AND NOW, THE EPIC FINALE!

Six days have passed since the night I lit the fire in the cell.

Riza and Edward have been taken three times, and I don't understand why the man keeps leaving me behind. I've tried attacking him, but he beats me down every time.

However! I've studied his face. I know what he looks like. I've even managed to find out from Shaydin that his name's John McAddam.

As soon as I have my gloves, I swear…

Just you wait, McAddam. Just you wait.

I've noticed something else, too. The morning after I'd lit the fire, Edward had moved back towards his corner. But not all the way.

I brushed the ashes away and moved our beds back to the original positions; mine somewhat in the centre and Riza's a couple of feet to my left.

Each night, Edward's mattress creeps a little closer to our two. I can't figure out whether it's really happening or if I'm just imagining it.

I'm pretty sure he is moving closer to us.

Shaydin tells us that he reckons our forces will be here any day now, and we told him to hang around our cell as much as possible so he didn't get caught and shot at as a rebel.

He's currently sitting outside with the sleepy-dumb guard, cross-legged on a mattress similar to ours. He falls asleep too, eventually, and so do we.

Before I get to sleep, I turn my head to a more comfortable position. I see Riza's eyes staring straight back at me and I avert my gaze as fast as possible, embarrassed.

That's the last I see.

The next morning, I wake up and assess our surroundings as I normally do, and I now know for sure Edward has most definitely moved.

Because he's right in between Riza and I.

Snoozing away peacefully and totally oblivious to the fact that Riza and I are both staring at him and wondering how on earth he'd managed to sneak in there without us noticing.

And, more importantly, how on earth he'd managed to grab both of our hands in his sleep and touch them together whilst wearing shackles.

We both remove out hands gently, and I find myself going red. Edward continues to sleep, his intelligent golden-amber eyes hidden away from the harsh world behind his eyelids.

About half an hour later, he wakes up, stretches and asks how in the seven hells he'd ended up in this position.

I tell him he must sleepwalk.

After breakfast, (hooray, bread and butter again) we're all sitting about in dead silence when a noise catches my attention.

"Hoo hooo hoo! Hooo hooo hooo! Hooo hoo hooo hooo!"

I would almost have believed it to be an owl, if not for the repetitive pattern of the hoots and it being daytime. And the fact that it's morse code.

Dot dash dot… Dash dash dash… Dash dot dash dash… Thats… R… O… Y…

"Only you, Hughes, you idiot," I growl under my breath. "The code changes to a sparrow in the day."

I look up to the barred window of the cell, which is covered by a layer of fabric nailed to the wall to keep out snow, and sigh.

I stand up and make my way over to it, standing on tiptoe so that my head can just barely reach it. I tear off the fabric and look around, but fail to distinguish any person, soldier or otherwise.

I return the call and suddenly there's Maes' face right in the window.

"Hi, Roy. You look like you've been having fun!"

"Yeah, sure," I return sarcastically. "The time of my life."

Maes looks around inside the cell. "Hi, Hawkeye! Oh, Ed, you're here too! Awesome. Now I don't have to go looking for you."

Edward stands up and walks over joining me by the window. "Okay, not that it isn't great that you're here and all, but why you of all people? I thought you were a desk worker."

"I do a bit of both," Maes says with a shrug. "I got bored at my post and wanted to come. Also I'm the only other person besides you and Hawkeye who knows where you keep your gloves. Which reminds me…"

He disappears for a second, then pops back up. "Here you go."

He reaches in through the bars and hands me a pair of ignition gloves, putting on a false accent and saying, "As you requested, sir."

I grab the gloves thankfully and grin. "Perfect."

I run my hands over the material and the circle on the back before slipping them on.

"Kept 'em dry for you and everything," Maes stated, pushing his glasses further up his nose and nodding proudly.

"You crumpled them," I point out dejectedly.

"It's kinda hard not to when they're wrapped in all my other provisions inside my bag."

"Ah, whatever," I say, flexing my hands impatiently. "Let's just get outta here. I'm sick of this place. Oh, and tell the guys not to attack the man travelling with us."

"Alright!" Maes says with a salute. "I'll tell them where you are, and tell 'em not to shoot at the guy with you."

He disappears from the window.

I limp over to the cell door and motion Shaydin over. He comes, and I whisper, "They're here. Lend me a pencil."

Shaydin nods and reaches into the pocket of his thick fur coat. He produces a tiny, battered pencil and hands me it through the bars.

"Fullmetal. Over here."

Edward heaves himself up and I grab his shackles, drawing a transmutation circle onto them. There's a flash, a crack and a clank as I break them off, and Edward grins.

"This is so much better," he says, rolling his wrist and moving his auto-mail shoulder. Everywhere from the elbow down hangs limp, but he seems pleased just to be free of the troublesome shackles.

Riza pushes herself up too, and Shaydin passes in a single crutch.

"It took me forever to sneak that in. I thought it may come in handy when you needed to run," he explains. "Please be careful when you do, though."

"Don't worry, you can keep a firm eye on us," I say, shrugging on my military jacket and wincing at the pain in my arms. "You'll be coming right along with us."

"H-huh?" Shaydin blinks at me, confused.

"Well, we can't have you being gunned down as a rebel, now, can we?" I say in a falsely surprised tone and smirking. "And how do you expect the Lieutenant to get out is she can't walk very far or fast?"

"You either," Edward adds, slapping me on the back and thouroughly killing my 'fully capable and unscathed' act.

Ow.

I roll my eyes and nod begrudgingly. "Yeah, yeah. There may be a chance I might need a little assisstance too…"

"'A little'?" Edward echoes. "Yeah, right. You'll prob'ly like, collapse halfway there and wail on the floor in a wonderful display of that melodrama that you love so much."

"Melodramatic? Me?! How dare you suggest such a thing?! I'm insulted at the very thought, Fullmetal! I simply cannot comprehend the very idea of it!"

"There! There you go! You're doing it right flipping now, man!"

"I'm taller than you are."

"Aargh! How dare you?! I am so not short, you egocentric pretty boy of an excuse for a representative of a low-down, miserable government who screams like a girl and is one hundred percent useless when wet!"

"There you have it, folks; a wonderful display of said 'melodrama', straight from the mouth of world-renowned pipsqueak, Edward Elric."

"I AM NOT A PIPSQUEAK, GET IT?!"

"O-ho! It seems as though the pipsqueak has been angered! Please, ladies and gentlemen, try to remain calm as we retrieve the sedatives…"

"YAARGH!"

"What an astounding occurance! You have just witnessed the mating cry of the Edward, and I believe it was aimed directly at the gorgeous young Winry Rockbell… Can our Edward win the affections of the Winry?"

"Gah! Shut the hell up!"

Shaydin watches us bicker from outside the cell as Riza stares at us blandly, her head shaking in disbelief. She turns to Shaydin and says, "This is how they express happiness. And anger. And disappointment, pain, boredom, excitement and a large range of other emotions."

I look over my shoulder mid-smirk and notice the corners of the young medic's mouth turn upwards in a smile. Before we know it, he's laughing; something we've never seen before. His deep blue eyes are lit with joy, his smile one of earnest amusement and happiness.

I take a moment to relish in the fuzzy warmth and fluffiness of it all before remembering he's laughing at me and Edward.

Then Riza rolls her eyes and smiles at my irritated expression - I for one think she looks much prettier when she's smiling - and shakes her head at me.

Edward grins and laughs too, throwing his hands on his hips. I realise that these are two of my most precious subordinates, and the two whom I need to look out for the most.

Riza because I know she'll want to throw herself in the way of any blow headed my way, even if it means her own death.

Edward because he's so young and even though he thinks he's seen and done it all, is still so naïve, and at times vulnerable.

I have to protect them like family.

"Alright, alright," I say, waving my hand in a command for silence. "That's enough."

Riza rises to her feet and limps to the door, taking the crutch and looking to me. "What are your orders?"

"First off, Fullmetal, break open that door. As quietly as you can. We don't want to wake that guard."

"Okay! That I can do! Gimme three seconds."

Clap.

Slap.

BANG!

"I said as quietly as you could!"

"That was me being quiet! And anyway, he's still asleep! Look, not even stirring!"

I sigh. I suppose the thought of Edward having some form of stealth mode was a little too far-fetched.

"Okay. Step two," I announce, dusting off my uniform the powdered concrete Edward's explosion just created. "I don't feel like sitting here and wating for Hughes to come get us, do you?"

Edward shakes his head madly, his braid flapping helplessly like a rope being mauled by a dog. "Na-uh! Let's go!"

"Lieutenant?"

"If you order it."

"Great. Because I just did. Come on. Fullmetal, can you fight?"

"Heck yeah!" Edward replies. "This broken auto-mail's gonna be a pain, but my ankle's perfectly fine and the rest of my injuries are just half-healed bumps and scratches. I can fight fine!"

"Good. You take up the rear; deal with anyone who tries to attack us from behind. Stick a few walls up to slow them down. And if you think we're getting over-whelmed on either side, go crazy with one of those mid-range alchemic stunts of yours."

I turn to Shaydin, who now stands in the doorway of our cell. "We need you to direct us, so help the Lieutenant along and I'll stay a little bit behind you. I'll fire off some sparks and take down whoever comes at us from in front."

Shaydin looks puzzled. "What exactly do you mean by 'fire off sparks'?"

"H-hey!"

A rebel steps into the corridor, pointing at us and gaping. "What are you doing?! What's going on here?!"

I raise my eyebrows. "You wanna know what I meant?"

Click-snap-boom!

The rebel's on the floor, wheezing, limp and looking lightly toasted - just what I'd aimed for.

"I missed you!" I proclaim, sighing happily and going a little red in the face (I have dubbed this, 'doing a Hughes') as I shove my hands in my pockets. "My lovely gloves!"

Shaydin stares at me.

"Yes," Edward says, closing his eyes and nodding. He opens one and looks at me with a concerned expression on his face as I whistle joyfully and grin. "He is definitely a mentally retarded pyromaniac."

"Oh, now don't say that," I scold. "These gloves are merely an extension of my own body! It's like you getting your auto-mail repaired or something like that. They're almost a part of me, y'know? 'Cause I've used 'em for so long? I can almost sense how they feel… And right now, they're happy to see me. I love them because they represent my own strength and will reaching across space every time I use them. They fight for the good side, yeah? I always felt like they—"

Edward and Riza walk right past me and out of the cell and begin to ask Shaydin for directions, blatantly ignoring my speech of joy at the reunion of me and my extension of will.

Phooey.

By the way, I am not mentally retarded. Or a pyromaniac. I just fight with fire. That doesn't make me a pyromaniac. That's like saying Maes is obessive, or something like that… Oh, wait. He probably is.

Never mind.

We're running through a corridor as best we can, Riza with her limp and Roy with his cracked ribs. He can't breathe easily; even I can tell that much.

Luckily for us, his flames are coming in handy. As soon as an enemy steps in front of us, he snaps his finger and they're no longer trouble. I transmute the occasional wall behind us to slow down anyone who might follow, but otherwise there isn't much I need to do.

Did the Colonel give me an easy job on purpose?

Meh. Whatever. We're getting out of here, and back to Alphonse, so that's all that really matters to me now. I can see Roy beginning to tire out now, so I run up behind him and ask, "Okay there, bastard?"

"…Fine…" he huffs out between breaths, his face pained as the exertion gets him panting. It's obviously hurting his chest.

"Sure?" I insist, cocking my head and transmuting another wall behind us. "I can help, if you want."

"Nah," he replies. "S'okay."

"If you're sure."

He gives a wordless nod and raises his hand above Riza's and Shaydin's heads to take aim at three men who're unlucky enough to have run into us.

"Stop now or we'll—"

Boom!

And they're down.

Roy lets out a hacking cough and rubs his side, but keeps running anyways. This is starting to get me concerned. Should I do something? I mean, he seems to be managing okay. But us type, we're often worse off than we look, aren't we? So maybe I should…

Whoa!

Roy lets out a curse as he trips over an inconspicuous pipe on the floor and falls forward, trying to break his fall but not quite getting there.

I leap forward, and slip in sideways as fast as I can to catch him on my back. He grunts as his injured ribs come into contact with me, but it'll be a lot better than hitting the hard floor.

Roy lets out a huffing breath of relief, still leaning on my back, before shakily straightening up and running his hand over the top of his head, unintentionally flattening out his sweaty black hair. "Thanks for the save, Fullmetal…"

"Anytime," I say. "Now do you want some help?"

Roy doesn't say anything as Riza and Shaydin pause for the latter to call back, "Are you okay back there?"

Roy sighs and looks at me. "Alright. Just lend me a hand 'til we're outta here, then."

I walk up on Roy's right, offering him my shoulder to lean on. He takes it, putting his arm around me, and together we start off after Riza and Shaydin at a light jog.

Roy complains that strategically, he and Shaydin should be at the front and me with Riza so that he can snap out flames without having to avoid hitting the two in front of us and so that Shaydin can direct.

I think he just wants to keep Shaydin away from Riza.

We've fallen into a pattern; every time an enemy appears, Riza and Shaydin dodge to the sides and Roy flies a flame right down the middle at them. So far we haven't had any attacks from behind, so my walls must be doing their job. This was up until…

Bam!

"Ack!" A blast of pain shoots up the inside of my leg and I fall down onto my knees, feeling blood seep out of my thigh. I struggle back up, clutching the back of my leg. If my knowledge of human anatomy is correct, there's an important artery in that part of my leg.

Crap.

"Fullmetal! Are you okay?!"

"Just got shot…in the leg…" I growl, tearing the tattered sleeve off my red cloak and tying it tightly around the wound to block the blood. Ow, ow!

"Well, well! A traitor, a mangy cur, a scrawny pup and our stubborn li'l b****! And that was me last bullet, too!"

It's McAddam, oh, f***, it's McAddam. This isn't gonna go down well with—

Roy freezes on the spot and then whirls around, his energy regenerated as he stops checking me over. "You!"

S***.

I grab the inside of Roy's sleeve and hold on tightly, in case he decides to do something stupid.

"Me," McAddam replies, swaggering forward and grinning gleefully. "Hey there, mili'try scum!"

Roy raises his free hand and snaps his fingers in one swift movement, his teeth bared in an infuriated snarl.

Smoke and brick dust explodes in the corridor, obscuring our vision of the hulking beast of a man.

We wait a couple of moments as it clears, all of us shocked to see the man still standing there, his face taking on an expression of mild surprise.

"Whoa, didn't know ya could do that, cur!" he says. "Now I'm almost glad a didn't take ya out fer questioning!"

"So you should be!" Roy barks, drawing back his arm and sending out another bolt of flames with a large swing. "Burn, you bastard!"

There's another huge eruption of dust as his flame explodes at high velocity, setting all our ears ringing and sending a backlash of chalky cloud back at us.

He probably didn't think that through.

The dust settles again, and this time McAddam is simply standing a little to the side, his thick clothing slightly singed and wisps of smoke trailing from his body.

"Hoo, boy!" he says in an excited tone as he starts slowly moving towards us. "You might just be good 'nuff to gimme a nice fight!"

"Watch what you wish for!" Roy snaps his fingers again and his flame spears right down the hall and explodes.

This time, taking her opportunity, Riza darts towards Roy and grabs his other arm. He jumps in surprise and his head snaps around to look at her. "Wh-what?!"

"We have to keep moving, sir!" she says. "We don't have any time to waste here! And there isn't any possible way you can fight him if it comes to physical attacks! Just forget it!"

Roy's face slowly gains the look of a dawning realisation and his eyes narrow. "You're just trying to make me leave this guy without paying him back for what he did to you, aren't you?"

Riza hesitates. "Partially. But if he gets close enough, he could kill you."

The dust clears again and McAddam resumes his walk towards us, this time sporting charred sleeves and trousers. "C'mon now, z'at the best ya got?"

Roy rips his hand free of Riza's grip and shoots off another attack, shouting, "Not even close!"

This time his attack shoots down the hall with all the speed of lightning, and explodes with the force of several large bombs.

There isn't any way he could have survived that, is there? If he did, I'd be pretty darn–

"Surprised?" McAddam questions as he walks back out of the smoke and powdery dust.

Roy's eyes narrow. I don't know what it is he's looking at, but something that's obviously important's caught his eye.

"'Course y'are," McAddam states, continuing his slow advance on us. "Not used to havin' yer prey get away from ya, are ya?"

"Sir!" Riza says urgently, tugging on his shoulder.

"Just give me a minute, Lieutenant," Roy mumbles. "There's something…not right here."

"It's just that he's faster than your flames and he's gonna get us if we don't run!" I interject, adrenaline pumping through my veins at high speed. "Now come on!"

Roy motions slightly at the smoke and dust still billowing around just behind the rebel. "Look at that, Fullmetal. When have you ever seen dust act like that? It's flowing straight up into the air."

"That's 'cause it's smoke, dumbass! From your attack!"

"It's not," Roy says. "What's burning to create that smoke? All the residual traces should have faded by now. The only explanation is that it's not smoke or dust. He looks down at me. "That, Fullmetal, is steam."

"'Steam'?" I echo incredulously. "'Steam'?! Alright, bastard, you're delusional."

"No," Roy mutters. "I'm perfectly sane."

He grunts as he whips out his hand and snaps again, shattering the near-quiet that has taken over the corridor.

This time, however, he snaps again directly after the first blow. But there's something odd about his second flame; I think it might be the fact that it's not actually a flame.

It's a burst of alternated air pressure, I think. It blows away all the dust, smoke and apparent 'steam' with a loud crack, leaving McAddam in plain view.

Behind a wall of ice.

"Told you," Roy says to me. "Told you it was steam. He's an alchemist."

My jaw drops. "That idiot?!"

"Never judge an enemy on appearances alone, Fullmetal. Ever."

Riza grabs Roy's arm again. "Okay, this makes the situation even worse. Come now, sir, before this escalates to something none of us can handle."

"No!" Roy snaps. "I'm not letting him get away with this! Any of it! I'll make him pay for every blow he's dealt you!"

McAddam's wall sloshes away into a large puddle and he grins maliciously. "Ya discovered me secret. Well, that just makes it a whole lot more fun, don't it?"

There's about seven metres of space between us and the rebel, and he's finally stopped advancing this way.

"Go," Roy mutters.

"What?" I almost shout, and Shaydin shakes his head. I can see Riza's grip tighten around her superior's arm.

"Go, now!" Roy's hightened voice blasts at us. "I don't want you here for this!"

"Fat frikkin' chance, man!" I retort. "I'm staying right here!"

"I can't obey that order, sir," Riza says stubbornly. "It's overruled by the main mission orders, which include 'stick together'."

McAddam laughs. "Them's some loyal s'bordinates ya got there. And one of 'em's even mine!"

"Get out of here! Out! I'll catch up! I just don't want you here to see this!" Roy almost roars at us, his shoulders twitching and jerking. I can see the distress clearly on his face; this is a battle he needs to fight without us, but knows he can't possibly win alone.

A right old conundrum, or so they say. I prefer to say 'the situation is f***** up'. Not in Al's presence, of course… He'd throw a fit.

Roy lets out a frustrated growl and flicks his head back to our opponent, telling us his plans remain solid. There's no way any of us can change his mind. Damn. Better come up with a plan…fast.

"Mustang, you'd better be careful if you wanna fight this," I say.

"He's not fighting this," growls Riza softly, tightening her grip and giving Roy's arm a sharp tug. "It's too risky! What are you two thinking?!"

Roy flinches in pain momentarily at this pull on his formerly dislocated arm before locking his gaze on McAddam. "Let's do this."

"Colonel! Don't you dare—"

"Lieutenant, no amount of common sense is ever going to talk me out of this."

Roy raises his hand once again, poised to snap, and I transmute my arm into a blade, ready to cover for him if he needs it.

I hope to whatever god is out there he doesn't.

"Lieutenant, Shaydin, Fullmetal, step back a little. I get the feeling these flames will be a little out of control," he says.

With one slight movement of his hand, the whole world shakes and roars again.

I can win this, I keep thinking to myself. I can win this if I find the right strategy.

"'Zat all ya got?!" McAddam roars from behind another ice wall. "C'mon, c'mon!"

Alright. Just flaming him at random isn't going to work. I've got to figure something out. Okay, so, he's drawing that water from somewhere…but where?

I snap again, and the same thing happens. McAddam looks to be getting bored. I'd better think of something quick.

Okay, where in a place like this could you find water?

Air moisture? No, there's too little for what he's doing.

Melting snow? No, he couldn't get any inside here.

Puddles? No, the floor's dry.

What else is there?!

I jump slightly as a sudden realisation smashes it's way into my head.

"Thanks for the save, Fullmetal…"

"Anytime. Now do you want some help?"

Yes! That's it! That's just it!

"Get back!" I bark and the three behind me take a few steps backwards.

I snap out sideways to explode the pipe at the side of the corridor and water begins to trickle out of it and onto the floor.

Lucky. I got the right side, so the flow of water won't reach my adversary anymore.

The muscled man raises an eyebrow. "Now that makes it more challengin'."

"Okay. Come at me!" I shout, clicking and sending out another blast of fire. McAddam doesn't have as much water left to transmute, so I do a little more damage this time around. Good for me.

This time it's my turn to make advances. I stalk forward, snapping out flames as I go.

There's about four metres left between us when—

"I'mma gonna hafta up the ante here!" McAddam says, slapping the floor with his left hand (I catch a glimpse of a transmutation circle I'd missed before) and sending all the traces of water left surging at me.

Oh, my GOD, I hate water! Loathe it! Detest it! With every cell and fibre of my being!

My gloves are soaked through. Actually, my whole body is. Blah.

Now I'm wet, vulnerable and bloody well freezing.

"Tch!" I jump a couple of steps backwards, immediately on the defensive. I can't believe I fell for that!

McAddam rises again, a sinister grin covering his half-burnt face. "The tables have turned, Roy Mustang."

I bare my teeth, flicking my wrists vigorously as Riza shouts at me from behind. So he knows who I am.

"That is who y'are, innit?"

After he receives no response, McAddam continues. "I'd an inkling that you might be him after me men came back with tales of a flame-slinging soldier. And this confirms it all. There's the price for havin' such a reputation, Colonel."

McAddam strides forward, cracking his knuckles. "People can find yer weaknesses if they look hard enough."

I whirl around to shout, "Run! Run now! This is a direct, unrefusable, non-negotiable, absolute order! If you do not obey, I'll court-martial you all!"

Riza shakes her head. "I told you, the main mission orders—"

"Shaydin!" I call sharply.

He nods and throws his hand around Riza's neck, effectively smothering her. "I am sorry, Miss Hawkeye…"

She just doesn't have the strength to fight back and few seconds later, he's choked Riza out and is supporting her full weight on his shoulder. There's the plus-side to being a medic - you know all the body's weakest points.

"Mr Elric! Help me get her out of here!"

"What?!" Edward exclaims. "No way! We can't leave Mustang here!"

"Non-negotiable, Fullmetal!" I yell. "It means go! Get Lieutenant Hawkeye somewhere safe! I'll catch up!"

"But—"

"No buts! I can handle myself! Shaydin can't! He needs you to get Hawkeye out! And besides, you're injured! You can't fight with that kind of wound on your leg! Both of you go! Now!"

Edward casts me a distraught glance, but takes Riza's arm and turns to run. "You'd better come back alive, bastard! You'd better!"

"Roger!" I call back, then raise my hands in a defensive position to guard against McAddam, even though there really isn't any point. He's going to thrash me.

"Commendable actions, Mustang," he says. "Commendable, but foolish. None of you'll make it out alive. It's four against a hundred and eighty. You don't got a prayer."

He obviously doesn't know about our reinforcements.

"Sorry," I reply evenly. "I'm not religious."

He lunges.

I pant as the exertion of bearing Riza's weight finally sets in and the adrenaline bursts through me. My leg burns furiously and blood sprays where we run. I can feel the bullet inside me.

It's not a nice sensation.

Terror zaps through my body as I think of what fate awaits Roy, and I try to shake the thoughts from my head and keep running.

We haven't encountered any other rebels; they must all be busy fighting of the soldiers.

My thoughts fly through my head fast and short, echoing my panicked psyche. Like this;

I can't believe it.

Roy's fighting that brute alone.

He's an idiot.

He's injured.

His gloves are soaked through.

He can't possibly win.

I should have stayed.

I'm an idiot.

What will I tell Al?

What will I tell Hughes?

What will I tell Riza?

This is my fault.

This is my fault.

This is all my fault.

Roy's going to—

No. I don't allow myself to finish that last thought, persevering with the hope that Roy can somehow live to fight another day.

My lungs are burning now and I reckon I haven't got much energy left in me. I won't make it much further… But I've gotta try.

Shaydin directs us left and we burst through one more door out into the open. I survey the scene, panting and coughing heavily.

Most of the rebels are either lying on the ground staining the snow red with their blood or tied up with thick ropes and are being forced onto military trucks to be trialled and then imprisoned. Soldiers mill about, gathering up guns and the like.

One figure breaks away from the crowd and runs towards us. It's Maes Hughes, I can tell even from this distance. I try to wipe the slick red liquid off my hands as he runs over.

He skids to a halt before us, his yellow-green eyes wide and startled behind his glasses. "H-hey! What on earth happened?!"

"Decided…to escape…bored…waiting…" I pant, letting Maes take Riza's weight off me and Shaydin. He lays her on the snow and looks up at me. "Where's Roy?"

Shaydin doubles over and collapses on the snow, wheezing and clutching his chest. He's not built for this kind of thing; his body isn't strong.

"Mustang…still fighting…big muscle-guy… Wouldn't let us…stay… Find him…really fast… He'll get killed…" I manage between huffs, waving my hand in the direction of the building we just escaped from and leaning over as a hacking fit of coughs ensnares me. "Go…! Quickly…! Somebody…help him!"

"And he calls me a fool…!" Maes grips the gun in his hand and glances about, then makes a break for the building at a sprint.

"W…wait!" I shout. "You won't be able to…"

But he's already gone, and the exhaustion and stress of the last few weeks finally kicks in. And the blood loss. Not again…

I feel myself slipping and then the world finally tips sideways.

Looking back, I've hardly slept and been beaten up repeatedly, and am probably malnourished now. I think it's okay…

Besides, the snow is…so soft.

I spit blood onto the concrete where it mingles with the cold water that reflects my scratched and bruised face.

A blade transmuted from ice, now there's an original idea. He sliced me right in the side, and now I'm literally gushing blood.

It hurts so bad. And I'm freezing to death. I don't think I'm gonna make it out of this one…

McAddam moves in again, his body still burnt in several places from my flames, and raises his fist. He's staggering - good. Means I managed to pay him back.

The world goes black and white briefly before the pain hits and I'm skidding across the floor. Ow…

I struggle into a sitting position and attempt to stand up again, but my strength is fading fast and my arms give out.

I sigh.

This is it. I'm going to die here. There isn't even time for me to write a will, or tell someone my dying wishes or something.

"Any last words, dog?"

I ponder this quietly. Well, as best I can, anyway. My brain's a little bit disjointed and out of it.

"Yeah, I s'pose," I manage to say.

"Let's hear 'em, then."

I take a deep, shaky breath and cough, sending more blood down my chest. I just don't care now. I'm so covered in it, it doesn't matter anymore.

"Lemme think for a sec," I slur helplessly, closing my eyes to try and gather my thoughts. I try to think of all my dreams and hopes, all the people I love. Was there anything I wanted to do? Anything I wanted to say to them?

Nothing's coming. Oh! Wait… Wait… No. Never mind.

"I… Oh, tell…tell Riza… No, tell everyone…" I trail off, my breath coming at short, difficult intervals.

I might actually die before I can say anything.

"Just…" I twitch my shoulders in an attempted shrug, almost smiling. "I got nothin'. Just…nothin'."

McAddam laughs throatily, throwing his head back. "Well then, ya mangy mutt, yer time's come! Get ready to meet yer maker!"

I don't bother pointing out again that I don't believe in the afterlife. As depressing as it is, when I die, I die. I'm just gone.

He swings his fist back for the final blow. "Die," he says softly.

I can already feel the world fading away by this stage, and my vision is swimming with black spots. The pain is disappearing. Actually, all sensation is disappearing - the tiredness, the cold, the dampness, everything.

Bye, everyone.

Maes, I'm sorry I couldn't celebrate your daughter's birthdays with you.

Riza, I'm sorry I didn't live to see our goal fulfilled.

Edward, I'm sorry I couldn't help you out more than I did.

Alphonse, I'm sorry I never got to take you to that restaurant like I said we should after you got your body back.

Havoc, I'm sorry for stealing all your girls.

Breda, I'm sorry I hid all your food that one time and blamed it on Fuery.

Fuery, I'm sorry for that too.

Falman, I'm sorry I snuck all that paperwork into your pile…

I don't know how long I go on like this, and I manage to catch one fleeting glance of the world before everything fades into darkness. Although, I think I must be delirious because what I see doesn't make any sense;

McAddam, lying on the ground in a pool of red blood, a small triangular throwing knife stuck neatly into the back of his neck.

"Roy! Roy! Are you okay?!" I shout, holstering my remaining knives and running forwards. I rip the bloodied weapon from the dead man's neck as I kneel down in front of my best friend, trying to assess the situation. His skin is ice-cold to touch and he's not conscious.

"Oh, dammit Roy, how'd you manage to get yourself into this mess…?" I hiss under my breath as I check him for wounds. I give up on this because there are just too many.

There are bruises and scratches covering every inch of skin, I think his ribs are broken, and his wrist's in a makeshift splint. There are several tears in his uniform that look to me like points where bullets have entered, but upon inspection I find they've already been treated. His leg's bleeding heavily and there's more red seeping from his lips.

But how's there so much blo… Okay, that's a big wound, yes, that's a very big wound. I pray to God that hasn't hit anything important.

There's a deep, rough gash on his side, seeping blood and everything. Dammit, dammit, dammit, I should've come faster! How the hell am I supposed to treat something like this?

Should I leave him here and come back with more guys? But he mightn't make it by then… I gotta do something now! But what?!

I rub my forehead with my hand, growling under my breath. I don't want to try and pick him up, in case I risk doing more damage, but running back to get some help would take too long.

What do I do?!

He's going to die if I don't figure something out real fast.

"Hey! Hughes!"

I jump, startled. I throw a glance over my shoulder and let out a sigh of relief. It's Jean Havoc and Heymans Breda, quickly followed by Kain Fuery. I could die for the sudden rush of joy. But there's no time for dying now.

Excepting Roy, of course, because he's kinda, y'know… Ah, forget it!

I motion them over, shouting, "Did you bring bandages or a stretcher or something?! There's no way we can get him out of here like this!"

"Yeah, we did!" Jean calls back, charging forward. "Fuery has them! There was this guy with black hair and glasses, and he told us to bring a stretcher and medical equipment!"

"Well, whoever he was, he just saved the Colonel's life," I respond. "Hand it here!"

"Here you go," Kain tosses me a thick roll of nice white bandages for me to cover with blood. "Is that all you need?"

"That'll be fine."

Jean looks over my shoulder worriedly. "Can't you do something more?"

"For now, that's all I can do! None of us have enough medical know-how for this!" I snap back, trying as best I can to staunch the bleeding.

Jean reaches for his pocket and Heymans slaps his hand. "Don't light one of those now! Can't you see what's going on here?!"

"I can't help it!" he protests. "It's a nervous habit!"

"It's an everything habit!" Heymans retorts. "You smoke when you're nervous, happy, angry, excited, depressed, everything!"

"So what?! You eat all the time!"

"Both of you shut up!" I bark irritatedly. "This isn't the time for bickering!"

We move on in silence, all of us trying to pitch in as best we can here. We can't have Roy dying on us; not just because he's our superior officer, but because he's our friend.

Although we mightn't act like it most of the time, all of us are a pretty close bunch, despite all the fighting and teasing. To lose one of us would be like the great metaphorical creature that is our platoon losing a limb - and to lose Roy would be like that creature losing it's head.

We all look out for our friends as if they were our own family; that's why Roy picked us. And we've got go through with that by doing all we can to help each other.

"C'mon, Roy…" I mutter, pulling tight a bandage with my teeth as I hold the other end with one hand and press it against his arm with my other. "Don't you dare die…"

Together, we manage to stop most of the bleeding and shift him carefully onto the stretcher. Heymans takes one end and Jean the other, giving me opportunity to gently tug Roy's gloves off.

His fingers twitch.

"Give'm back…tha's…my secret…" he slurs, one heavy-lidded eye opening slightly.

"Hey, now," I murmur. "Calm down; it's just me."

"…Maes…?"

"Mm-hm. Don't worry, we're getting you somewhere safe."

"Right!" Jean says with a grin. "Don't worry 'bout a thing, Colonel!"

Roy's bloodied mouth curves up in a slight smirk. "…right…"

He's slipped away again, and I direct the guys back out the way we came in. My observational streak has come in handy again - I managed to find Roy by following the trail of blood Edward left as he ran out. As we make our way outside, several officers and medics dash forward and take Roy from us.

I flop down onto the snow weakly with a shaky breath and Kain follows.

He places his forehead between his knees and mumbles, "There's more blood on the Colonel than I've ever seen in one place…"

I nod. "Yeah. He's hurt pretty bad."

"But he'll be okay now, won't he?" Jean says quietly. "I mean, there's about a hundred doctors on him."

"He's not outta the woods yet," I tell him. "That wound on his side's pretty severe. There's always the chance he won't…"

I trail off.

We sit in silence for a minute before I cast a glance upwards. My gaze rakes the scene before us and settles on a tiny, forgotten patch of the area, just in front of a small grove of trees.

I rise to my feet and make my way over, wandering through dozens of meandering soldiers packing rebels onto trucks.

The others look up too and then decide to follow me, having nothing better to do. The four people my eyes have settled on are Edward, Riza, the young ex-rebel who helped them and a female Central City medic, who's helping see to their treatment.

Both of them are out cold on the ground, lying on blankets as they're checked for injuries. This is the first time I can get a proper look at them, and although they've been cleaned up, they're still looking pretty rough.

Edward's hair is messy and dirty, smeared with dirt to match his skin and clothes. The blanket he's lying on is thoroughly soaked with blood, and the Central medic is binding his leg thickly. There are countless bruises covering his skin and he looks completely and utterly beat.

Riza's in pretty much the same condition, apart from looking a little more rested and the splint on her leg.

"Hey," I say wearily, giving a wave. The ex-rebel doesn't cast us a glance before he says, "I have told you soldiers a hundred times over! They just need space so they can recouperate! There is nothing you can do, I can handle this without your hel—"

He looks back and stops, letting out a quiet exclamation of surprise. "Oh! It is you! Forgive my boldness!"

Jean, Heymans and Kain walk up behind me.

"Hey!" Jean says. "It's the chief! Is he okay? And the Lieutenant?"

"Mr Elric and Miss Hawkeye are both doing well," the medic tells him. "Mr Elric has been shot in quite a troublesome place, however, and if he had come out even seconds later, he might have dropped for blood loss. They are exhausted, though, and have acquired several small injuries."

I settle myself on the snow, shivering a little, and pull my coat closer around my shoulders. The rest copy, and now we're all gathered in a little semi-circle around Riza, Edward and the two medics.

"So," I say. "What's your name anyways?"

"Shaydin Mackenzie, medic. I was the one who sent the S. O. S. message in your soldiers' place," he explains. "I was responsible for treating their injuries whilst they were being held captive."

"And he was the one who told us we needed to go help you and bring Roy a stretcher," Heymans adds.

I look from the ginger-haired officer back to Shaydin. "Well then, thanks." I bow my head in his direction and say, "You saved Roy's life. We're in your debt."

Kain nods and Jean follows suit whilst Heymans shakes the young man's hand. He looks surprised and relieved at the same time.

"That was very brave of you," I say. "Risking your own neck to send that message. Why did you do it?"

Shaydin shrugs. "I…I do not really know… I suppose it was because I could no longer stand the horrible things this rebel party was doing, so I just… It was really nothing."

I grin. "No, it was awesome. Thanks a tonne. We got the Colonel, Lieutenant Hawkeye and Ed back all thanks to you. Alphonse is going to want to thank you as well."

"Alphonse?"

"His lil' bro," Heymans explains. "He's been real worried about him."

A small movement on Edward's part catches my eye. His mouth twists into a soft smile as he murmurs Alphonse's name and shifts his head ever-so-slightly.

"Two of the closest brothers on the planet, I think," Jean reckons.

A thought hits me and I nod. "Yes, they are. You know, if Elysia ever has a sibling, I want them to be that close."

Three pairs of horrified eyes land on me and the medic checking Riza for any untreated injuries stops dead.

"H-Hughes…" Jean's voice cuts out and he starts again. "Hughes, don't ever have another child. Ever. We can barely handle all the photos of Elysia as it is."

"Who is Elysia?" Shaydin asks, slightly puzzled.

There's a burst of groans from everyone and I let out a laugh. "'Who is Elysia', he says… She's my adorable little daughter, of course!"

I sit up straight and reach inside my coat for my pocket and fish out the family photo I keep stored there. I hand it to Shaydin, saying, "Here's a picture! That's me, Elysia and my beautiful wife Gracia!"

Shaydin hands it back to me. "She is very cute."

"Isn't she?" I respond with an airy laugh and tuck the photo away again. "She's the best little daughter any man could wish for!"

"Watch out, he's crazy!" Heymans hisses at Shaydin.

"Crazy for Elysia! And Gracia!" I tell them, twisting around on the spot in an effort to contain my own excitement. I want to just explode and tell the young medic all about my family, but I'm trying to hold back. I don't want to freak him out after everything he's done for us. "They are perfect!"

Shaydin smiles. "You must care very much for them."

"Mm-hm!" I respond, grinning as I look away into the distance and imagine Elysia hugging me as she welcomes her daddy back home again. I'm going to tickle her so much. "More than anything in the world!"

"More than his work, at least," Jean puts in. "Half of Amestris' bills are probably just for the amount of electricity he uses to phone us all and talk about his family! And then there's the pictures!"

"What's wrong with the pictures?" I say, scowling. "They're a nice break from all the boring old paperwork we have to do! My photos are just great. Speaking of which…"

"Please don't tell me…" Kain starts weakly.

I rummage around a little deeper in my pockets and pull out a tiny stack of photos. "I have some right here!"

"Okay!" the Central medic exclaims, sounding panicky. "These two should be fine, they'll just need a week or so in hospital! You take it from here, Shaydin, goodbye!"

She sprints away.

"Well, she's missing out," I say as I watch her retreating back. I proceed to show the remaining people all the photos I brought, all of them apart from me totally oblivious to the fact that the only reason I'm showing them these photos is to take their minds off Roy's predicament.

Another use for the miracle that is my photos of Elysia and Gracia. I'm glad I have this skill of cheering them all up; it makes me feel happy myself. That's just one of my various odd skills and talents.

I just hope Roy's okay.

"…u…id…o…er… Stupi…ther… Stupid brother!"

H…huh…? Where…am I…? Why…can I hear…Al? Al… Alphonse… Yes. Al. Alphonse. Alphonse… Alphonse!

I snap awake, opening my eyes on stupidly bright light.

"…ow…! Stupid…shiny… Hurts…!" I mumble, closing them again.

"Brother?! A-are you…?!"

"Nn…Al? 'Syou? Where 'mai?" I lick my lips, smelling disinfectant. This is a hospital.

"Yeah, it's me. You're in Central City Hospital. Don't flip out; you'll only hurt yourself."

"Wh…wh'appened?" I slowly open one eye and then the other, allowing the world to align itself and stop being a smudgy mess. "'Ow long's I out?"

"A few days. From what I've been told, you, Lieutenant Hawkeye and another man had barely escaped from the rebel's headquarters. You burst out the front door, injured, and Lieutenant Hawkeye was unconscious. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes met you, and you told him to go find Colonel Mustang before you just…collapsed."

"Hn. Well, that's embarrassing," I mutter groggily, rubbing my eyes and glaring at the drip stuck in my flesh arm. Ugh. That's… That's just… Ugh.

It takes a few seconds for everything to sink in.

"Wait, is the Colonel still alive?!" I exclaim, my heart jumping inside my chest. "Did Hughes get there in time?!"

Alphonse hesitates. "Yeah, he's still alive…"

A small fuzz of relief loosens my chest a little, but the pressing anxiety remains. "Is he okay…?"

"He's…" Alphonse trails off. His eyes flick to the right. I follow his gaze.

I actually didn't know it was possible for a person to look so…hospitalified. He's practically plastered in bandages, all over his arms and across his forehead, several plasters on his cheeks and chin, and his right wrist is tightly bound in a cast. I can't see anywhere from the chest down, but it looks like he's got about twenty needles in his arms. Okay, I exaggerated. There are two needles in his arm. Which, in my experience, is a lot.

But that's beside the point.

"He's hurt really bad," Alphonse murmured. "They thought he was going to die at first, but he pulled through."

"How'd we get here?" I ask quietly. "And where's the Lieutenant?"

"Lieutenant Hawkeye's a room down. She's fine - just a little battered," Alphonse assured his brother. "First off they took you to a little hospital up north, and after they treated you and everything was stabilised they managed to transfer you to here."

"Oh." I let out a yawn, almost not believing how fantastically tired I am. "And what about Shaydin? The guy we were with?"

"He saved all of your lives," Alphonse said admiringly. "He told Mustang's men where they needed to go and everything. He's here at the hospital."

"What? Did something happen to him?"

"No," Alphonse answers. "He's working here. They hired him almost as soon as he got here because of how well he treated you three."

"Oh."

I yawn again, pulling aside the sheets of the bed to see my leg. It's probably twice as thick around because of the bandages, and I can hardly move it.

"I…I got shot, didn't I?" I mumble confusedly, feeling around the area tenderly.

"Don't touch it," Alphonse scolds. "You got hit in a very sensitive spot. Be careful."

"Yeah, I know. I bled out pretty damn fast."

Alphonse looks back at the door. "You say it like it's no big deal… Brother, you could have actually died out there…"

"I know," I respond softly. "I know…"

"I was scared, brother," Alphonse murmured. "I thought you were dead when they brought you in here."

"I thought I was dead as well," I tell him. "I knew exactly where that bullet hit. I was pretty…" I let out a mirthless laugh and go on to admit, "…I was pretty terrified too…"

We fall silent.

"So what'd they do to him?" I nod in Roy's direction. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"It's hard to tell. They're pretty sure he's going to live, though," Alphonse explains. "He got cut deep in the side, but it missed his vital organs. Two of his ribs and his right wrist are broken."

"Yeah, that happened during our first encounter with the rebels. Except the cut. That must've happened when he used himself as a decoy so we could get away…"

"There are a few bullet wounds on him as well, but they've mostly healed already," Alphonse continued. "And apart from that, it's just bruises and scratches."

"Alright then. And Riza's okay?"

"Yeah. She's got a broken ankle and there are a few bad scratches on her, but that's about it. Excepting all the horrible bruises she has."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

Yeah…

"Bro?"

"Hnyuh?" I flick my head back up, not having noticed I was about to fall asleep there. "Whassa…?"

"Never mind," Alphonse says dismissively. "Just try to rest for a while. The faster you get better, the faster you can leave. And to get better fast, you need to rest. So do that."

"'Kay," I mumble. "Will do."

"Good. I'll be around if you need me. And by the way, I found another lead while you were away. Just so you…"

"Mhm…" My head lolls forward and Alphonse's voice fades into the background.

"And next time it ever comes to a situation where our lives are at stake, don't ever issue an order like that!"

I nod a little. "Yes, I'll try to avoid it."

"Glad you understand," Riza says sternly from the wheelchair she's sitting in. "So don't ever do that again."

"Remember, Lieutenant, I'm still your superior. I have the highest level of authority on missions like that. If it preserves the life of the mission, it's necessary."

"Is it necessary if it means you die and leave your subordinates alone and vulnerable?"

"But I didn't. There were reinforcements there. And it turned out fine, didn't it?"

"Next time we mightn't be so lucky. You were minutes away from losing your life, sir. You can't keep taking that risk."

"But if you'd have stayed, who's to say we all might've have died? If Edward hadn't gotten that message out there, we'd all have been done for. Not even the four of us could have taken that monster."

"Ah, both of you shut up," Edward interjects lazily, cutting into our debate. He's sitting on his bed, a book resting on his lap and a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. "Your constant droning's getting annoying."

I look enviously at the food, scowling. I'm not allowed anything for at least another day yet and it's starting to drive me nuts.

It's been roughly a week since the incident up north drew to a dramatic end, and Edward gets more fidgety by the second. This is the first time Riza's been allowed to come in talk to us, and I tell you, I've copped a right earful.

I thought Edward's threats were bad. He did pretty much the same thing as soon as I'd come to - well, as soon as my brain was working well enough to comprehend the stuff coming out of his mouth.

There was a brief period where I was totally out of it, drifting aimlessly through a slight wakefulness tainted by exhaustion, blood loss and medication.

I swear, during that time I really thought Edward was a little girl who was looking for her lost zebra.

I settle myself into the strangely comfortable bed, looking out the window at my bedside.

"Alright. I'll admit my decision was a risk-"

I give the other two a second to absorb their half-victory.

"-but what else was there to do? And frankly, I'm just glad you two are both still alive."

Riza follows my gaze. "Yes, but…"

"No, 'but's, Lieutenant," I cut in. "My decision was risky, but it kept us alive. That's all there is to it."

Edward looks up from his book and over at me. I can't place the expression on his face, and all he says is, "Well, thanks."

"Don't expect me to save your butt again though, Fullmetal," I say loftily. "Learn to look out for yourself already, would you? I'm tired of acting as your babysitter."

"Look, I've shown you my gratitude, either take it or leave it!" he snaps grumpily.

I smirk a little. "You're welcome."

There's a short, peaceful silence that's interrupted by a loud, startling—

"Yo!"

"Good morning, Hughes," I mutter begrudgingly - he's got food too. I want some.

"Aw, is that any way to treat the man who saved your butt just the other day?" Maes complains, striding forward and tossing the last of his toast in his mouth and staring pointedly in my direction.

"So, is there any particular reason you came here?" I grumble, flicking my good wrist at him. "Or are you just here to rub in my face the fact that I can't eat yet?"

He feigns an apologetic expression and slaps a hand over his mouth. "Oh, sorry, Colonel! I had no idea!"

"'Course not," I snort sarcastically.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have brought all this food!" Maes settles himself on one of the little stools directly opposite. He pulls out a large chicken sandwich and munches on it, conversationally adding, "How's the weather?"

My stomach growls loudly and I tug on the bandages around my forehead. "Do you have to eat here?"

"I haven't even had my lunch break yet!" he protests over Edward's snickering. "I'm starved!"

I stare lasers across the room at him. Sometimes, I don't know why he's my friend. I don't even know why I bother to put up with him. He's annoying, loud, never does his work and won't stop talking about his family. He drives me nuts.

"And it's my way of making sure you don't do anything that stupid ever again."

Oh, right. That's why I'm friends with him. Because he looks out for me.

"Okay. I promise I won't."

Maes takes another bite of his sandwich. "By the way, that doesn't mean I'm gonna stop eating. I'm starved."

My stomach growls again, louder this time.

Edward's snickering grows louder and he's completely abandoned all efforts to hide it, openly mocking the fact that he has food and I don't.

That's the problem with all my supporters; they come with a price. They annoy me to no end, but I put up with them anyway.

We're a little pack of animals, watching one another's backs and fighting for our cause and survival. It's almost a good feeling, knowing there are people who are there to back me up now.

I kinda like it.

My gaze shifts from Maes to Edward, and I remember something. Although I've got my team to fall back on, Edward doesn't. I sort of need to figure something out…

Ah. I'll back him up, wherever I can. I don't want to risk that last escapade ever recurring.

Ever.

Edward's just too important to m…military benefits. This is nothing personal; he's just important to the military. That's all.

Three weeks later, a certain raven-haired colonel was roaming the streets of East City on his seemingly once-in-a-decade-event day off, when he spotted something that made him feel just a little bit happier;

A familiar looking medic, a little black-blue haired girl riding on his shoulders and an older woman by his side. All three were smiling, and none seemed to notice the man standing there as they passed by.

Roy smirked to himself. Pack animals, he thought. Humans are pack animals.

THE END!

Did you enjoy it? I loved writing it. However, it escalated to an almost ridiculous length (as you can see) so I decided to post it under it's own name.

Please review, they are appreciated beyond belief and I love them all (even the flames - I've never had one, but I'd probably take it as a compliment if I did).

Thanks for reading!