing the transmutation circle, "Kimblee had his transmutation circles on the palms of his hands and could cause explosions from a distance. If this person had to etch this into the door it means he couldn't use his alchemy the same way Kimblee did and-"

"It became a suicide mission?" Miles interrupted, the other soldiers who were listening to the exchange gasped, "But why would they attack the barracks?" Miles questioned as he walked over to the large window overlooking the courtyard of headquarters.

"No," Scar started, "A person who possesses such deadly alchemy wouldn't waste their time, blasting living quarters."

"Then, this was just a warning." Miles added, trying to make sense of the events. "The culprit is still out there," he stated, though it sounded more like a question.

Silence dawned in the room until Scar spoke again.

"The Xing Princess May Chang used her alchemy from a distance. This person must have as well." All attention was now on Scar, "What side of the building was the door located on?" he queried.

"What do you suppose?" Mustang was now the one asking questions. He rested his chin in the nook between his thumb and index finger, pondering several possibilities for the attack. Whatever the reason he would punish them, not only for attacking his soldiers, but they would suffer unimaginable consequences for injuring Riza.

"In order to activate their transmutation circle, they need to see it. Depending on the location of the door, we could find out where they attacked from." Truthfully, Scar didn't care about Amestrians dying. In actuality, part of him still believed they deserved an ill fate for murdering his people. Though he believed if Amestrian soldiers were attacked, his people would be next and he wouldn't let his people suffer again. He would stop the problem himself if he had to.

"The door faces the south on the west side of base." Breda announced.

Roy frowned and placed the book back in his coat pocket, "Miles, I need you to set up a meeting with the generals at 9 AM tomorrow morning. We'll need to report our findings." Roy turned to his other subordinates in the room, "Catalina, check on Captain Hawkeye and relieve Havoc. Fuery and Breda, inspect all buildings accessible to the public. Report if you find any more transmutation circles. I also expect you meet the soldiers arriving at 0500 hours." He finally turned to Scar. The man who had tried to take his life before, it felt bizarre that he had now grown to trust him more than some soldiers in military, "Looks like I'll be joining you."

010101

Despite the scorching temperatures of the desert during the afternoon, nightfall was bitterly cold. Roy clenched his overcoat shut with his fist and draped his arm ahead of him, shielding his face from the gust of wind, and the occasionally blinding sand particles assailing his face. Scar trudged in a similar position, the tail of his cloak whiffling behind him. The wind and low temperatures on this particular night had been much worse than most nights, making travel especially difficult. After a few months of reconstructing Ishval, many adequate roads had been built, however, the men found themselves trailing in the sand, as directed by an Ishvalan elderly woman who had seen an unidentified person walk in the direction that split away from inhabited territory.

"This wind is terrible." Roy complained, becoming more aggravated as the wind picked up. "First we deal with immortal monsters and now some deranged alchemists detonating buildings…" He grumbled loudly, though he received no response. He admitted he was sharing a lot more of his thoughts with Brother, than he ever wanted to, but he was accustomed to venting out loud with Hawkeye at his side. His mind returned to his injured Captain, he couldn't face her without finding the person who injured her. He felt guilty that she was harmed, if he had let her stay at work a brief moment longer, she would still be walking alongside him.

Scar tried to disregard the Flame Alchemists irritating complaints, but the man did not restrain his rambling. Brother certainly did not need Mustang's help, he could surely take on any alchemist on his own, and more than likely the man alongside him would only get in his way. Scar needed to find a way to get the Flame Alchemist leave him behind.

"Mustang," Scar said aloud, "I can't tell you what to do, but your people may be attacked again in your absence."

Roy began to slow down, but still trying keep pace with the man a few meters in ahead of him. It was true that he'd been so caught up in punishing the culprits for the attack earlier, that he didn't think about the possibility of another one. "I-"

Scar interrupted him, "I can take care of this. Protect your people."

Roy wanted to argue. Scar shouldn't tell what to do, he was a general after all. As much as he hated to admit it, Brother was right.

Roy stopped walking.

"Right… I'll leave this to you then."

Scar also halted and the men stared at each other for a few moments, the wind blowing more rapidly now, their faces were pelted with the small granular particles of the desert. The gaze ended as Scar turned back to his path and continued to head in the direction they were directed to.

010101

Roy was relieved to see the base was unscathed when he returned, and he immediately made a trip to the infirmary. Stopping by the front desk, he used his charming smile to coax the nurse to direct him to Riza's room. He continued down the long hall, the dim light flickering above his head. He knew he arrived at the right place when he found the tall blond smoker, standing guard in the hall.

"Chief!" Havoc saluted, taken aback by his superior's bedraggled appearance. "Rebecca is helping Hawkeye bathe before she relieves me," he perversely grinned. He braced himself for a scolding by his superior, expecting he would not be too happy about the insinuation when he mentioned Hawkeye be bathed by Rebecca. To his surprise, Roy's dark countenance hadn't changed. Under the poor lightning the dark circles around his eyes were much more prominent.

"Is she alright?" he queried, trying to sound indifferent but the anxiety in his voice didn't go unnoticed. Havoc grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck, he didn't enjoy being bearer of bad news.

Both men hadn't noticed the footsteps that came around the corner.

From his clipboard, Dr. Marcoh read aloud, "I removed shards of sharp concrete and glass embedded in her arms. Her tibia and fibula in both legs were fractured in several places. She also suffered a minor concussion. She'll be off of active duty for 9-12 weeks." Unfortunately, the philosopher's stone couldn't be used to heal her legs since it was completely consumed to restore Mustang's vision and Havoc's ability to walk.

The older man smiled at Roy, but immediately frowned when he noticed Roy's somber expression. "She was really lucky, you know"

Averting his eyes to the small window on the door, he mouthed 'I know.' Through the small window he stared at the silhouette of Riza and Rebecca behind a curtain in the room. "You should probably get some sleep, General Mustang. You won't do your Captain any good looking like that," he pulled a small bottle of pills from the pocket of his white coat, and handed it to Roy, "These should help you with your sleep."

"Thank you," his obsidian eyes stared at the capsules in the clear bottle.

Marcoh smiled, it was obvious to him that Roy had been lacking sleep. He wasn't unfamiliar with the notion of being haunted by the ghosts of Ishval. Though he didn't serve in the war, he was equally as guilty for taking the lives of numerous Ishvalan people.

Rebecca walked out momentarily after, she flinched when she saw Roy, but gave him a warm smile. Roy walked in Riza's small hospital room, the bland white walls were overbearing. He made a mental note to have the hospital rooms repainted when they weren't in this dire situation.

Riza was seated in a gurney, gauze wrapped around her arms and forehead. She wearily scrutinized him, "Sir, are you alright?" she asked, somewhat gargling her words, disoriented from the medication. She didn't attempt to stow away her worry and continued to cast her gaze on Roy as he flopped into the chair next to her.

Typical, he thought, even at her worst, she always put him before herself. "How are you feeling?" he asked, changing the direction of the conversation away from him. He knew that she wouldn't fall for it, but he didn't want to talk about himself and hoped she wouldn't press on. His eyes traced along her small form, perched on the gurney. He felt a pang of guilt and contrition, when his gaze wandered over her legs, concealed by thin linen sheets, he remembered their temporarily crippled state.

He quickly turned to her face, hoping she didn't notice his wandering eyes. To his dismay she was also staring at the thin fabric rumpled over her legs dejectedly. He felt his throat dry up. In the many years he had known Riza, it was rare to see her in such a pitiful state.

"I'm sorry." She uttered, her expression quickly reverting to it's usual calm demeanor. It was futile, they both knew she was trying to hide her woe.

He felt angry at the two simple words and wondered how even after being medicated and temporary paralyzed she could easily put her duty over her own well being.

"Don't." He snapped, more forcefully than he intended. "There's no reason to be."

"Sir, If I-" Her voice quivered, and her eyes moistened from tears she withheld, "How am I going to protect you like this?" She gripped the sheets in her fists, frustrated with her pathetic state. She wasn't sure if it the medication was or the swirl of emotions she couldn't contain that was at fault for making her so straightforward.

"Captain," he spoke soothingly, "It's only temporarily." He untangled her grasp from the sheets and their eyes met for the first time since he walked in the room. "I'll be extra cautious," there was a hint of humor in his speech, "I'd be stupid to put myself in a dangerous situation without my excellent bodyguard to protect me from my own stupidity and machismo." He laughed, relieved when a small smile appeared on her face.

"You're right. You would be stupid to put yourself in danger." She stated in a serious manner, though a ghost of a smile adorned her face.

Roy exaggeratingly gasped and feigned offense at her remark, "Captain, I would never!"

She eased back, leaning onto the wall the bed was against. She stared at the bright lights on the ceiling. Though she was still worried about Roy, she found herself at much more ease than she had when she awoke from her unconscious state. Roy had a knack for comforting her, even in her most vulnerable state. She held back a laugh when she saw him slumped in the chair asleep shortly after their talk. She peeled the sheets from her body and with her sharp aim, successfully draped it over him albeit it was uneven and drooping on one side.

Dr. Marcoh had instructed her to stay conscious for a few hours to avoid falling into a coma from her concussion. She picked up the book Rebecca had brought her and read the title embossed on the hardcover of the book, 'An Unfortunate Seduction.' Her friend had a strange preference in books. She was hesitant, but flipped through the book's crisp pages anyway.

Riza flinched when she heard a snore from the chair next to her, but couldn't help but smile. Roy was still in a heavy slumber.

010101

It had been miles since Scar had seen any type of civilization after he departed to pursuit the culprits. He was beginning to wonder if the elder Ishvalan had sent him in the right direction since he was the only living entity for miles. His doubts of his directions were confirmed when in the distance he spotted an unfamiliar shelter. A dim light shone through the windows of the small shack. Interesting, he thought, he'd never seen that before.

He was cautious of his surroundings, almost crawling on the ground to avoid unwanted attention. He softly padded to the shack going unnoticed. What appeared to be a shack in the distance was actually the size of a small home.

He was sure he could take on any enemy that challenged him, but he couldn't make a foolish mistake by barging into the shelter.

His chance came when the front door of the small house squeaked open. He peered around the corner to see a man smoking, mindlessly kicking the sand he stood on. Brother slowly crept behind him and clapped his large hand over the man's face, successfully restraining him in place. The man squirmed in his grasp and even resorted to kicking to no avail. Scar splayed his fingers over the man's face and using his powerful alchemy he wounded the man enough to put him into shock. The man slumped to the ground. He was successful. He couldn't kill the enemy yet he still needed information.

He slipped through the opened door quietly. The small house was in poor condition, the curtains were tattered, books were strewn across the floor, and the floorboards creaked beneath his steps. From another room he heard faint music. He followed the sound and found a phonograph playing music on an escritoire and a man slumped over in a chair asleep.

Scar pushed the man on the ground and he immediately woke up.

"Please don't kill me, I–I-I can help you!" the man cried on the ground, flailing his arms.

"Who are you?" Scar spoke indifferently. The man let Scar tie him with a rope he found nearby. He knew the man didn't cause the explosion, he was too brainless and panicky.

"I can't tell you!" The man shouted, only irritating the Ishvalan that was restraining him.

"Who caused the explosion?" Scar asked, and the man shrunk in his intense glare.

"I'll only tell you, if you promise you won't kill me!"

Scar nodded and the man eased.

"Everyone here is in great danger! There's this really horrible group that are revolting against the military. Their ringleader is-"

A loud bang thundered in the room and warm blood splattered on Scar's face.

A/N: I wasn't going to continue with this but there were many people who really enjoyed the first part of this and wanted me to continue, so I will. Thank you to everyone who commented, it was very much appreciated.

If there is anything I should correct or you felt anyone was out of character don't be afraid to let me know.

Feedback is very much appreciated!