Disclaimer in previous chapters. Please see Author's Notes at the end.

- x -

"I explained everything completely, she made her own decision."

Al gave the doctor an unamused look before wearily accepting the offered seat on the edge of the examination table. He bowed his head, starting to slip the sling off as Dr. Patterson hurried forward to help, and his right hand was lightly swatted.

"Your neck," the doctor reminded him, almost in a pained voice. "It's miracle enough you didn't break it. Leggo."

Alphonse released the sling without argument, loosening his collar instead as the thick cotton strap supporting his left arm was gently pulled over his head. "If I was going to yell about it, I've have done it earlier," he finally pointed out, straightening and unbuttoning his shirt one-handed. "You can expect nii-san will. Sometimes I think you confuse the two of us."

He was, of course, not talking about his neck.

"Sometimes there's a good reason to," the doctor retorted, staring at his shoulder in such a pointed manner Al finally rolled his eyes, readjusting his left arm in his lap.

Okay, so maybe he was behaving a bit like his older brother. "I've only put it in the sling when I've been walking around-"

"Which has been every waking second you've had since you fell," Patterson finished, folding the sling and plopping it down beside him on the table. "I expected better of you, Alphonse."

He scowled half-heartedly at the doc as he circled behind him, rubbed his hands together to warm them, then slipped Al's shirt off his left shoulder and gently examined the swollen joint. Despite the doctor's care, Al still hissed. It hurt much worse now than it had when he'd first woken, and it was extremely swollen. It still moved, though he couldn't support any weight with his left arm, and the idea of having to fight with it was enough to make him want to chew the rest of the pain pills he'd been given on the spot.

There was a difference right there. Ed was a hell of a lot better with pain than he was.

Having pain, being a pain-

"I expected you to bring it up earlier," Patterson continued, from somewhere over his left shoulder.

Al shook his head, stopping when two hands gently trapped his skull.

"Stop. Moving your neck."

"It's fine, honest. Hasn't been bothering me-" He yelped as two fingers bore down into the joint of his neck and his left shoulder. "Until now!"

"You probably haven't noticed because of those nice little red pills I gave you," the doctor corrected him, slowly massaging out the tension he'd just caused. "That doesn't mean there's still not an injury there."

Al hmphed. That was probably true. They were the only thing that was letting him function as a normal human being. He never recalled seeing Ed with them, which meant they were probably pretty tame painkillers in comparison with what nii-san was usually prescribed, but they didn't make him tired.

"Let me guess. Something you designed in med school."

"Nope. A commercially available muscle relaxer, for once. You didn't qualify for the good stuff this time."

Al almost smiled. "Is that a good thing?"

"Most definitely."

The doctor worked his way slowly across his back, and Al let his head droop forward a little. It hurt, but in a good way of tense muscles relaxing. It reminded him a little of Sig, mashing the knots out of him the second time he'd trained with sensei.

Except Sig's hands were easily twice as big as Patterson's, so it didn't take him half as long.

"You're not going to ask?"

Al remembered this time not to shake his head. "Nope." No point. "I read her chart." Patterson tugged on his left arm slightly, and Al obligingly shifted it out of his lap onto the table. "Surgery to pin her hip is too invasive."

"The odds are especially bad, in her case," Patterson admitted, moving back towards the left shoulder. "Forty percent survival rate, and actually regaining mobility is in the tens."

"I know." It would have been a hell of a lot better if she'd just been seen immediately, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Her health had declined enough in the weeks she'd put it off that she was significantly weaker than she would have otherwise been. And with the internal bleeding already present, cutting into her would put too much strain on her heart.

Alchemically, of course, they could bind the calcium back together, but the bone was alive. They could always steal surface calcium and just coat over the bone, but a hip bone bore a significant amount of weight, and calcium wasn't steel. It wouldn't last.

Pinako was right. Repairing her with alchemy was close to human transmutation. Probably was, he allowed. Saying it was close to human transmutation was like saying someone bearing a fully fertilized egg for a couple weeks was close to pregnancy. That said, he was pretty sure multiple treatments of layering calcium into the fissures, letting them heal, and layering over that would be the best fix. It wasn't human transmutation, but it would take weeks of repeated treatments.

And without seeing what you were doing, it was just about impossible. It was something no specialist in healing alchemy would dare to say would work.

It was something that probably was at the very edge of what the Tringums could do. Only there weren't Tringums anymore. There was just one, and he was as invisible as Franklin Sorn.

"I guess this is a rather dumb thing to ask, but are you going to respect her wishes?"

Al sighed lightly, letting his head dip lower as the doctor released a knot he hadn't know he had. " . . . yes."

"Will Edward?"

Now there was a ten million cenz question. "You'd have to ask him."

"I'm not that stupid," the doctor chided him. "Besides, I don't know that he'd honestly answer."

"He wouldn't honestly know." Could they watch Pinako go like they had their mother? Back then, there was nothing they could do. Now . . .

No one could bring back the dead, but she wasn't dead. Not yet. That was how Ed was going to look at it.

"Speaking of which, is there any hope that I'll be allowed to complete a follow-up before he's entirely healed?"

Probably not. Considering Mustang had sent him out to survey likely places to transmute a Philosopher's Stone in Amestris, it was either going to take him weeks, or he was going to find the right place and rack up a new list of ailments. "Depends if any new injuries he gets aggravate the old ones."

Patterson apparently had him where he wanted him, because he suddenly raised Al's left arm almost perpendicular to his shoulder. Al yelped again, but luckily he hadn't tensed, and Patterson stopped where he was, supporting the full weight of the limb.

"Relax-"

"I'm trying." If it was through gritted teeth, Patterson would forgive him the mutter.

"How about you? Are your clandestine missions for the security of our country finally finished?"

The doctor poked him in the spine in an effort to force it to relax, and Al let his breath out slowly. "No, you can't re-admit me as an inpatient."

The doc chuckled. "It was worth a try. I take it that means you were successful in getting a lead?"

Al let his jaw relax as the doctor ever so slowly worked his way around the shoulder with an expert hand. "No. They really were his guardians, but they haven't seen him in a long time."

The doctor hummed, angling the arm ever so slightly higher. Al almost turned his head to watch, but remembered at the last second, and he felt a sudden pinching deep in the muscles of his shoulder. The doctor angled the arm just a bit further, and it eased off as suddenly as it had come. "Sorry about that. So . . . no help, then?"

The doctor lowered his arm slowly, and Al was surprised to find the pain was significantly less. "Wow. And no, none." Patterson didn't really know Blane, so there was no point in telling him what they'd said regarding the 'hero' of Jannai. But it still bothered him that Madelyne Price had so firmly believed that he would have gotten the same impression of the man that she did. Which he hadn't.

"Better?"

"Yeah, lots. What'd you do?"

Patterson looped back around to the front, bracing a hand on his shoulder and picking up his left arm by the elbow. "The sling isn't taking the full weight of the limb off your shoulder. You're hiking it up and keeping it tense. And that is why-" and he slowly elevated the elbow "-you should still be in a bed instead of wandering the streets."

Al tried to relax as the doctor put his arm through extremely mild physical therapy. Slight rotations, nothing too demanding. He knew wandering around with the weight of his arm dangling from the pulled and torn muscles wasn't good for it, and the doc had a good point - he'd be screaming at nii-san right now if their roles were reversed.

But unlike his brother, he had a good reason to be wandering around. Russell Tringum was well and truly missing. The body of Fletcher Tringum was still at large. And it was fully possible that an array for creating homunculi - a human transmutation circle - was ready or had already been used somewhere in the city.

He'd already checked out the city below Central, briefly, which always had a guard posted ever since the last invasion. Mustang apparently didn't see any need to take that particular pacifier from Parliament, probably because it was so cheap to do, and the guy hadn't seen or heard anything. And he would have. The remains of Lab Five were slowly being excavated, and he knew that was being overseen by Hakuro and Armstrong. Alex would have contacted them by now if they'd found another tunnel.

And, as Ed had so eloquently said, he wasn't going to find it in a hospital room.

"Sorry, doc. Too much to do."

"You don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to do any of it."

Al dipped his head - slightly - in acknowledgement. "I know. It's just . . ." It occurred to him that Patterson might not actually know. "Russ sort of took off."

The doctor continued what he was doing, but he didn't look happy. "Define 'took off'."

Al grimaced. "Maria took her eyes off him for a few hours and he left the house. He hasn't been back yet."

Patterson took a deep breath and held it a long time before he released it through his teeth. "I thought Mustang was keeping an eye on him-"

"He was. He tried," Al said quickly. "He just . . . walked out of the house, while guests and everyone else was there. No one really noticed, we thought he'd be back."

Patterson finally released Al's arm, putting it back gently in his lap. "Dammit," he finally swore. "Do you think-"

That he somehow had found his brother's body? Or found the alchemist that was working with Franklin Sorn in the hopes of getting some Incomplete Stone? A new thought occurred to Al, and he closed his eyes as it developed. Or he was going to find Sorn and let him transmute the Stone, if only to steal it so he could bring his brother back.

Russell had been on Mustang's list for some reason, after all. He had no doubt it had nothing to do with the assassination attempts or the chimera, but it did hint that Russ wasn't flying as straight and true as he appeared. If push came to shove, if a Stone was presented to him, or even just the opportunity to make one -

"I think he's in a lot of pain, and we need to find him and help him," Al answered. "If that means my shoulder hurts, that's fine with me."

The doctor frowned at him. "Alphonse, listen to-"

There was a sudden knock on the door, and a brown-haired head poked in. "There's a call for you, doctor," she murmured, flashing Al a grin. He smiled back politely, watching her duck back out even as the phone by the exam table rang.

Patterson glared at the phone openly for a second before he walked around the table. "Excuse me - and don't get up," he added, picking up the receiver. "This is Dr. Patterson."

Al politely turned away, idly looking over his shoulder. It was still just as swollen as before, though it did feel quite a bit better. There wasn't much bruising, which he found odd. He still had no memory of landing, just of hearing the floor slap down and then seeing his brother.

Hopefully Franklin would keep making the traps that way. Nonlethal. He considered himself at the head of the line that never wanted to see another Philosopher's Stone transmuted, but he couldn't help but selfishly hope it was a different survey group that found Sorn, and not Ed.

If nii-san was forced into another fight like the one with Irving-

"That's quite impossible."

Al glanced back up at the doctor, more surprised by his tone than anything else, and found Patterson had also been looking at him.

"No, that won't be necessary."

The doctor turned his back briefly, and Al toyed with the buttons on his shirt. No telling if doc was done yet, but if he was, it meant he was free to go again. Where hadn't he looked . . . ?

Well, he hadn't been back to Russ's place yet, but he knew damn well that First Lieutenant Ross probably hadn't slept a wink since Russ escaped her and would be lying in wait there. He winced slightly as he realized Russ wasn't the first alchemist she'd lost track of. Of course, they were all grown now, but oddly, the danger was almost the same-

"Perfectly." The phone was placed gently back in the cradle, and Al glanced over again to see the doctor adjusting the stethoscope around his neck. "Sorry about that," and his usual tone was back as though nothing had happened.

Al gave him a politely concerned look. "Trouble?"

The doctor frowned deeply. "Incompetent lab technicians," he explained, moving to the glass cabinet by the door. "The last group we hired seems to have forgotten everything they ever knew about keeping equipment sterile."

Yes, growing the wrong bacteria on cultures could definitely be a problem. "This wasn't the same group that processed any of the bloodwork on Fletcher . . . right?"

Patterson gave him a strained smile over his shoulder, unwrapping a syringe. "I'm afraid not. I almost wish they had been," he added quietly, quickly palming a bottle. "So, I was meaning to ask you, if you have no leads . . . where are you planning to go?"

Al relaxed a little at the familiar line of questioning. "Tell you what, doc. You take a nap, and so will I."

Patterson turned with a wry look. "What would you do if I agreed?"

"Take a nap."

Patterson indicated that he wanted Al's other arm, and he watched the doctor swab the inside of his elbow. "That's almost tempting enough to take you up on," Patterson admitted. "Nurses gave me a couple hours last night. I take it I don't look any better?"

"Not much." Al made a face at the sting of the drugs. "So now I qualify for the good stuff, huh?"

The doctor tossed the used syringe at the special trash can used for medical waste. "It might make you a little loopier than the pills, but it'll prevent you from tensing back up." He pulled a pen from his inner coat pocket, making a note on the chart. "Promise me that if you don't make any progress by dinnertime, you will go lie down in a bed and remain there for at least seven hours."

Al slipped his shirt back on without moving his left shoulder or his neck, and earned an approving sort of look. "I promise."

"And promise me that if you find Russell, you'll let me know."

Al dipped his chin slightly. "I know. Ribs."

Patterson sighed, then shook his head. "I should have sedated you," he finally decided aloud. "I am truly an idiot."

"Nah. You're a good guy." Al finished with the buttons and eased himself off the exam table. "If I find him, I'll bring him here."

The doctor nodded his appreciation, looping the sling back over Al's neck. They maneuvered his left arm into it easily, and then Patterson sighed and patted his good shoulder.

"Good luck. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

- x -

He watched her pace back and forth, hand straying to her bracelet as walked the short platform. It was fairly crowded, which didn't afford her much room, and after the eighth or ninth pass, he gently caught her elbow.

"Is something bothering you, Mrs. Blane?"

She flashed him a quick smile, rigid as he released her arm. "Lily. And . . . trains make me nervous," she answered with a polite tilt of her head. "Always have, even when I was a little girl."

Russell Tringum raised an eyebrow, but it was just a motion. To be honest, he didn't really care, except she was starting to attract attention. And it was readily obvious why the trains were being delayed, seeing as pretty much the entire crowd was a royal blue. He could barely look anyone in the eye and not see an Amestrian soldier.

And even if Mustang wasn't looking for him that hard yet, he would be fairly soon. If he was recognized, or stopped –

"It's just they're so big, you know? It's frightening to think of yourself hurtling along so quickly with only a metal box between you and the ground . . ." She trailed off with a little laugh. "Foolish, I know. And I'm sure you hardly care."

He caught it, but just barely, and refocused on her face. "Of course I do," he replied. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

"Am I making you nervous?" She immediately sat beside him on the bench, her slim hands twisting into her lap, before he could even answer. "I do apologize."

He shook his head with a slightly more heartfelt smile. Well, at least she was sitting. "Please don't. Apologize," he added quickly, as she started to gather herself to stand. Lily Blane gave another little laugh, and he shook his head at her. She was pretty wound up. "Was there a train accident, or something?"

She shook her head quickly, dark hair creeping from the neat pile on her head. "No. I just . . . well, lived in Jannai. It's a very small town."

Avram, too, had warned him that Jannai wasn't much to look at. Which made it all the more likely that Franklin could hide there. He was well loved by the people of the town, according to Avram, and they would be suspicious of any soldiers trying to track him down. Particularly if they learned of the accusations.

He and Fletch had grown up in a small town too, before their father's research had dragged them to Central, and then his death to Mugwar's mansion. He could understand how some people could still not be friendly with technology.

"Do you know how they work?"

She gave him a questioning look, so he gestured. "Trains," he added. "Sometimes when you understand how something works, it ceases to be as surprising."

Her lips turned upwards into perhaps the first smile he'd ever really seen her give him. The difference was staggering. "Or as frightening. You're a very polite man, Mr. Tringum. I-" But then she broken off, and somehow the smile was duller. "I know that steam is involved to drive pistons."

He nodded. "That's exactly right." Explaining the trains – simple as they were – did seem to soothe her, and he found an odd sort of comfort in it.

Fletch would have done it.

"Good to see you two getting on!" Russell tensed as a strong hand clapped down on his shoulder, completely oblivious of the discomfort it was causing his ribs. "Sorry about that. Just needed to make a quick call. First time I can remember the trains in Central haven't been running as scheduled."

Russ nodded, clenching his jaw as his back was strongly patted several times. "And the connecting train?"

"Also delayed, longer than this one!" The energetic man came around to stand beside his wife, mercifully stopping the beating, and Russ rolled his spine slightly in relief. "But we should make it."

Russ just nodded, letting his gaze wander the blue sea in front of him as Avram exchanged a few quiet words with his wife. She jumped up immediately, apparently intent on some task, and Blane replaced her as his benchmate.

"Calm down. You look almost as nervous as she does!" He said it as if it was a joke, but Russell knew better.

"I wasn't counting on this."

"Neither was I," the other alchemist admitted in a lower, but still pleasant voice. "Still, though, we'll catch the trains. We'll find him." He nodded, mostly to himself, and heaved a large sigh. "That boy is going to be the death of me."

Russ just shrugged a shoulder noncommittally. They'd gone over why Avram was so sure that was where Franklin had gone – or would eventually end up. It was going to be a waiting game either way, and Russell had also explained that the Prime Minister took a special interest in all his State Alchemists, and a search for him would be begun as well.

Particularly in light of what had happened to Fletch's body.

Another pang hit him, hard enough to prick his eyes. He'd miss the funeral.

He'd miss his little brother's funeral.

Not that he'd attended his father's, refusing to travel for it. And their mother had passed away while he and Fletcher were working for Mugwar. He hadn't gone to her funeral either, and hadn't let Fletcher go. Funerals were pointless ceremonies. Once a person was dead, they were dead, and staring at their body was little more than staring at any other body that didn't know you were looking. Any other pile of carbon and sodium and lime and dozens of other ingredients, all assembled into looking like someone you had loved.

Which was exactly what was lying in the hospital morgue right now. No different than if it was his real body.

He wasn't sure the Elrics knew he knew that. If they did, they'd be the first wave to come hunt him down. In fact, he was counting on it. But it would also mean that funeral would be held without the most familiar people in attendance. If he was wrong . . . if Al was right . . . then what did it mean? Would Fletch know he wasn't there? And even if he did, would he understand?

"I'm sorry, son. That was a terrible thing to say," Avram murmured suddenly in his ear, and Russ scrubbed his face quickly to get rid of his expression. "We'll get them back. We'll get them both back."

Four enlisted chose that particular moment to walk directly by their bench, and Russ left his eyes averted. They seemed to pause for a heartstopping moment, but then he heard the sound of a cigarette carton opening, and he realized what they were doing.

"Yep. But you didn't hear it from me."

"We still haven't heard it from you."

"Very funny. Okay, listen. The blonde ice queen? The general from the north? She's here. Here on this platform."

". . . here?"

A match flared to life, and Russ caught a whiff of sulfur.

"You were wondering what the hell we were doing? That's what." The match was shaken out. "We're all carrying our snow gear. Get it?"

They moved on, out of the little alcove – and a lee in the light wind – and Russ stared at their backs a moment in surprise. Mustang had declared war on Drachma? After all that?

Avram was watching them too, a sharp look on his face. "Huh," he commented mildly. "Well, I guess that explains the delays then, doesn't it, my boy."

- x -

The blonde wasted no time in preparing another transmutation, but it was simply too little too late.

Almost regretfully, he pressed his hands to the newly-burned plaques, concentrating equally on the transmutations. This time Full Metal would have warning, he would see the light of the alchemical reactions, and he wouldn't have any choice but to deal with the most immediate one first.

He watched the light of the alchemical energy race towards his target, two bursts head on with two more moving to encircle the other alchemist. Exactly as he expected, the professor hit the ground. He would start constructing a thick wall of the underrock-

Franklin Sorn blinked as the transmutation being guided by his right hand – jolted, was the closest feeling. Like he was losing control of the reaction. He broke concentration and in seconds the other alchemist had wrestled control of some of the material from him. No matter. Full Metal didn't have time to counter the other, and Franklin watched a veritable sea of earth – all but a four by four little island of grass – swell up around the other alchemist, rising twenty feet into the air, then crashing down on top of him.

It was literally tons of dirt and rock. Even if Edward Elric tried to build himself a stone shield out of the paltry minerals he was able to wrest control over, it wouldn't be sufficient to protect him.

Killed and buried with the same move. Franklin watched the dirt settle, frowning at the cloud of dust billowing into the air. The attack had done damage to the array, too. Nothing that couldn't be fixed, but it meant he was going to have to hide from the advanced party that would be dispatched to check it out.

And the car, too. Franklin looked it over for a moment before deciding the best thing to do would be to bury it as well. Quick, easy, and out of the way.

He picked up the two rings of plaques, running through them until the arrays were in the order he wanted before placing them back on the car itself. The change in his position brought the enormous mound of soil back into view, and Franklin watched it for a moment. It didn't do anything besides continue to settle. No alchemical light.

Not that he expected any. It was so easy to beat a superior opponent if you just didn't stop to talk. Still . . .

He wondered if the feeling was disappointment or just adrenaline, but he'd expected that to be –

Well, to be harder. That was Full Metal himself he'd just killed. Not that he was going to stay that way, but still. It wasn't like he was necessarily even any good at fighting-

And when did he start standing around thinking about it? Irritated at himself, Franklin quickly utilized the array, and crouched with it as the car was gently swallowed by the earth. He used the same array to sink the ground he'd disturbed, noting that it was harder than he'd thought to fish the grass out. Hmm. He could make a big flat stone to cover the area, that wouldn't necessarily alarm any advance parties-

There was an appreciative whistle. "That's pretty good."

He whirled around despite himself, the ring of wooden arrays clutched in his hand, and there, not three feet behind him, stood the Full Metal Alchemist. There wasn't a speck of dirt on him, and he looked none the worse for being crushed by tons of rock and dirt. How-

Oh boy.

He stumbled back, tripping over the mostly-sunk car, and Full Metal reached out with the automail and caught him by the collar. There was a flash of light, the tingle of energy, and Franklin flinched –

- and then he was released, and he continued to fall, landing flat on his butt on the roof of the car. His right hand clutched at the wet sand that was in his hands, instead of the rings of neat wooden arrays, and Full Metal gave him a tight smile.

"I always liked that you used arrays burned into wooden boards," he said conversationally. "Hardier than paper, still light, and each array designed to transmute through the wood substrate to whatever else it was you were trying to manipulate." He sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Usually they're attached with rings to your belt, but considering that last attack? Rather be safe than sorry."

All wood, Franklin realized with a jolt. He'd transmuted all the wood on his person into base elements.

They stared at each other a moment before Edward jerked his head. "Come on."

Franklin stood, almost expecting to be hit, but Elric never made a move towards him. Didn't need to, he thought bitterly. In a physical fight he knew the older man could easily defeat him.

It was just the alchemical one that had surprised him. Should have known, should have planned. The professor must have used arches or other support structures until he could tunnel out from the affected dirt, which is why it had still been settling. The tunnel had collapsed, but lasted long enough-

"Where?"

Full Metal brought his hands together and knelt, and Franklin jumped as the car shot out of the ground behind him. It landed heavily, the shocks groaning as the wheels settled on fully repaired, hard earth.

"Back to Central, of course. No use keeping the firing squad waiting."

Franklin just stared at him. Clearly Full Metal was trying to frighten him, he'd just expected the 'understanding' speech first. Wasn't he even going to ask . . .?

"Though I suppose we could make a detour first," Edward drawled after a moment. "Not letting you transmute the army does leave us the unfortunate problem of what to do with them."

. . . he was going to let him transmute the Stone?

"We'll head to West City first," Full Metal finally decided. "You called this army, and you're going to help defend them against it. I have serious doubts that paltry handful of soldiers you had ordered transferred are going to cut it."

Franklin continued to stare at him, keeping his face blank. It wasn't like Full Metal to show him all the cards, and if he knew that much-

Either he knew almost everything, or he was bluffing, and that was all he had.

This was like trying to stare down Roy Mustang.

"Get in," Edward finally ordered.

. . . no. It was too close. The Cretian army was an hour out, the advance party would be here in twenty minutes to check out that dust cloud. But using it in combat, untested . . .

Was there any choice?

"No." He pictured the arrays he would need in his mind's eye. The car was right behind him. Edward couldn't have given him better ammunition if he'd asked.

Full Metal raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you."

"I'm not going anywhere. I already told you, there's no time." He tilted his head to the side. "And you're right. West will get slaughtered if the army makes it to the city." That was a lie, of course. West was defending, so the personnel should be sufficient. It was truth that battle strategy wasn't his strong point, but from a purely scientific analysis, the defenders should be able to hold off five times their number.

But if Full Metal was convinced that it would take alchemists to save West . . .

Edward was unmoved. "I haven't heard a better idea yet."

Franklin just stared at him. Do I have to spell it out, he wondered? "Transmuting the army is the only way to save West."

Edward regarded him for a long moment. "Amestris gains a Philosopher's Stone. Drachma attacks from the north, Aerugo from the south, and both receive reinforcements from their neighbors. Even if you use the Stone to protect Amestris' borders, you can only be in one place at a time. Amestris is unable to defend against the combined force of her enemies, West falls."

Throughout the lecture, he had been balling his fists at his sides. His knuckles were brushing the metal body of the car.

It would be enough. It had to.

There was a bright crackle of light as he reshaped the car's door, configuring the delivery method for the oil, but suddenly he was flying through the air, and his experience in the bar caught up with him.

Full Metal had hit him.

He landed hard, picturing the next array he'd need, one for dirt, but Edward hadn't just hit him. The older man was pinning him with a knee in his chest, eyes wide in surprise, and he brought his human hand to his automail one –

Too slow. Two pillars of dirt shot out of the ground at angles on Franklin's right and left sides, crashing into each other above his stomach so forcefully that dirt splashed everywhere. Franklin turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut, analyzing the feeling.

Full Metal had leapt away. The pillars hadn't hit anything, or the trajectory of the debris would have been different.

He was too unfamiliar with this kind of linear transmutation. Too sluggish.

Franklin used the same array to cause pillars of earth to shoot up at seeming random around him, following a simple fractal design, as he scooted out from under the pillars and took his feet. Surrounded as he was, in a veritable sea of columns, he could slip to the edge while Full Metal struggled with the maze-

Alchemical light crackled beneath his feet, and every column crumbled.

Franklin did the only thing he could think – he ran. Without knowing where his opponent was, it was stupid to stay in the same place. He'd planned for being pinned, but now the trick was up. Edward knew he had another array on him, he'd figure out soon enough what it was made of and it would be destroyed as the wooden ones had been. He was so fast-

Just keep him transmuting. He was weak, weakened by Irving's amplifier and that last transmutation had been huge.

Just don't let him touch you.

The columns had collapsed not into mounds of dirt, but back into the ground, leaving the area open, and yet, even looking around, he didn't see Edward at all. He ducked immediately into the grass, hurrying in the same direction as the wind so it would hide the stalks he disturbed. Back toward the car, luckily, if he could get ahold of all that metal and oil there was nothing Full Metal could use to block him.

He stopped moving, keeping his bright red head down as he listened to the grass and his own breathing. He was far enough away from where he'd crouched, and he used the array to sense for vibrations in the dirt. After all, as powerful as he was, even Full Metal couldn't fly. Unfortunately, there were all manner of cracks and shifts and air pockets expelling themselves from all the activity. He concentrated for rhythmic ones, knowing they would be human-

Right behind him.

Franklin didn't turn this time. He just started sprinting in the opposite direction. Just stay out of reach. That was all he had to do.

A clap behind him, and then his feet were caught. Dissolving the Edward Elric-shaped heads that had fastened themselves mouth-first around his ankles was easy and nearly instant –

Nearly. Nearly instant wasn't fast enough.

He came from an unexpected direction, airborne, his automail transmuted into a blade, and Franklin realized it had never occurred to him that Mustang might have ordered the other alchemist to kill him, if it came to that. He had no arrays to handle atmosphere, and there would be no blocking in time. He closed his eyes and braced as best he could.

The slice caught him quite high, across his left collarbone and down his chest. It happened so suddenly, and the automail was so sharp, that it just tingled, long after his body had come to rest in the dirt. He heard Full Metal's feet hit the ground just over his left shoulder, and he dared to open his eyes and look over the damage.

A Philosopher's Stone of one was better than none at all. If he could still move, it could work-

But he found that there was no blood. The front of his shirt bore a single long slice, and the cord supporting the pouch full of coins had been neatly cut. The pouch itself had gone flying, and landed with a pleasant metallic ring a few feet to his right.

Full Metal had landed perfectly, automail still extended over him so that Franklin could see his own reflection in the blade. Once he was balanced, Edward straightened. A clap reduced his automail to an arm shape.

Again, needless transmutation. Franklin took the opportunity to make a grab for the pouch, but the back of his shirt was firmly caught and he was thrown – none too gently this time – back against the ground, hard enough to knock the wind right out of him.

He gasped, unable to do more than lie on his back like a fish while Full Metal circled him and picked up the pouch. The coins – with arrays neatly melted into their backs – were shortly transmuted into a lump of silver and tossed aside with the pouch. Franklin sat up when he could, dragging a knees up to his chest, until breathing became a little easier.

Edward was still standing, staring down at him with an unreadable look. "Please tell me you didn't get tattoos," he finally said. "I didn't bring a first-aid kit with me."

Meaning he would carve them off? Franklin could only continue watching him, still gasping. The dirt was too hard to draw an array, and Edward would be looking for him to do it. His professor hadn't given him anything like blood to use as ink, and even though he had chalk in his pocket the ground wasn't that hard.

And, unfortunately, he hadn't had the foresight to get an array tattooed. Even if he had, it would have been impossible to hide all the ones he'd need.

"Are you . . . going to kill me?"

Elric seemed to ponder the question for a moment, and Franklin managed to catch his breath and swallow.

"I haven't heard a better idea yet."

He knew an invitation to give Full Metal an excuse to spare him when he heard one, but –

But if it was that easy, he would have approached him long ago.

Elric seemed to see the hesitation in his eyes, and he chose to look away instead, toward the west. Seconds ticked by, and he said nothing.

He wouldn't stand there forever.

"You can't-" he started, then he backtracked. "It won't really be killing them."

Edward turned on him so sharply he flinched. "How, exactly, do you rationalize that?" Unlike his body movement, his voice was chilly and completely controlled.

For some reason, that irked Franklin. Clearly this was a show Full Metal was putting on, but for whom? For Mustang? Was he disobeying orders by talking to him, not taking him directly to West?

Ten minutes max before the forward guard got to that ridge.

"Because it won't happen." What he wouldn't give for his arrays, just so he could write the math on the back. "Once I have the Stone-"

"You'll what? Bring them back?"

He frowned at the interruption. "In a way, yes," he countered, pleased when Edward's eyes narrowed slightly. "You say that no one can bring back the dead, but you're wrong. You proved it yourself, actually."

Now he had the professor's attention, and he dared to get to his feet. Edward didn't know how close the enemy was, and if he was going to talk him into this, the array needed to be repaired before the advanced guard arrived.

"You'd only raise a homunculus. Trust me when I tell you it's not the same-"

"No. That way of thinking, of binding a soul to a body, it won't work. Well, it did in the case of your brother, but he was an exception," he hurried on. "Look. Haven't . . . you ever wondered if you could go back, and change something? Something that already happened?"

Edward just continued looking at him, and that was fine. At least he wasn't interrupting. "If you think of time as an observable effect of its own dimension, instead of a constant . . . force, if you will, then all you need is a large enough source of energy-"

Elric folded his arms, then his eyes widened. "So that's what that was . . ." he muttered. "The Gate research, the astronomy angle, our notes. . . I thought it was physics, but the equations-"

So he'd seen it. Well, of course he had, Franklin allowed. How else would Full Metal have found him? "Then you accept that time is a dimension in space as well?"

But Elric was a million miles away. If only he'd bothered to hoard just one of those emergency array coins in his pocket, he could have killed him then and there. "Time . . . damn, there was something . . ." Then his eyes widened. "You mean you want to use the Stone to travel through time?"

Franklin stifled his surprise that Elric was so accepting of the wildly alien idea. "Exactly. I can go back, with the cure, and then none of this will happen. The army will never move on Amestris, and I won't need to be here to transmute it. They won't really be dead."

Edward stared at him like he'd suddenly gone grey. "Are you serious?"

Franklin blinked, a little nonplussed. It was genius, clearly Full Metal had already come to some of the same conclusions he'd made, and he could prove every bit of it with math. "It'll work."

"No, it won't!" his professor exploded suddenly. "Time is relative to the observer, Franklin! Velocity equals distance traveled divided by time. How do you expect the Stone to . . . negate your physical relation to a dimension of space?"

Velocity equals distance traveled . . . divided by time. So Full Metal already had studied the subject as well? He tucked the equation away for digestion later. It didn't matter. Whatever it was, it would work with his own theories. That was the beauty of it. "It can't, any more than it could negate physical force." He licked his bottom lip. "But it can take me to a place outside of the dimension of time. You should know that. You wrote the book on it."

Some of the anger in the other alchemist's face was fading into thoughtfulness. ". . . you think the Gate is outside of time."

At this point, there was nothing to lose. "You proved that too. Alphonse emerged from that place exactly as he had been when he arrived. As far as he was concerned, there was no passage of time at all. Furthermore," he continued, before he could be interrupted, "in order to connect not only to this . . . world, we'll call it, and the other one you visited, where there's an exchange of energies, it would have to be outside time. Otherwise the energy exchange would be impossible."

Elric folded his arms, then his eyes narrowed. "Let's say you're right. The Gate is outside time, and while you remain there you are as well. Let's even say that allows the Gate to move freely in and out of time as it moves in and out of the first three dimensions. What do you think will happen when you leave?"

"I guess that depends on the beings that live there." Full Metal's eyes widened a little, and Franklin hurried on. "You covered them in your notes. I know that a Philosopher's Stone can be used to bargain with them. All it needs to do is 'pay' for them to spit me out in the right place. Now," he continued right on, lest he be interrupted again, "I know that they can't be trusted. They'll spit me out, but they may put me in my child body. They may not have another choice," he allowed. "And once I'm back in the timestream, it . . . might apply retroactively. I might forget what I've learned of the future."

Edward waited until he was sure the pause was long enough to speak. "So you're doing this knowing it will fail?"

Franklin shook his head. "I'm . . . hoping they don't notice until it's too late." He gestured to his camp, only fifty years to the north. "There's a material that alchemy can't affect, can't disassemble. It's a safe, and the Prime Minister-"

"-stole it from me," the professor said shortly. "You plan to take that with you-"

"- and put the information for the cure to a plague in it," he finished. "My father was a locksmith. So even if I don't remember anything, and I'm just a normal five year old with this box-"

"-your father will open it," Ed continued. "And give Jannai the cure to the plague that killed your parents."

"I've written the note so they'll know what it is. They can give it to Avram, or not," he added, "and prevent the plague. Which means I'll never become a State Alchemist, this army will never come here, and I'll never transmute them. So you see? They're not really dying. They'll be fine."

Edward nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Quite good, actually. Don't look so surprised," he added drily. "You're not the first person to theorize about time travel. There was a guy named Einstein in that other 'world' you mention so cavalierly. Crackpot, if you ask me, but he had a theory about this sort of thing.

"His theory goes, if you do something that changes your own future actions, a paradox is created. If you cure the plague, you'll never transmute this Stone. You're right. But if you never transmute the Stone, you never cure the plague, so you do transmute the Stone. See where I'm going with this? He theorized such an event could possibly fracture your 'timestream,' which would pretty much destroy the universe, and I think we both agree that wouldn't accomplish anything. Get in the car."

Trust him to be short-sighted. "Don't be absurd. The time . . . stream will compensate, branching off at the juncture. There's no natural system that could be so easy to fracture."

"And I suppose you have the math to prove that as well?"

Franklin stiffened. "As much as can be proven. Obviously you have to allow for some particles we can't observe yet-"

"Then let's stick to science we can observe," Edward snapped. "Al went into the Gate and came back out, years later, completely unchanged. He didn't come out younger. Time was still moving forward for him. If you move fast enough, time stops in relation to the observer. You can stop time. Time is probably stopped at the Gate. But it can't move in reverse. Nothing can travel faster than the speed of light."

The speed of light . . . ? How did that factor into things? "You saw the math-"

"I saw a bunch of equations that I couldn't make sense of," he interrupted brusquely. "Because they don't make sense. Look, Sorn, even if you're right, everyone who exists after you leave this 'branch' will still have to deal with the consequences of what you've done here, even if you grow up in a world without those consequences. And if you're wrong, the entire universe is destroyed. So get in the car. We're going to West City."

Franklin glanced at the western horizon, trying to sift through the waving grasses for any sign of the advance force. "Look, I don't have time to argue with you-"

"At least we agree on something," Elric muttered. "Are you expecting someone?"

Something slightly too round to be a bunch of grass caught his eyes, and he felt the world drop away.

It was too late. Even if he repaired the array now, they'd see him do it, they'd know it was there.

"Yeah. Them."

- x -

Author's Notes: Well, so there was some action, right? What's Patterson up to? What's Russ up to? What about our two braniacs in with the velociraptors? I caught a bunch of typos, meaning not all of them, so as usual, posted without a beta. Don't get spoiled! I just got a bit of free time. And honestly, even I can't drag out introspection and plot forever. Just . . . sixteen chapters or so. )