2. It's Kind of a Long Story

"Isn't she just the cutest thing? You should have seen the look on her face when she saw her birthday cake! We weren't going to let her have a piece until later, but how could you possibly say no to such an adorable kid?"

Colonel Maes Hughes quite literally bounced into the room, completely oblivious to the tangible tension and the rigid back of the seated General. Though, to be honest, the warning glares the officers shot at him weren't that far off from the jaded expressions they usually wore when he ranted about his precious daughter.

He slid a picture out from his jacket pocket, and proceeded to wave it in front of his motionless audience. "We got her a giant teddy bear, at least twice as big as her! She's going to be so excited!" He turned to Roy, who sat unmoving in the uncomfortable chair. He may as well have been in an entirely different world; his eyes were focused on something only he could see, fingers tightly gripping the edge of the seat. For the first time, Hughes became aware that maybe – just maybe – something was wrong.

"Hey Roy, are you okay?" He leaned over and placed a hand on Roy's shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. He jumped, and with a quickness Hughes didn't think was possible, pushed him away. Hughes toppled backwards onto Breda, the two of them falling to the ground with a loud thud. Havoc and Hawkeye helped the two to their feet as Roy stamped over to the window behind his desk, gazing through the cloudy glass at the thick sheets of rain.

"Alright, what's going on?" Hughes' soldier instincts took over, his arms crossed and eyes glittering dangerously. "What's gotten into him?"

There was a brilliant flash of lightning, turning Roy into a foreboding silhouette, followed by a deafening growl of thunder. Fuery squeaked and shot into the air; many things frightened the skittish sergeant, but thunderstorms topped the list.

Havoc sighed. "To be honest, we're not exactly sure what's going on either." He paused and glanced at Roy, still staring out the window. "That's only something he can answer. Claims that 'everything's wrong' and was rambling about artificial humans and the alchemy stone, or something."

Hughes took a few tentative steps in Roy's direction, Riza on his heels. They looked at each other in a silent moment of understanding; if neither of them could snap Roy out of… whatever this was, then nobody could.

"Don't come any closer." The two soldiers froze at the hoarse voice. Roy didn't move from his position, but in the murky reflection of the glass they could see the corners of his mouth tremble, and the hardness of his eyes.

"Sir, we want to help you." Riza took a small step closer. "But in order to do that, you need to explain to us what's wrong."

Roy slowly spun around to face his comrades. His gaze settled on Havoc (who had never wanted a cigarette more in his life), Fuery (eyes of a cornered animal, glasses dangerously close to falling off his face), Breda (frowning, fists clenched at his side), Falman (who, despite his encyclopedic memory, couldn't think of a single word to describe the situation), Hawkeye (confused and scared, fearing that the person closest to her would be lost for good) and finally rested on Hughes.

Maes Hughes, who should be rotting six feet under. Not celebrating his daughter's fourth birthday.

It didn't matter if this world was real or not, if he was dreaming, or in a coma in a hospital bed, or even dead. It didn't matter if the world came to a halting stop and reality melted away into a bubbling mixture of confusion and nothingness. All that mattered was that, for whatever reason, Hughes was alive. He was here, in the same room as him, made of flesh and bone, with a beating heart.

To say Hughes was surprised when Roy suddenly hugged him was an understatement. The physical (and metaphorical) distance between them had closed, and suddenly he had let all his walls down, embracing his closest friend. All Roy could think about was how real Hughes felt. Surely this was really happening. Surely something wonderful had happened, not something awful. Whatever this mess was, it had brought him Hughes. That made it worth it, right?

-間奏-

After a few minutes, everyone was seated, chairs pushed into a circle. It was like kindergarten, when everyone would introduce themselves and talk about their favorite colors and animals and type of play-doh. Except in this case the circumstances were a bit more serious.

They all looked expectantly at General Mustang, who was staring up at the ceiling. Every few seconds he would flick his eyes back towards Hughes, just for a moment, to verify that he was still there and was still real. Havoc tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for his superior to just spit out whatever was troubling him. Falman coughed quietly into his hand. Fuery fidgeted in his seat, Breda gently nudging him to sit still. Hughes and Hawkeye were silent and immobile, betraying their anxiety.

"It's… kind of a long story." Everyone looked up as Roy began to speak. "So I'll give you the abbreviated version. Nobody has permission to speak until I'm done." He surveyed their reactions, then launched straight into it.

He started with the origins of the homunculi – that despicable creature from beyond the gate, an explanation of the what the 'gate' was, the monster's seven "children", the destruction of the once-great civilization of Xerxes, and of course a brief summary of the Philosopher's Stone - the godforsaken elixir.

He paused, all eyes on him. An eerie silence filled the room, only to be broken by a crash of thunder. Nobody spoke. He took a deep breath and continued onward, the words tumbling from his lips in a rush. He told them everything. Well, almost everything. Some things… perhaps they were better off left unsaid.

Oh, by the way Hughes, you were murdered in a phone booth by an immortal bastard masquerading as your wife.

Havoc, you were paralyzed from the waist down and it's most likely all my fault.

And Hawkeye, you had your throat slit open to try and force me to perform human transmutation. I could do nothing but watch, screaming your name.

He wisely chose to leave those parts out. It's for the best.

"That's it. That's everything. And it happened… I swear. I know I sound like a deranged mental patient, but it's the truth and I'm standing by it."

The awkward quietness was unbearable. They fidgeted, avoided eye contact, tapped their fingers, fixed the lapels on their uniforms, digesting their commander's speech. They respected their leader, followed him everywhere, and would carry his burdens and ideals on their shoulders. But this… this was different, wasn't it? Surely this wasn't their commander? Maybe it was his body, but it wasn't his mind… Had all the years of pressure and stress finally gotten to him? Was his mind betraying him?

"Sir, with all due respect, perhaps you should…" Havoc bit down on a new cigarette, desperately wishing he could light it. "Maybe you should… you know… see someone."

Falman nodded solemnly in agreement. Fuery squirmed, but didn't say anything.

"I think Havoc might be right." Breda clasped his hands together. "Those things… they didn't happen, General."

Mustang scowled. "Well, what about the rest of you? Anybody else think I'm insane?" None of the subordinates would have mentioned it, but there was fear in their superior's eyes – fear that maybe they were right.

"I don't think you're insane." It was Hughes. Roy smiled, just a small one. At least someone believed in him. "I've known you for years, Roy, and I know that you wouldn't make something like this up. You really believe this happened. But… that doesn't mean it did."

Roy's smile immediately vanished. "What are you saying?"

"He's saying that none of this is possible." Hawkeye's voice shook. "For one thing, Scar is in prison. He's been in prison for two years now. Cell # 45, right next to the Crimson Alchemist's, who is still alive. Don't you remember? General Basque Grand brought him in. He was ambushed on his way home from headquarters, but was able to get the upper hand and subdue him."

Roy's face was blank.

"And the Elric brothers. I've never heard of them. There has never been a state alchemist with the title 'Fullmetal', and I'm pretty sure I would remember a walking, talking suit of armor." She sighed. "Sir… please understand…"

Roy jumped from his seat, the chair crashing to the floor. "Then who's Fuhrer? Don't tell me that-"

"Yes sir, Bradley is the current Fuhrer."

"But he's a homunculus! He's going to-"

"There's no such thing as humonculi, Roy!" Hughes was out of his seat as well now, spurred by frustration. "Just stop it with this nonsense, and get with it!"

In response, Roy's shoulders slumped and he covered his face with his hands. His gloves were still on the floor, from where he had thrown them earlier. He once again noted that the scars were gone, replaced with calloused but otherwise fine skin.

"I'm sorry." Hughes stood only a few inches from the defeated general. "But please-"

"What if I gave you a reason to believe me?" Roy lifted his head, a familiar fire flicking in his midnight eyes. "What if I could find evidence? What if I can prove that things aren't exactly as they seem?"

"Then we would have no choice but to believe you." His subordinates nodded in agreement.

"But how are you going to do that?" Riza asked quietly.

Roy got the faraway look on his face again. "There's only one person I know of that could shed some light on this situation. And he lives in Resembool."

AN: Now we're starting to get somewhere! Thanks for all the support and feedback so far; I didn't expect such a positive response. So - what do you all think? Is this new 'reality' better or worse? And what could possibly be waiting for them in Resembool? Nothing is as it seems...