"I'm sorry, what the fuck did you just ask?" Edward asked.

He and Al had just arrived. Ed was fresh of the train from Resembool and he'd arrived in East City giddy with happiness (not that he'd admit it out loud, it was more of an internal giddyness) about Winry offering him her entire - well, eighty percent - of her life in exchange for his. He'd also been looking forward to seeing Al before they went their separate ways to the other ends of the country, and beyond. That happiness had crashed around him when he'd spotted First Lieutenant Breda.

Half an hour later, he and Al, who they'd picked up on the way, had been filled in on the situation, and he was now sitting opposite General Mustang while Al did the people person thing with Hawkeye in the living room.

Hawkeye. In the living room. Ed wasn't about to get over that any time soon.

"Human transmutation," Mustang repeated. "Are you sure it's not possible?"

Ed felt the palm of his hand itch, and he curled it into a fist. He just had to count to ten in his head, remember that Mustang had always been so fucking stupid about Hawkeye, and that punching him would only be temporarily satisfying. It'd also make Al pissed, and Ed didn't want to deal with a lecture from his younger brother, not over this anyway because it just wasn't worth it.

It wasn't even the question Mustang wanted to ask. He wanted to ask if it was possible to bring someone back from the dead. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

"You can't use alchemy to bring the dead back to life, Mustang." Ed said. "Trust me, we tried and look where that got me and Al." As if to prove the point, Ed wrapped his knuckles against his automail leg.

"And Mrs. Curtis?"

"Wha- oh, I forgot you met her," Ed said. "She didn't do it either. Whatever we made, it wasn't the people we wanted."

"So it's really her?" Mustang asked, his voice tinged with hope. "It's not something else?"

Ed had seen too much to discount the possibility that it could be something else. He'd battled homunculi, he'd punched Father-God in the face, he'd travelled around most of Amestris and seen the craziest shit that no one would believe if they hadn't been there.

"Envy could shapeshift, but we saw him die," Ed pointed out. "I don't know that this isn't some other crazy shit, considering our lives are full of it. But sometimes the obvious solution is the one to go with. Alchemy can't bring the dead back to life, Mustang. Just take my word on that, will you?"

Ed's explanation came out more like a grumble, a complaint that he had to repeat himself. It was Mustang's reaction, the flicker of emotional pain that was so clear even Ed could see it that made Ed immediately want to take it back and say it gentler, nicer. Even Mustang didn't deserve to be kicked when he was down. Ed knew what it was like, the relief that things could've been worse, and the guilt and torment that things had still been horrific.

Al had lost his body, but been sealed into armor so he didn't die.

They'd brought something back, but it wasn't their mother. At least they hadn't killed her.

Hawkeye had been taken, and she'd lost her memory. At least she was alive.

Yeah, Ed knew what that felt like. It felt like complete and utter shit, and that was putting it mildly.

"So, what do we do now?" He asked, silently pleading for Mustang to just get his shit together. "I presume you have some sort of plan?"

Mustang took a deep breath, and sat up straight, his face a mask. It was something, a step in a direction, at least. Time would tell if it was the right one or not.

"We know where she ran into Havoc's car. If she can retrace her steps then we might be able to find where she was being held. It's a longshot that there will be anything, or anyone, there, but it's our first major lead." Mustang said. "Fuery and Breda are going over the Promised Day files to find what we missed, if there's anything there. It's a shame Falman went back to Briggs, we could use his mind right now."

"And what about her?" Ed asked, jabbing his head in the direction of the living room so Mustang knew exactly who he was talking about.

"I'll ask Lieutenant Catalina to get her some medical attention, and see what they have to say about her amnesia." Mustang said. "After that, we'll figure it out."

"Just don't do anything fucking stupid."

"I could say the same to you, Fullmetal."

Ed scrunched his face up at the use of his former Alchemist title. "Yeah, whatever, old timer. I never do anything stupid." Not that Ed believed himself for a second. "I'll stick around until this is sorted, in case you need the help. Don't say thanks though, that'd be fucking weird."

People had been coming and going all day, Riza had noticed with some interest. Most of the time, they came and went without telling her what was going on, with the exception of Rebecca and Jean, who had the courtesy to tell her that they were going home for a change of clothes and a two hour nap. Rebecca had placed a slip of paper with her phone number on it, just in case 'General Sulkypants' got too annoying. Most of the time though, they came and went without a word, and considering most of the chatter that she overheard was about her, it was beginning to become incredibly frustrating.

There were new voices in the house now, ones that unsurprisingly she didn't recognise. To her, it was just more people to gawk at her awkwardly, who wouldn't know what to say about either her past or what had happened while she was gone, and who would gloss over parts of her past because they didn't want to talk about it and she didn't want to push them and hurt them more than she already had. The whole thing was a mess, and she was glad she had Hayate, because at least the dog didn't treat her strangely.

Both of the new people peeked in at her, both blonde men with a passing similarity to each other that made her think they were brothers, but one of them went into the kitchen with Roy - who was currently unable to look at her - and the other one came in and sat with her.

"So. How do I know you?" Riza asked, before he had a chance to speak. Might as well get the awkward reintroductions over with, so they could move on to the far more awkward discussion about how yes, she really didn't remember much of anything.

"I'm Alphonse," He said. Unlike everyone else, he smiled warmly at her. "I didn't expect you to recognise me anyway, last time we saw each other I was a suit of armor, or it's possible that I was a really skinny version of my brother, the first few hours after coming back are a bit of a blur, to be honest."

Riza blinked a couple of times, "A suit of armor?" She asked.

Alphonse nodded, and went into an explanation that he'd obviously done a few times, and had it well practiced. About his mother, about the mistakes he and his brother had both made in deciding to bring her back, how Edward had lost his leg, and he'd lost his entire body in the process, then how Edward had brought his soul back and attached it to a suit of armor in exchange for his arm. While the tale itself was almost impossible to believe, Riza wasn't surprised by any of it.

"Did your armor have pointy bits on it?" She asked. Whatever reaction Alphonse had expected her to have, this one obviously surprised him. "On the shoulders, and, I think the head? I just have this vague memory of a metal man holding me while fire rages around me and I'm screaming."

"You remember the fight with Lust?" He asked.

"Who's Lust?" Riza asked.

"One of the homunculi." Alphonse replied, and at the lost look on her face he begun to explain what had happened prior to her going missing. He admitted that when it came to her role in all of it, there was a lot he didn't know and a lot of questions he hadn't asked but now wished he had, but he explained what had happened as best he could. Unfortunately, the whole thing just made Riza feel even more confused and lost.

"There really is so much I don't remember, isn't there?" Riza asked, feeling defeated and confused. How could she have forgotten something like that? She'd been under the impression that her life - with the exception of Roy's flame alchemy, and her father - had been normal. She'd had friends, a job, and a past that didn't feature anything stranger than her tattoo, but it wasn't like that at all. Memories that should have been burned into her had been either taken or locked away by something, and she had no idea what or how to get them back.

"You remembered me," Alphonse pointed out kindly. "We're all going to help you remember the rest."

It was true, there were snatches of memories mixed up in her head, they were impossible to place along a timeline and she had no idea what most of them meant. Maybe they were just locked up in her head somehow and she just needed to figure out how to get them back.

"Thank you, for explaining everything," Riza said. "And for saving my life before."

"You don't need to thank me for that." Alphonse insisted. "You would've done the same for me, for any of us."

"Would I?" Riza asked, and even to her own ears she sounded melancholy. "I don't remember."

Rebecca was delightfully out of breath as she and Jean collapsed into bed next to each other, grinning up at the ceiling in a post coital haze. She took a couple of deep breaths, giggled involuntarily and glanced over at Jean, who was reaching for a pack of cigarettes.

"Don't you dare smoke those in here, you know the rule." She snapped.

"Aww, c'mon, Becca." Jean said, and he leaned in close and nuzzled her neck, he placed light kisses down to her shoulder, which made her close her eyes and smile. "Please?"

"Ugh. Fine, just this once." She agreed.

They'd left the safe house with the intention of going back to hers, getting some sleep, having a shower, and then changing into clean clothes before they either headed back or went to HQ, depending on whatever had been decided in the few hours they'd be away. However, when they got back neither of them could sleep. It didn't matter that they were exhausted, both of them were too wired to relax, so Rebecca had decided to fix that in her usual fashion, by kissing Jean until she couldn't remember what had her so stressed in the first place.

Rebecca shifted around in the bed until she was comfortable, and closed her eyes. She was just drifting off to sleep, Jean's free hand brushing her hair gently, when the phone rang. Loudly.

"Ugh. No. I'm not here." Rebecca insisted, and rolled over and pressed her face against the pillow, while Jean chuckled. "Can't you get it?"

"C'mon, sleeping beauty. You know it's probably something to do with Hawkeye." He said, and nudged her until she got out of bed. She grabbed his shirt and slipped it on before going to answer the phone.

"Hello?" She asked, trying not to sound too annoyed until she knew who was calling.

"Lieutenant, I need you to come back to the safe house." Mustang said, and okay, now she didn't feel bad about being rude.

"Why, what have you done now?" She asked.

"I haven't done anything. I need you to take her to see a doctor."

Rebecca frowned, "Is Riza okay?" She asked. She'd only been gone a few hours, and her wounds were superficial enough that they were cleaned up with some rubbing alcohol and a few plasters. What could have happened since then?

"She's fine, I just want her to get checked out." He said.

"And what does she want?" Rebecca challenged.

"She's been MIA for two years, getting checked out by a doctor is hardly something worth discussing."

"So you haven't talked to her about this?" Rebecca asked. "Apart from the one awkward conversation this morning, have you talked to her at all?"

"Lieutenant."

"What?" She asked. "You can't just hide."

"Be here in an hour."

Mustang didn't wait for a response, and she slammed the phone down in frustration. It wasn't that she didn't understand, she did, she knew how difficult it was, but Mustang had always acted like he was the only one in the world that lost her, and anyone else grieving was infringing on his personal pain. Now Riza was back, and Rebecca knew how guilty he must be feeling, that they didn't search hard enough after the explosion that took out part of the medical tents where she'd been seen last, that they accepted the official line too easily, that she and the others had perished under the rubble. Rebecca knew how that felt, because she was feeling it herself. Every time she looked at Riza, it was like a stab through the heart, but that wasn't Riza's fault. It was her own.

"What's going on?" Jean asked from the doorway of her bedroom. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just pissed off at Mustang and upset about Riza." Rebecca admitted, maybe she was anything other than fine. "I have to go back and take Riza for a medical. You should get some sleep."

"Couldn't someone else do that?" Jean asked.

"Probably, but I'm the lucky winner." She crossed the space between them and gave him a quick kiss. "Go on, bed. I'm gonna shower and then head back out."

Riza closed her eyes against the harsh white light and tried to think about anything other than the feel of the hospital gown against her skin, and the prick of the needle as they drew another vial of blood. Her skin felt uncomfortably hot, and her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest at any moment. She really didn't want to be here.

It reminded her of The Lab. She hadn't talked about it with anyone, the white walls, the 'medical team' who poked and prodded her without explanation, and the beatings when she didn't do what they wanted her to. Although she couldn't remember what they had wanted her to do. There were no motives in her memories, no faces either, just disembodied voices and pain.

"We're almost done." The doctor said, and Riza nodded and tried to regulate her breathing.

While her thoughts wandered, she found that they more often than not kept returning to Roy Mustang. Why, she had no idea. Maybe it was that he was attractive, but she didn't think it was just that. Out of everyone, he seemed to know the most about her past, even if there were parts he was unwilling to talk about. How much did he know? And what were they to each other if he knew more than everyone else? These were the thoughts that she clung to, instead of the harsh light of her medical checks.

"There. All done." The doctor said. "You're a little underweight, but not alarmingly so. As for the rest, well. I'm sure it comes to no surprise to you that you have amnesia."

Riza answered this with a look of annoyance, and the doctor coughed awkwardly before he continued. "According to your x-rays, it doesn't look like you've suffered any head trauma, although there is evidence that you've suffered physical trauma in the past."

"Will my memories return?" Riza asked, not surprised by the results.

"There's no guarantee." The doctor replied. "There's a chance that you'll never remember your life previous to where your memories begin, but there's also a chance that you will. I suggest you try to familiarise yourself with your life before hand, even if you don't get your memories back, it'll help you feel less lost."

Riza nodded. "Can I get out of this gown now?"

The doctor stepped out of the room, and Riza listened as he explained the same thing to Rebecca outside the door as she changed back into the borrowed clothes. She'd need clothes of her own, and a place to stay, and a job. Would the military take her back if she couldn't remember being in it? And did she even want to be in the military? Riza had no idea how to begin rebuilding her life from the ground up.

Rebecca was waiting for her when she left the examination room. "So, you're a bit on the skinny side? I could've told you that." She joked. "Want to get some food?"

"What did we do for fun?" Riza asked, as they headed for the exit.

"We went shopping, ate food, went drinking, sometimes we'd sit around and eat Xingese takeout and complain about boys." Rebecca said. "Well, I'd complain about boys and you'd listen."

"How about something that doesn't cost money?" She asked.

"Oh?" Rebecca asked, and then got a wicked grin on her face. "Well, we could go shooting. I'll get you on the range, no problem."

Riza looked at the gun, and she took it in her hands and tested the weight of it. She couldn't tell you its name, or caliber, but she could take it apart and put it back together, and she knew how to shoot it. It was instinctive, like breathing.

Rebecca had looked incredibly stunned as Riza silently, and initially slowly, broken the handgun down into its smaller parts, and then quickly put it back together. Riza couldn't explain how she knew how to do it, she couldn't remember doing it before, but here she was.

"I swear, if you're still a better shot than me, I'm going to be pissed." Rebecca said, eyes still wide at Riza's skill with the weapon.

"Was I good?" Riza asked, the ear protection around her neck.

"They didn't call you the Hawks Eye for nothing."

"Whoever 'they' were had terrible imagination." Riza said. "Fine, lets see how I do."

Riza put the ear protection on, and the goggles to protect her eyes. She picked up the gun, she felt the comforting weight of it, the feel of it in her hands felt familiar, and she smiled to herself as she aimed and shot. Once her clip was empty, she hit the button to draw the paper outline of the man towards her, and with some satisfaction she noted that each bullet had met their mark.

"Okay, that's not fair." Rebecca said, from behind her. "You don't even remember ever shooting, and you're still better than me."

"Must be muscle memory." Riza said. "Or you're just not a very good shot."

Rebecca looked stunned, and Riza was seconds away from apologising when Rebecca started to laugh. "God, Riza, I really missed you." She said, once her laughter had subsided. "I know you don't remember but…"

"The list of things I don't remember isn't just limited to you," Riza pointed out. "Come on, let's go get some food and you can complain about boys or whatever it is you like to do."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, but I don't have any money so I'll have to owe you."

"Don't be stupid," Rebecca said. "This one's on me."