Flames and a Golden Sword

by whereSilencebegins

An impending war, a dark secret that could tear apart the country but through it all, Ed and Roy have found their happiness; in each other. Thing is, they may not be able to keep it...RoyxEd

14. Black Fire

A/n: Okay, so, yeah, this is chapter 14 again, sorry if I got everyone's hopes up. But it was brought to my attention that the part where Ed and Roy are reunited, Ed was out of character…How right you were! So after obsessing over it, I changed that part, in case anyone is interested. It's a lot better, I think, now than it was. Hopefully this time I got it right . Anyway, the real next chapter should be up by tonight, tomorrow the latest. Sorry for the wait!

Warning: I'm sure no one had forgotten but this is rated M for a reason. This is the chapter in which it begins!! *cheers* Anyway, it's pretty mild yet, no sex or anything (sorry if i got your hopes ) :( Also there is a brief scene of gore. It's not bad at all but if anyone is squeamish, you've been duly warned. Okay, I'm going to shut up now and let you read...ooo, before I forget, for all the wondeful reviews THANK YOU!! yup, now i'm done XD....

Fourteen

Al

Two straight days he had devoured book after book, practicing the transmutations on a small scale in the dark of his bedroom behind a locked door. Though he didn't pick up things as fast as his brother could, his alchemy had certainly improved. In the mornings after just an hour or two of sleep he would stumble down the stairs with the attempt at being normal, helping Granny Pinko with chores and going to town with Winry so she could order more parts for a local customer. They didn't notice anything at first but he didn't feel normal. He felt as though he was going through the motions of trying to be what he used to be, wearing a mask made of plaster that resembled him.

Al might have wondered why he was even bothering with such a farce; he didn't even know they would accept him at the front. He was too young, after all. Yet every night, as he poured over the old, musty books that had grown brittle with age and neglect, he watched the horizon, bright flashes of explosions and the even brighter, bluish evidence of an alchemical reaction. Then he would turn back to his books and his drawings and would try that much harder, his sharp eyebrows drawn down with stubborn determination.

Winry did notice, the second morning at the breakfast table. Al had been nearly asleep over his cereal bowl when a gentle touch on his arm had roused him so that when he glanced up, he was looking into worried, sky blue eyes.

"Al? Are you alright? You look really tired," kicking himself for being so obvious, he had forced himself to sit up straight and smile gently at the blond girl. The touch fizzing through him, succeeding in waking him up just a bit.

"Sure, Win, I'm fine. Just getting used to the quiet. It's really loud in the city," he lied, hating himself. But he couldn't worry the girl with the truth so when she started talking about a new customer that had come to her just the other day missing both legs, he listened, pretending for a while that he would not be leaving the place he loved once again.

Roy

Both he and Ed had left the office early that day, not waiting to hear from Riza or if she and Hughes had found anything on the soldier he had sent her to look up. It didn't really matter, as Hughes would call him anyway on a secure line with whatever they found. He had sent Riza because the Lt. Colonel had been concerned with what would happen when he was found out as he was going through official military files. They knew serious repercussions would result if they were found snooping around in private files. Which was why Riza had gone; she would make sure no one found out and if they did, they wouldn't talk by the time she was through with them. Roy had known Riza for nearly eleven years and he was still a little afraid of her on some occasions.

At any rate, it left his mind open to solve the mystery of the stone, which was what he was sure the thing with Dr. Marco and warehouse 7 was all about. As of yet, they didn't have any proof, other than the doctor's reaction when Ed had mentioned it. Hopefully, the book would have the answers they were looking for.

He had been rather impressed when he allowed the blond to question Dr. Marco. The kid had just plunged right in, no hesitations, bright eyes becoming sharp as swords, backing up his questions with steel. There had been a confidence in those wide eyes that came with a burning determination, an insatiable need to have the answers and if the dark haired doctor hadn't have been so afraid, he would have caved. Needless to say, Ed must have struck something within the older man, as the information he had given them before they left was obviously valuable.

Watching the teen like that, though, had drudged up yet another emotion within the Colonel to add on to everything else he felt about the boy. It was something like pride but that seemed too fatherly of a word and what he felt while watching the blond trying to pry information out of someone was defiantly not fatherly. It was more like, he wanted to tell everyone that the young Major, this incredible, amazing person was Roy's. That and every time he thought about it, he was hot for the boy. The talk he'd had with Ed yesterday had brought the subject to the forefront of his mind and now he couldn't stop thinking about it; what sex would be like with the blond alchemist. Because there was no denying it, they were headed that way fast. All that gold; hair, skin, eyes. And he wondered if the boy would flush that beautiful dusky color Roy was growing fond of. The metal would contrast interestingly with the heat from their bodies…

It wasn't all about that. As a matter of fact, for the first time in his life, it wasn't about the sex at all. That was just a plus. No, it was about Ed. Ed, with his fiery personality, the way everyone seemed to gravitate into his golden orbit, his strength and raging intelligence that he had seen intimidate quite a few people. The kid needed nobody to be able to shine with his bright, consuming light. That was what it was about. Now he was Roy's, everything about him, and the man would do his best to love every last facet of the jewel that was Edward Elric. More than that, he was thriving as a State Alchemist, as loath as Roy was to admit it. Each one of his valuable gifts came of use and he utilized each one to its max, which was considerable.

Which was why Roy was able to let the blond go and break into the library on his own. Marco was too terrified to tell anyone he had given information out about the book, so there was no danger from that end. He had already contacted Fury and told him to keep an eye on the police radio frequencies on the off chance there was a call made that mentioned the library but he was confident enough in the Major. The kid could handle this on his own. Roy would still have felt much better if he could have gone, even if it was just to offer the teen a getaway car but if something did happen, too many people knew his face and their secret investigation they had going would most certainly be jeopardized. Not to mention Ed had glared at him when he mentioned a second hand, put off by the Colonel's suggestion.

"What? You don't think I can handle it?" the blond had retorted, hands on his hips and eyes blazing, daring the older man to confirm it. Knowing it was a battle better not fought, the dark haired man had just sighed.

"Just be careful," was all he said and wasn't too confident in the rather rude snort he'd gotten in response. The boy had just climbed into that little black car of his, shaking his head as he did (which Roy rather resented; he couldn't help it if he was worried) and drove off, making the older man feel like some mother hen. He'd grumbled to himself as he returned to the house, pouring himself a rather potent glass of whisky and turning on some rock as loud as he could stand, probably pissing off his neighbors in the process. Oh well.

Maybe it was a good thing he didn't go as he now had time to come up with some falsified paperwork he needed to submit before his office started to raise suspicions. It needed to look like they were doing the work required of them rather than side missions that were the active undermining of the military itself. The less notice they got, the better because the more people who noticed them, the more restricted their movements became and that would be…inconvenient. But there still needed to be reports so he had to make them all up. Good news was he was getting rather good at fabricating paperwork.

Concentrating on moving a pen across white expanses of paper was rather more time consuming than it sounded and by the time he glanced up while reaching for his glass of fiery amber liquid, it was past eight and Ed had already been gone for an hour. He wondered, would it take an hour to break into a library and find a book? Perhaps, as he didn't know what kind of security the library might have but it couldn't have been too intense. The Colonel glanced at his clock once again, even though the hand had not moved since the last time and a frown marred his pale features. Normally he wasn't one to give into worry but he couldn't help think that they were up against a dangerous enemy with an unknown motive and endless resources. With a gulp of his drink, he tried to wash down the gnawing concern and go back to the papers spread out in front of him but his concentration had been efficiently broken and scattered like sand, impossible to be able to pick up the pieces.

Then he took to watching out his windows, leaning a hip against the sill and gazing at the darkening sky, the shadows growing longer as the clock ticked quietly behind him. He wanted to throw it against the wall because there was still no sign of the blond teen and with every sharp click it reminded him of that painfully obvious fact.

One hour became two and day faded into night. Every set of high beams that turned onto the street, his heart lifted just a little because it might, just might be the little black Eclipse readying to turn into his short driveway but every time, none of them slowed down, hissing right by the drive. Just like that his heart would plummet to his feet and he would return to waiting. Concern, by then had become a full scale storm raging within him, making him feel jittery, like he had drank too much coffee too early in the morning. If he had been one given to pacing, he would have worn a considerable swath through from the front hall to the music room, the only two rooms with windows that he could see the driveway from. Yet he stood still, waiting, watching.

That was how he was standing when the sharp blare of his phone sliced through the silence and nearly gave him heart failure. As it was his heart tried to claw up the back of his throat as he catapulted into the kitchen, nearly dropping the phone in his haste to answer it.

"Mustang," his greeting was sharp and breathless, surprising whoever was on the other end. There was a brief pause before a careful voice broke through the receiver.

"Colonel? This is Kain," the Sergeant's voice sounded strained, as if he really didn't want to be making this call and Roy had to take a breath before he snapped the poor guys head off.

"Yes, what is it?" he demanded, his voice still sharper than he would have liked and again there was that pause, this one weighing a little heavier than the last. Finally, Fury managed to stammer an answer. The dark haired man only stammered when he was nervous about something and that gnawing feeling was back, as if he was being plagued by a swarm of fire colored ants.

"I was listening to the radio like you asked and I thought you should know…the Central Library, the one in town…it was just…b-burnt to the ground," Roy nearly dropped the phone as shock whipped through him. He had been expecting something but not that. His mind was temporarily wiped clean, a blank slate that couldn't even hear the nervous clearing of a throat on the other end of the phone. All he could think, as irrational as it might have been was, that can't be true because that's where Ed is. Ridiculous because one had nothing to do with the other but it seemed his brain didn't want to accept it as truth because the fire was most likely why Ed had not yet returned.

"…Sir? Colonel Mustang, are you still there?" the words floated to him as if from very far away and he knew he should be saying something. His mouth was spewing words before he could even think of their meaning.

"Did they find anyone in the building?" even his voice sounded distant, as if it wasn't really his own, gruff, lacking all of its smoothed out edges. They most likely wouldn't report something like that over the radio but if there had been a call for an ambulance, then someone had probably gotten caught in the blaze. At least then he could stop guessing. But the answer he received dashed his hopes for a definitive answer.

"No, sir, there was nothing like that. If there had been someone in there, though, they wouldn't know yet. I called you as soon as I heard the call," and just like that Roy was spiraling down in a black pit of helplessness. He wanted to believe that Ed had gotten out of the library in time, that he had not been caught in the blaze. Yet the coincidence of the building being burnt to the ground the same night the blond breaks in to steal a book was not lost on him. The slightly worried tones of his subordinate asking if everyone was alright went unanswered as he thanked Fury in an empty voice and gently returned the phone to its cradle.

Over and over Roy wracked his brain for a something, some way he could go and find the blond alchemist. Each time he came up with nothing. But he couldn't do nothing and he was running for the little hook that held his car keys by the garage door only to be brought up short again with the infuriating thought that kept jabbing at him like a sharp needle, leaving him feeling helpless, useless. What could he possibly do to help Ed? Nothing. He couldn't do anything and it was nearly choking him in its intensity. Even rain didn't make him feel like this. The dark haired Colonel stood in front of the black face of the door, not seeing the faint scuff marks from errant shoes on its uncaring surface in the wake of the revelation that he had promised to protect the teen and had instead sent him out on an errand that could have proven fatal.

Why, when he learned how to start fires did he not learn how to put them out as well? The only thing he was good for was destruction. Destruction and fiery plumes that had been known to tear apart entire city blocks and really, what the hell for? Right then, in that space and time, he couldn't remember why he had ever thought that setting things ablaze was a good thing. And he had been too naïve to understand that putting the fires out might be just as useful as setting them. Of course, it was probably too late now anyway. If the building had been burnt to the ground like Fury had said, there was nothing anyone could do but keep the flames from spreading and hoping they would burn themselves out.

He was sick with the thought of the beautiful blond boy he had promised to take care of caught, trapped by a wall of unforgiving heat, bearing down on him, overwhelming him and why the fuck was Roy so God-damn USELESS!? So much so, he was choking on it, and one day he was going to die by it. But now, now Ed still wasn't pulling into the driveway and waves of helpless terror of losing the teen before he had even begun to know him, to love him were breaking over his head, slamming him into black sands until he felt battered and bruised. In those waves, too, was fury; a fury so bright it was going to ignite his bones and burn him to the ground as well.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, the straining ropes of control that had been restraining his roiling emotions snapped, bursting forth in a fit of violence that if he had been coherent, would have scared even himself. Never once had he ever allowed his rage to control him. Yelling fits were one thing but violence and destruction was something else. Yet he no longer even had any of his normal iron will to hold it back. It had crumbled asunder, reduced to nothing but ineffective ash and leaving him without anything but the black, consuming flames of rage.

It started in the mud room off the garage, shoes tearing holes into walls before he moved into the kitchen and littered the floors with glass and porcelain and expensive china. It was, perhaps, a good thing he couldn't locate his gloves as he would have done to his house what had been done to the library. Instead, he let the anger at his pathetic inability to do anything take over and tore through his house like a whirlwind, leaving him broken and empty once it had finished running its course.

Roy slid down the wall in his hall, shaking in the wake of his fury and buried his face in his hands, ignoring the sea of wreckage around him. Nothing else mattered if he had lost Ed. Not the stone, nor the war nor whatever it was the military and its king were up to. He would sit here, against this spot on this wall and let it melt into oblivion because Ed was dead and there had been nothing he could have done to stop it.

Ed

Darkness swathed him like a thick cloak as he limped along the back streets of Central most people who lived there didn't even know about, footsteps uneven and alarmingly loud in the quiet of night. The book weighed heavy in his arms, digging into his hip where he had propped it up. He was glad for the shadows, as it masked his progress through the city. Escaping a fiery grave had left him a little gun shy and more than a little paranoid. The less notice he drew to himself, the better.

The flames had already been raging when he rounded the bookshelf, stretching bright, orange fingers towards the ceiling, greedy and spreading fast. Ed didn't like fire very much; it reminded him too much of his past. The worst part of it was that his only route for escape had been cut off, blocked by a wall of hungry heat. Because the building housed books, there was enough fuel to sate the growing beast as it sucked the oxygen from the air, leaving him gasping, unable to catch a full breath. Smoke had become a thick blanket, clogging his nose and throat until he was gagging for air, leaning against the edge of a bookshelf for support. What made it worse was that his automail was picking up on the heat as it steadily intensified, nearly liquefying the connections and making sweat begin to clear tracks through the soot that was beginning to dust his skin.

Escape required quick thinking but for a long moment he couldn't form complete, coherent thoughts through the muddled haze of the screen of dark smoke. He was only able to watch the bright wall of flames whistling towards him, fear melting his bones and for a moment he had been sure that he was watching his own death racing at him, ready to consume him, turn him into nothing but a pile of ash. It would have, too, if the image of a pair of dark, slanted eyes hadn't snapped him from his daze. If he let the flames take him now, he would never be able to see Roy again; would never kiss him, never touch him, never be able to tell him that he loved him.

And just like that, he remembered he could do alchemy.

It wasn't like he had actually forgotten, but impending death had a way of slowing down cognitive responses. There wasn't anything he could do about the flames themselves, as he didn't have access to a water pipe or a material he could use to stifle them. That wouldn't have worked anyway for now nearly the entire library had been engulfed, backing him against an unforgiving wall, clutching the book that had started this whole thing to his chest. Yet the building itself could be manipulated in a million ways that would give him a route out of the library and away from the flames. So with the heat pressing oppressively against his face and the resulting smoke filling his lungs, making his vision hazy and hands shake, he pressed his palms together and the flash of the alchemical reaction was almost as bright as the fire.

Perhaps a tunnel burrowing under the entire block of buildings that let him out an entire street away was a little extreme but he was glad for it as the wailing of sirens cut through the silence, bright flashing lights racing towards the sight of the fire that was painting the dark sky an angry, ominous orange.

Fresh air slammed into him and knocked him to his knees where he spent the next ten minutes choking as his lungs tried to expel the dark, billowing poison that had seeped into his body. The rasping coughs echoed against the building he was using as a crutch but everyone was more concerned with the fire, residents being drawn from the safety of their homes to see what all the commotion was about. No one noticed the blond boy leaning against a dark brick wall, looking for all the world like he had just escaped a burning building and was desperately trying to catch a breath.

All the while, the book that he was beginning to hate the feel of as it rested innocently in his arms, had remained clutched against his chest. He had almost died for this damn book; there was no way he was letting it go.

Still feeling a little dazed and somewhat dizzy, throat aching like a red-hot brand had been shoved into his mouth, he pushed off the wall and was eternally glad he had thought to park his car three blocks away just in case. Of course, he had not been thinking fire at the time but now no one would know he was there. Of course, smoke inhalation was no small thing so it had taken him nearly a half an hour to walk nearly three blocks, having to stop every couple minutes to double over and try to suck in more air as it seemed his lungs were having trouble on their own. He really just wanted to climb into his car and go back to Roy's where he could collapse on the first available soft surface and pass out. Though, maybe the older man would let him sleep in his bed again.

Except his car was not where he had parked it.

Ed stared at the spot he remembered leaving his car blankly, not quite sure what was going on. It took a long moment for his smoke addled brain to register that his little black Eclipse wasn't there yet when the thought caught up to him, he still could only stare. This part of the city was pretty clean when it came to car theft but it did happen. Maybe, he reasoned, he had just walked down the wrong street, as his vision was still a bit iffy, passing into vague blurs every once and a while. So he shuffled back to the corner to find that, no, he was on the right street. Except that put him back at where the hell is my car?

It hit him in the gut, like two tons of bricks had just come rocketing at him and slammed into him with the force of a speeding bus. Someone knew. Someone had found out that he was in that library, looking for that book and was making sure he didn't come back to tell about it. His car would just become a loose end if it were indeed an attempted murder. Rather sloppy, if anyone asked him, as he wasn't the youngest State Alchemist for nothing. The fact remained, however, that with his car missing right after he had nearly been killed by a fire that should never have started in the first place, this entire thing had been done intentionally.

It also meant that Marco hadn't been as afraid as he had thought to keep the fact that Ed and Roy knew about the book to himself. Because that was the only thing it could be. Ed sure as hell hadn't told anyone and he knew Roy wouldn't. He'd been careful not to be followed, either. Not that he was any kind of expert at things such as breaking and entering but he was pretty sure he had been careful to the point of paranoia. The only likely conclusion was that someone had gotten to Marco and forced him to talk. Abruptly, the blond was reminded of what Envy had said to him in the military's library the other day and chills washed down his spine. "I'm keeping an eye on you, Fullmetal," He had stepped back into the shadows, then, that insistent prickling at the back of his neck prodding at him, agitating him even more than he already was. Maybe whoever had taken his car had just done him a favor as he would be harder to track if he was on foot and could utilize the back streets rather than sticking out on the empty sidewalks like a sore thumb, drawing attention to his scruffy condition every time he walked under a street lamp.

Walking, however, had its disadvantages as well. The city's main library had been close to his own apartment but was almost across the entire expanse of downtown from the military headquarters and Roy's house, while close to the headquarters complex, was in the opposite direction. In other words, it was fucking far and in his incapacitated condition, would most likely take him almost all night to get back. If only he had some way to contact the older man so he wouldn't worry.

Now, the young blond alchemist had lost track of how long he had been tiptoeing his way in the shadows. The moon had risen a long while ago and hung heavy and swollen in the sky. He would have thought a full moon would have worked to his disadvantage but because the streets were brighter than usual, the shadows where the silvery light didn't fall were that much deeper. Although, because of that, Ed had nearly killed himself on a broken crate laying haphazardly in an alley that he hadn't seen until it leaped up and tripped him, causing him to twist his single real ankle as he was sent sprawling. Because of the shock, another coughing fit ceased him, wracking through his body until he felt so raw, he was sure with the next one, he'd be spewing blood.

Somehow, though, he picked himself off the grimy ground, breathing labored, retrieving the cursed book from where it had skidded away when he'd fallen and started walking again. Though, he supposed walking was a relative term as pain shot through his leg every time he put pressure on it, forcing him to slow his already crawling pace.

This night had not exactly gone to plan. Things just kept going from bad to worse and all he really wanted was to curl up with a good book, his feet using a certain black haired Colonel's lap for a foot rest with nothing more on his mind than the story created with lines of black print and the warmth of the man he lay beside. Instead, this happened. Though, perhaps that was what happened when he went charging in, guns blazing without having given thought to anything past what his final objective was. He realized he should have been used to this kind of thing by now, though he had never come so close to actually dying before.

One foot in front of the other, each step bringing him that much closer to the warm embrace of a comfortable bed and a man with dark, dark eyes that blazed with a black fire so unlike the one that had nearly killed the blond and yet, very much the same.

Roy

He knew anything could have happened. He knew Ed, being the resourceful, quick thinker that he was, had most likely escaped the blaze that had brought an entire library down in a matter of twelve minutes. It was too early to despair and he knew that. Yet every time he thought of blazing flames, the kind he was so familiar with and had used himself was a means for destruction bearing down on the young alchemist, a new wave of agonizing fear poured through him. The reason he had sent Ed out by himself in the first place was because he knew the kid could handle himself should anything happen. Even so, the worry had grown into this great knot that swelled in his stomach until it pressed into the back of his throat and he could barely breathe.

There was that dim hope, dwindling further as time continued to pass and there was still no evidence of the young blond, that perhaps, just perhaps, the kid had escaped. Had escaped and was right at this moment making his way back, back where Roy could touch him again, where the gnawing worry would be eased, become nothing more than just another painful memory. He wanted to feel foolish for his concern; foolish and relived and secure in the knowledge that the kid was with him once again, safe, unharmed.

It was this tiny spark of hope that sought the smallest breath of oxygen so it could become a full fledged flame and had him picking himself up from amid the shards of what was left of his house. He flicked the outside light on, the one that hung over the porch and stepped out the door, leaving it open simply because he couldn't care less if it was closed. The more light to usher Ed home again, he figured, the better. With that, he propped himself on the wooden steps, leaning against the white railing and prepared himself to wait. Wait until that little spark was dashed into nothingness or fanned to blazing life, when he found out if the blond still lived…or not.

Ed

His lungs burned. His ankle hurt. His body felt as if he had been mauled by a bear and he was sure if the book in his arms got any heavier, he would keel over, unable to move again for a long while. Long ago he had stopped thinking about the actual action of walking and he just let his feet take over, thoughtlessly placing one in front of the other. The automail foot never got tired, thankfully, but the connections did start to ache if he was putting pressure on them for a long enough time and now he was compensating for a twisted ankle that gave a sharp twinge every time he took a step.

Vaguely he remembered passing the headquarters complex but he didn't really recall exactly when. For all he really knew, he could have been walking in the opposite direction of Roy's house.

But no, this was a familiar street, the name on the sign sending his heart soaring and giving him that much more energy to round the corner and…yes, there, the fourth one down on the left and it was lit up, as if every single light had been turned on to welcome him back. It stood out in the darkness that was beginning to ebb with the onset of dawn, an extension of promised warmth that pulled in him like an embrace. That house became the entirety of his attention, its large windows and bright porch the only thing that was truly in existence.

One foot in front of the other, relief making him even weaker as he limped closer, ever closer to the promise and the man with the dark eyes.

Ed was at the beginning of the walk, the light beginning to touch his skin, warming the ice that the long, empty night had placed in a block of ice under his breast bone when he saw him, Roy, sitting on the porch steps, dark head bowed, looking lost. The blond, despite his desperate need to just sit down, paused at the first slate of the pathway and had to swallow the sudden urge to throw himself at the older man because he was pretty sure he had never been so happy to see anyone in his entire life.

"Roy…" he whispered, knees weak with a surge of relief. So much so that he could barely even keep himself upright, even taking one more step nearly impossible with the force of it. But the name on his lips, slipping free, tasted so achingly sweet, "Roy…" and the dark eyes jerked up, met his own and he was home.

Roy

By the time dawn began to creep long, pale grey fingers across the sky, he had fallen into such a deep pit of hopeless despair, it might have been the deepest, darkest part of an endless night. He couldn't even continue to keep watching the street as no one had driven down it for a long while and he couldn't stand the way his heart would lift every time a bright pair of headlights swept past only to crash in a burning wreckage every time when they just passed on by. His phone, too, remained ominously silent, as if it was afraid to ring lest he tear that apart too. There was no danger of that now, though. All the fury had leaked away, dwindling along with the dying night and he hung his head, in hideous defeat.

At first he didn't notice in his own pathetic misery the bright gaze watching him from the shadows at the edge of the path because he was contemplating what he would do if he had really lost the blond alchemist. Something that would require more flames and a rather violent and bloody stint of revenge, he was sure. It was the husky voice, nearly a broken whisper of his own name that had his attention arrested, his heart leaping nearly through the roof of his mouth.

He was positive he was going crazy when he first saw the blond teenager standing, half submerged in dark shadows watching him at the top of his driveway, one foot already on the path leading to the porch. Just a premonition, a hopeful hallucination his mind was making up in his grief. Then the voice spoke again and it caressed him, stoking the fire to life, the fire that ate away the fear and the anguish.

"Roy," And it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, even as shattered as it was. He noted the way the bright hair was dulled with soot, falling around the kid's face in stringy, dirty strands and how dark streaks marred the golden skin, dark clothes looking as if they had seen better days. The bright golden eyes that were normally glittering with expression were dulled, shadowed, as if the teen had a night he'd rather forget. Dark circles ringed the wide pools of yellow sunlight, a testament that this night was indeed over and neither of them had slept at all. As he watched, the younger alchemist shifted his weight and winced, favoring his right leg as if he had injured it.

And just like that, he knew this was real. Ed was back, alive, here, despair melting into bone melting relief, so acute it actually hurt, stealing away his breath. It didn't matter if he couldn't breathe. Nothing mattered because Ed was back.

Ed

When deep onyx eyes lifted to meet his own just as he spoke, he was shocked at the level of agony he found in the dark gaze, as if Roy had been counting every single minute the younger alchemist didn't come home and with each passing strike of the clock, he had aged another ten years. He had known the older man would have been worried but not to this extant. Ed swallowed under the flat gaze, hating himself for taking so long and making that particular expression take hold of the handsome features.

Then the man's face changed, fifty years sliding away as the dark haired man must had realized what he was seeing was, in fact real. The aching relief that seemed to flow through the Colonel's entire body was like a light had been switched on under the pale skin so that he practically radiated the overwhelming release from hopelessness. Never, in his entire life, had he felt more important or more needed than he did right then, warmth seeping under his skin and he knew he was blushing, the knowledge that this man felt deeply enough for him that he could wear that expression burning through him. He wondered absently what he could have done for something such as this and he shivered under the heavy weight of it when the taller man unfolded himself from the step he'd been perched on. The dark eyes refused to leave the teen's face, drinking in every single detail as if Roy had been drowning, making him feel unsteady on his feet. Ed thought for a moment he would fall over, be knocked down because this beautiful, dark haired man he had needed like his lungs needed air had looked as if he would die without him, as if Ed was his entire existence, the reason he kept breathing. The blond watched him come closer, barely hearing his own voice as he breathed the older man's name.

Before he realized what was happening, he was being scooped up like some invalid into Roy's arms, to which he let loose a rather loud and indignant squawk. He might have protested but for a moment he let himself be an invalid. The arms supporting his weight at his shoulder and back of his knees were like steel, holding him close to a steady warmth that drove away the events of the night so that for a moment he didn't have to remember. Wordlessly, he finally let go of the book, letting it rest against his stomach and wrapped his arms around the older man's neck, holding tightly as if he was drowning. He felt as if he was. Drowning in dark waters of the overwhelming sensation of feeling safe. Safe because he was here and Roy was holding him and for now, nothing could touch him. He glanced up into the pale features and chills washed over him at what he saw. That relief was still there, burning beneath the surface but this stillness was something else, a calm like he'd never seen before. It was unlike the normal, confident mask the man usually wore. Where that one normally just hid what the Colonel was feeling, he sensed that this time, it was like Roy was holding something back, something strong and potentially volatile that might result in some nuclear sized reaction and take out the whole block. The image would have been rather amusing if Ed wasn't so afraid of what he might find once that mask slid away to reveal what was underneath.

The front door was wide open as if the older man had just forgotten to close it in the wake of his turmoil and another wave of guilt washed over the blond. He hated himself all over again because he had been the source of Roy's concern that had driven him to such distraction. Then Ed got a glimpse of the inside of the house and he gaped, shocked.

Glass and shards of china, plaster and wood littered the floors as Roy made his way through the bright hallway, crunching underfoot as he walked. As they entered the kitchen, the wide, golden eyes nearly fell out of his head. It looked as if a tornado had whipped through the normally tidy space, tearing apart the cabinets and tossing the plates and glasses haphazardly to the floor were they had been left to shatter against the dark wood. The table had been upended and only one chair was still intact, tipped back against the far wall. The entire contents of the counter had been strewn across the expanse of the large kitchen, a crystal vase lying broken beyond repair amid the sad remains of a dozen yellow irises, tiny shards of glass twinkling on the brightly colored petals.

All in all, the place was a wreck, complete with entire gouges in the walls, gaping obscenely in the warm golden light of the chandelier that he was pleased to note had remained untouched. He stared around, shocked at the force of violence that had torn Roy's house apart as the man himself righted the single chair that was useable and finally settled the blond into it.

"What the heck happened in here?" he addressed the retreating back of the older man as he wove his way through the destruction to the refrigerator and rummaged around in the freezer. His voice was raspier than normal from the smoke, deepening the tenor so that he barely recognized it as his own. Yet there was still no response, the silence heavy, of the way the dark eyes were closed off, showing him absolutely nothing. Only the sound of shoes kicking pieces of plates across the floor could be heard as the Colonel made his way back to the now glowering blond, a bag of ice clutched in one hand. His back was tense, movements stiff as he knelt down in front of the chair Ed sat on, jerking off the blonde's boot without so much as a by-your-leave. Slighty embarrassed, he reached out and tugged on the older man's shirt.

"You don't have to do that," he whispered and jerked when a warm hand wrapped gently around the swollen joint to press the ice against it. The gesture was unbearably tender and he swallowed hard, wincing at the pain in his throat. He watched quietly as the long fingered hands rolled up the bottom hem of the denim pant leg and shivered once again as they brushed against the skin of his leg. Yet the touch was fleeting, as if Roy was afraid to touch him, to accept he was real and Ed wracked his brain. This side of the Colonel was beginning to worry him but he had no idea where to even begin. In hopes of dragging the older man from his shell, he nudged a knee with his other shoe.

"I got the book, by the way, though the damn thing almost got me—HEY!" his voice cracked along what was left of the walls, indignation making his smoke-riddled voice crack. Roy's eyes had tightened at the mention of the book, the black losing its normal luster before he snatched the large tome from where it had been sitting innocently on Ed's lap, sending it flying across the wooden floor to join the rest of the remains of his kitchen as it slid to a stop against a wall. Incensed, the blond thought about braining the older man with a metal fist as he cried "I nearly died for that damn thing!!" and was brought up short by what the Colonel did then. The older man had leaned forward, fingers slipping on his hold of the ice against Ed's ankle and pressed his face into the blonde's leg. Cool fingers slid up his pant leg, stopping just below the bend of the back of his knee as hot breath shuddered against the dark, dirty material of his jeans. Gold eyes looked down on the top of the dark head, surprise making them wider than they already were.

The guilt came back in a large, cresting wave, when he noticed the taller man was shaking, the small vibrations working through the touch on the blonde's leg. There was no noise, no more words spoken and he thought absently that he hated that book that had been the cause of this whole mess as he sunk tan slender fingers into the mass of black hair spilling over his lower thigh and bowed his head so warm gold mixed with cool black as he pressed his forehead to warm silky strands that looked to have been woven from little pieces of night sky.

"Roy, I'm right here. I came back," he whispered, lips moving against the silky hair, trying to gain control of the feeling of sobs trying to climb up the back of his throat. The grip on his calf tightened as the older man continued to tremble slightly under the force of the emotion that he kept refusing to show the blond. Finally, under the soothing caress of the younger alchemist's fingers on the back of his neck and the soft kisses Ed was raining in his hair, he broke the self-imposed silence, deep voice rough, broken with uneven edges grated raw with strain.

"Please, don't. Just promise me. Promise you'll never do that to me again," the words were slightly muffled against his knee and the fingers on his leg were beginning to hurt but he just continued to run his fingers against the back of the pale neck, soft hair tickling his fingertips . They both knew that with the nature of their line of work, he couldn't make such a promise and be expected to keep it. And Ed never made a promise he didn't intend to keep. He squeezed his eyes shut, biting back the unfair ache that he couldn't make such a promise. Because he wanted to. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life in this wreck of a kitchen, arms wrapped around this man's neck and nose pressed into hair smelling of night skies, clean sweat and Roy.

"I'm sorry. I can't make a promise like that," and he had to bite back a wince when the grip on his leg became almost unbearable, the dark haired man grunting softly like he wanted to deny Ed's words vehemently but he couldn't find a reason so let them fly free. Suddenly their contact wasn't enough and he was sliding off the chair and slipping into Roy's lap, arms curling securely over the broad shoulders. Hands circled around his waist, holding him tightly, pressing him against the bigger man's chest. He looked up into deep, dark eyes, finding roiling emotion there that had his heart stuttering like a great storm rumbling in dark skies was bearing down on him, leaving him defenseless. "I'm sorry, Roy," he whispered and the eyes changed just a bit, letting him in, letting him see just what it was behind those eyes that burned so hot it nearly seared him to ashes.

"I know," Roy whispered and he was being pushed to the floor, gently, debris pressing into his side and back. But that barely mattered for the bigger man hovering over him was leaning in, pressing all of that dark fire against Ed's mouth so that it seeped through him, making him ache all that much more. It was brutal, the kiss, his mouth being plundered with unforgiving violence, teeth clashing together painfully, hot tongue rendering him incoherent. He could taste the rage that had torn through the house and the fear and he closed his eyes tightly, opening his mouth without protest. It might have been rough but it felt so good, the slick muscle sweeping past his lips, over his teeth, touching everywhere until he knew nothing but Roy; Roy's touch, Roy's lips…God, he had become everything.

It was the blonde's small, choking whimper that had the dark haired man pulling away, leaving them gasping for air, the heaving intakes of breath hurting his throat. He hadn't meant to make it sound like a protest, though it didn't seem that the older man had taken it as one, just sweeping long, pale fingers down a tawny cheek and Ed clung to the broad shoulders, trying to regain his bearings. Then the Colonel gave a tiny smile, barely a quirk of his lips, eyes still burning with passion.

"Next time, I'm coming with you," the deep voice was rough but quiet and the younger alchemist threading his fingers through ebony hair gave a shy smile as he looked up into the deep pools of obsidian.

"Yes, mother," he breathed and Roy ducked his head with a small snort before Ed leaned up and kissed a pale cheek, grinning for all he was worth. That Roy felt this strongly for him he would react so strongly pleased him more than he wanted to admit. He felt giddy when the older man sighed and stretched out next to him on the floor, dark head pressed into the crook of his shoulder as strong arms wrapped around him and held him close to the steady warmth of the bigger man's body. They didn't say anything for a long, moment as he watched the room brighten gradually, fingers of one hand stroking hair the color of midnight while the other tangled with a strong hand, the even thrum of Roy's heartbeat pressed to his abdomen. He might have thought that in a moment such as that they might have done more than kiss but he was content to just lie on the cool floor and let reality slip over him because this was perfect.

Finally, though, he had to say something or he'd fall asleep like that and then he never would get up. So he cast his gaze around the room and he felt his lips twist wryly, the destruction of Roy's kitchen suddenly amusing.

"So, um, just what did happen in here?" his voice came out rough, like he had swallowed a cheese grater and the dark head turned slightly against his shoulder only to have the dark haired man groan pitifully, hiding his dark gaze in his shirt he was sure smelled like burning books.

"I got mad," was all he got and he raised his bright eyebrows, eyeing a gaping hole in the sheetrock across from where he lay with new found respect. He knew Mustang was scary when he got pissed but not like this. This took it to an entirely new level. Unable to resist the urge to tease, he pretended incredulousness.

"What, at your kitchen!? Christ, Roy, what did it ever do to you that it deserved this?" And just like that the atmosphere lifted just a little bit as the Colonel snorted a laugh, grip tightened on Ed's before he pulled away, sitting up, taking in the teen's small grin with that bottomless dark gaze. He didn't want to seem happy that Roy had ripped apart his kitchen because he wasn't. Rather, it was the reason for the emotion behind the impressive tantrum (for that was what it was, really). Apparently, as was evident by his behavior, the older man had thought he'd lost the blond and that was why he smiled. He was nearly choked with the overwhelming feeling that the man cared for him that much that he would lose all sense and control at the possibility that Ed might have been hurt…or worse.

His gold eyes found their way around the kitchen again as he too sat up and shifted in the debris he had been laying in so he was leaning against the older man's shoulder, hugging his arm. A warm hand slipped into his hair, lips caressing the shell of his ear, making him shiver. Then a thought came to him as he watched the light catch against the shard of a piece of plain china plate.

"You know," he said slowly, wincing at the rasp his voice had become, fingers digging into his sooty blond hair and a little sigh escaped as long fingers massaged his scalp, "I can fix this, if you want," the hand stilled and he pulled back so he could turn his head and was sucked into great, fiery pools of obsidian.

"What? You mean with alchemy?" it was Ed's turn to snort at the hopeful tone bleeding into the deep, smooth voice. He flicked the pale forehead with a metal finger, making the older man wince.

"Well, duh, with alchemy. How else?" he chided and was rewarded with a lopsided grin, "Though, it might take me a while," he said flatly and Roy actually hung his head, a pale flush dying the tips of his ears and his sharp cheekbones a light pink. Ed stared at it, amazed as the gentle color actually made the man look like he was no older than the blond. With a sigh, he stood, ankle giving a painful reminder that it was still swollen but he ignored it and walked over to the worst wall. He clapped his hands and started the tedious task of cleaning up the mess the older man had made. For the welcome he received that morning, he would have done it a thousand times over.

**

Ed was half way finished with the destruction in the kitchen when the sun had fully risen, reminding them that neither of them had slept in twenty four hours and it was still a work day. The table and chairs had been righted and fixed, as had been just about all of the walls. He was working his way through the shattered remains of the dishware and glasses when he started to choke again, lungs still raw and aching from the amount of smoke he had breathed in earlier that night. Roy had looked at him in alarm from where he was rescuing some of the plates that had remained miraculously unscathed and a second later he was back on the chair with a glass of water being pressed against his lips. Annoyed, he accepted the glass and waved the older man away.

"I'm fine," he grunted after downing most of the cool water, "it passes," but the baleful look he was getting from the dark haired Colonel was less than appeased.

"You don't look fine," it was a low growl and Ed bit his lip to stall the stupid grin as he looked up into the dark eyes, knowing he shouldn't be enjoying the older man's concern so much but was unable to help himself. "The rest can wait. Why don't you go up to sleep?" and the gold flattened then because he knew that neither of them could miss work that day. He shook his head, pushing errant strands of sooty blond hair behind his ear.

"Roy, we both have to go to the office today," he rasped, watching the dark eyes take in the truth of his words, "If we don't then they're going to know we had something to do with the fire," and he shivered, thinking of the chilling feeling of walking all the way back from the library feeling like someone was watching him the entire time. Roy brushed back another loose strand of dulled golden hair, the look in his eyes somewhat rebellious.

"You look tired," was his soft reply and Ed grabbed the hand before the older man could pull it back, plating a kiss in the middle of the warm palm. The deep onyx eyes lit up with some internal fire, blazing brightly in the lightening kitchen. Dark shadows marred the pale skin under the dark gaze, making Roy look his thirty-odd years and the blond kissed the palm again, lips lingering against the slightly calloused skin before he let the man go, lifting his gold eyes with a rueful smile.

"So do you but how would it look if we both skip today? I really just need a shower," So the dark haired man helped him to his feet, though he really didn't need it and made as if to pick him up again by Ed discouraged that with a quick dash of his automail to the side of a dark, shaggy head, "Don't you even think about it!" but the dark gaze lit up with mischief and the blond backed away as the taller man advanced, beginning to panic, "Really, Roy, knock it off! Come on!!" and he took off down the hall, his bad ankle forgotten as the older man lunged at him, a grin on his pale, handsome features. He caught the slender waist with one arm, forcing Ed to nearly fall on his face while he howled in indignation before the blond fought his way free, renewing his flight through the hallway.

Ed let out a shriek as the Colonel almost caught him again at the staircase, deep laugh ringing out to echo through the large entry way that had somehow escaped the taller man's rampage before he plunged up the stairs and locked himself in the bathroom, panting with breathless laughter. He could hear the dark haired man skidding to a halt just outside the closed door, chuckling throatily.

"And get me my damn uniform, you oaf!!" he screamed through the door and was answered with another deep, bright laugh as the footsteps retreated. As he leaned against the door, grinning like an idiot, he forgot just for a moment that he had nearly gotten burnt to a crisp just a few short hours ago for a book that might hold the answer to why their country was at war in the wake of dark eyes that looked at him as if he was the entire world and a smile that shone as bright as that night's full moon.

**

Warm, soothing water washed the soot away, swirling darkly at the bottom of the white tub as he scrubbed sweet smelling shampoo into his long hair for the third time, finally beginning to feel somewhat clean. Roy had slipped his uniform through the door after he'd already turned the water on to heat up and he'd had a panicky, giddy moment where he thought the dark haired man was going to join him. But the Colonel had respected his boundaries, just cracking the door open enough to stick his hand into the room and Ed had taken them with a shy "Thank you," to which he received a soft response before the door closed once again. Wide gold eyes had stared at the blank, white surface of the door, heart dancing on the back of his tongue before he kicked himself and dumped his uniform onto the sink counter, calling himself every name for a fool. Of course Roy wasn't just going to barge in on him. Respect was one of the things he liked about the man, though he was willing to admit there wasn't much he didn't like.

Yet now he couldn't stop thinking about it, what would have happened if the man had joined Ed in the bathroom, if the blond had called out, inviting the older man in. Heat flooded through him at the thought, the spray from the shower head suddenly almost unbearably warm on his flushed skin. The blond didn't really have much experience when it came to this sort of thing, besides the few kisses he had shared with the older alchemist but he knew what those fiery kisses had done to him on several occasions and he knew what he wanted to do. And as he stood under the falling water from the wide, silver showerhead, he couldn't stop thinking about what just might have happened, what could have been happening now instead of him getting clean.

And hard. Ed glanced down and frowned. Between thoughts of smooth, pale skin, dark, slanted eyes and the heat from the water, he'd begun to ache in a way that was rapidly becoming familiar. Before when this had happened, he had willed it away but now he seemed to be unable to. Really, he thought, staring at the title in front of his face as he tried to ignore the growing ache between his thighs, he couldn't do this now because how would he explain why he had taken so long in the shower and made them late for work? Or if Roy heard him. But it seemed his cock wasn't listening as it stood, fully hard, brushing against the soft skin of his flat abdomen and he bit back a groan. One side of his brain was trying to be rational, reaching one hand out to turn the cold water on full blast yet it seemed that hand too had a life of its own.

Before he realized it, his own fingers were wrapped securely around the base of his erection, the pressure shooting straight through him and he dropped his head back against the slick tile, dark gold hair plastered to his body. Ed closed his eyes to the spray of water still washing over him and let himself imagine Roy as his own hand moved, Roy with his dashing good looks and gaze that sometimes smoldered like he was made of dark, black fire. Smooth skin the color of cream and it would be smooth under Ed's finger tips like it was at the back of the man's neck, following the dip and curve of long, elegant bones and defined, chorded muscle. He thought of how it might taste if he dipped his tongue into the crevices of sinew and ligaments that slid easily under the light skin as pleasure of his own making seeped into him, making him weak and his heart thunder in his ears.

Ed moved his hand faster, slick with warm water and the beginnings of his release, eyes closed tightly as stars began to glitter over his vision. He wanted to feel this, this spiraling, searing heat as it turned his bones to liquid, weakening his knees and forcing him to shove a fist in his mouth so that his needy groans wouldn't start echoing against the tiles. All the while, he thought about what it might feel like if it wasn't his own hand sliding up and down his length, drawing him closer to that mind-numbing release but another hand, paler, bigger as dark eyes watched him hungrily, smooth voice encouraging him with soft words, telling him to let go.

That did it. With one final yank and twist of his fist he was arching against the damp wall, spattering his hand and chest as he came, glittering stars filtering over his vision and stealing his breath for a long moment. And despite his hand pressed against his mouth, he was unable to stop the breathy, groaning cry that was flung to the ceiling.

"Ah, ROY!" Metal didn't stifle sound very efficiently, it seemed. Then he was empty, sagging heavily against the tiles and the patter of the falling water suddenly sounded too loud as his heart slowed down. He slid down the wall, legs unable to support him, metal limbs scraping against the porcelain lightly and watched as he stuck a shaky hand under the cooling water, pearly cum mixing with the clear water before washing away. A detached calm had settled over him, his thoughts sluggish, synapses taking their time in firing up again. Breath steadied slowly but he still watched the water dripping against his hand, white porcelain cold against his back and legs that were sprawled at the bottom of the tub. His hair was caught in the little eddies that swirled near his metal heel before the water was sucked down the drain and he was transfixed with the notion that perhaps, next time, he might not need to do that by himself.

Roy

The Colonel had stood at the bathroom door after he slipped the blond his uniform, staring at it as if he could see through the thick wood to the young alchemist behind it. To say he hadn't thought about pushing that door open all the way and forcing his way in would be a lie because the desire to do so had welled up in him so strong, he almost couldn't hold himself back. Yet he did, instead staring like an indecisive fool, wanting what was behind that door so bad, he could nearly taste it. A few times he tried to tell himself that it was okay, that Ed was just taking a shower and warm water wasn't going to be the young blonde's demise. Every time, though, his feet had refused to lift from the carpet, keeping him efficiently rooted in place.

Deciding, after the water had been running for several minutes, that he was acting like some love struck moron, he settled for sitting near the door, back pressed against the wall and molding for the doorway pressing into his right shoulder. So, okay, this wasn't him acting like any less of a moron but he just couldn't seem to bring himself to walk very far away from the blond teenager.

It was as he was sitting there, legs crossed in front of him and dark head tilted back against the wall, staving off sudden fatigue that he heard a soft, half-formed groan coming from behind the closed door. He froze, worried, thinking Ed might have had more injuries that the older man didn't know about but it came again, a little louder this time and accompanied by a sharp breath that sounded as if it had been cut off in the middle. He blinked.

Oh.

Heat flooded through him. That's what Ed was doing. Roy bit his lip, wanting to be amused but all it succeeded in doing was making him unbearably hot. It coursed through him like a tsunami, turning his veins to liquid desire and then he was listening for them, each and every noise that escaped past those sweet, full lips. God, he wished he could see it; golden skin glistening with warm water from the shower as the slender back pressed into the slick tiles. The bright golden eyes would be shut in pleasure, long, long hair darkened from the water and plastered against the tan shoulders, back, arms. Ed wouldn't use his automail for fear of catching precious skin in the unforgiving joints so that would be the one pressed against his mouth to unsuccessfully catch any noises he might make.

Oh, shit, another moan filtered through the door and now Roy had his palm pressed into the aching bulge in his lap, grinding against his erection trapped in his pants. He tossed his head back, thinking of the flush that would have taken over the golden skin, the way the bright, golden eyebrows would have drawn down in bliss and his heart raced, thudding loudly in his ears so that he almost missed the tiny gasping cry that escaped the bathroom next.

The fire of his release over took him quickly, spurred on by the sounds coming from behind the closed door and he moved his hips unconsciously, wanting, needing more friction. The coil tightening ruthlessly in the pit of his stomach snapped unexpectedly when the smoke-roughened voice startled him with a loud cry.

"Ah, ROY!" and he bit his lip as not to make any noise as he came in his pants, soaking the material under his hand. There was a moment of incoherence where he marveled at the violence of his release, stars slowly disappearing from behind his eyelids. It wasn't until he heard the shower squeak as it was shut off that he was fleeing to his room so that by the time Ed found him again, he'd be somewhat presentable. Yet as he undressed himself hurriedly, fingers shaking and pants uncomfortably damp, he kept hearing his own name being shouted in that raspy tenor. Sure it was sexy but it was more than that too. He hoped that next time he heard it, it would be his own doing that brought the blond to that place so that he would be able to return the favor when he too tumbled over the precipice into a perfect, star riddled abyss.

Al

The front of the war effort against Ishval was nothing like he imagined.

A line of royal blue tents had been erected in a relatively secluded field that looked as if it had belonged to some unfortunate soldier before the soldiers had rolled on through. The actual fighting took place on the other side of the thick line of trees in a town just this side of the boarder that had been taken by the Ishvalites in a rather brutal assault that had left Artemis' army scrambling. It wasn't the only front he could have chosen but it was the one hit the hardest so this was where he would start. The ground shook with the force of exploding mortar shells and gunfire rapped in the distance but he stepped forward, raging determination pushing his shoulders back so that he would not shy away.

He had gotten up before the sun that morning, gotten dressed as quietly as he could and snuck out of the house using his window, knowing Den would make a fuss if he tried to sneak out in the middle of the night. There was a note on his pillow for Winry and Granny to find that apologized for his abrupt departure and lack of a goodbye, thanking them for their hospitality. Al knew it wasn't nearly enough and they would be enraged with a note that offered nothing in the way of an explanation but he didn't want them to worry for him. He wasn't planning on actually joining in the fighting but even so. There had also been a moment where he had paused, staring at his cell phone as he contemplated calling his brother but he decided against it, knowing how Ed would react. It would most certainly be a spectacular display. Besides, he didn't want to derail the thing he had going with the dark haired Colonel and announcing to his brother would most certainly do just that, as the older Elric would be on the next train to kick some sense into Al's ass. Al had just smiled a little wistfully at his phone before he had tucked it away, suddenly missing his brother fiercely.

Now he swallowed thick nerves and stepped into the camp, trying to look like he knew what the hell he was doing. No one stopped him or really gave him a second look, though there weren't that many soldiers hanging around camp at that time of day. He took in everything, every detail that he could as he walked, though he didn't find what he was looking for until he was almost upon the tree line. The flimsy canvas structure wasn't very equipped as far as technology went, though he wasn't really an expert on that kind of thing, housing only some radio equipment and what looked to be a small, simple machine for Morse code. A blond haired man had on a set of head phones and was relaying something to a dark haired, stern looking woman. They both glanced up as he entered the tent.

"Who are you?" demanded the woman and Al swallowed the repeating feeling of not belonging there. Really, what did he know, after all? A little bit of alchemy and some tai jutsu? In the overall scheme of things, it was pretty insignificant. But he had come too far just to chicken out now. So he offered as charming of a smile as he could.

"I'm looking for the officer in charge here?" dark eyes narrowed in suspicion and the blond watched the exchange with curiosity in his pale blue eyes, for now ignoring what was being babbled in his ear.

"That didn't answer my question, kid," she snapped and Al could have kicked himself. He was making a really bad impression.

"I'm Alphonse Elric," here he paused, watching thin, dark eyebrows draw down in the beginning of a temper, "I'm an alchemist," just like that the stormy clouds that had been shadowing the soldier's eyes rushed away as a light of hope sprang into her eyes. Al realized then how tired they both looked, as if they had been there for too long fighting a hopeless battle and hadn't heard good news in a very long time. The blond man picked up on it first, however, dashing forward with gleaming eyes to shake Al's hand.

"You're an alchemist!? Oh my gosh, you're the first good news we've had in a while-" The younger blond laughed, startled at the unexpected reception, though it faded when the woman barked rather alarmingly at the man, effectively cutting him off.

"Sergeant! Leave the boy alone," the Sergeant backed off but he was still grinning, giving Al the thumbs up and when dark eyes turned to the teen, they had softened, hard edge gone with a spark of hope."Well, Alphonse. What kind of alchemy can you do?" he was opening his mouth to respond when a huge man with dark skin and metal gauntlets adorning his fists walked in. Both soldiers he had been talking to snapped to attention, strain written on their faces once more. Al stepped to the side, slightly awed by this massive new comer who took up just about the entire space and exuded authority.

"Lt. Do you have any new orders from Central?" his voice boomed through the tent and the teen suddenly felt very small and insignificant. The dark haired woman he had addressed shook her head, the corner of her eyes tight.

"No, sir, nothing," the big officer growled in annoyance as he rifled through papers sitting beside the large radio.

"Those damn bastards at headquarters. What the hell are they waiting for?" his voice was tight, as if this was a continuing problem. Then the dark eyes swung to Al standing in the corner, thick eyebrows deepening into a scowl, "And who is this?" The teen stepped forward to answer but the Lt. was quicker.

"Alphonse Elric, sir. Says he's an alchemist," just like that the intimidating man's full attention was arrested, settling on the tall teenager with the full weight of his gaze. Al just nodded, fighting the urge to swallow against his nerves that were once again trying to shoot out through his skin.

"Alchemist, huh?" and the blond teen could only nod in response, feeling the weight of the dark gaze heavy on his chest. The man seemed to consider for a bit, glancing at the papers he held in his hand before turning back to regard the young blond, "And how can you be of use to me?" with that Al perked up, eager to please as it seemed this giant officer was willing to hear him out before he sent him away.

"I can heal, sir," that answer had all three sets of eyes staring at him, as what he said was the most unbelievable thing they had ever heard. As it might have been because as far as Al knew, healing with alchemy was next to unheard of. Yet thanks to his father's books, the ones he and his brother had solicited the aid from to attempt to create a human being, it was not as impossible as it may have sounded. Then, before he knew what was happening, he was being hauled through the camp, a huge, unyielding hand attached to his wrist. It was all he could do to keep his feet as the big, dark skinned officer strode across the wide field, hauling the surprised teenager like so much baggage. He was deposited inside a large tent with a great red star on the front, announcing it was a kind of make shift sick bay. Al stood there, slightly dazed, blinking as his eyes tried to adjust to the shadows of the inside of the tent, the stifling presence of the officer at his back. When his eyes adjusted, the blond found himself swallowing bile.

The scene inside of the tent was a nightmare.

Cots were crammed into the wide space and more blankets were rolled out on the floor, each on holding a man or woman who had some type of injury. Moans and pathetic, desperate mutterings filled the space, accompanied by the soft, soothing voices of orderlies and doctors with just blood spattered aprons on over their uniforms as they wove between the beds. As he watched, one of the patients with his head almost entirely covered with bandages sat up suddenly in his cot, screaming at the top of his lungs and starling Al so bad, he nearly jumped out of his skin. One of the women in a white apron rushed over, calling to one of the doctors as she tried to restrain him.

"As you can see this is no playground," The deep, rumbling voice in his ear did make him jump and he nodded, mouth dry and amber eyes wide as he took in the general misery. Then the hand was back, this time nearly buckling his knees as it clasped his shoulder and he was steered over to a cot in the corner on which lay a brown haired man who lay as still as death, a bloody bandage wrapped around his abdomen. "Get to it," commanded the officer at his shoulder and Al squared his shoulders. This is what he had come to do after all.

For a moment he thought the man on the bed had already succumbed to his wound for he was paler than milk and all the lines had been smoothed out from his face as if he had been unconscious to pain for a long time. But his chest still moved up and down shallowly so he gently removed the bandages.

Al had to physically force himself not to throw up when the extent of the damage was uncovered. A ragged hole had been nearly blasted all the way through the unfortunate soldier's side and he marveled that the man was even still breathing. Blood oozed from around the edges, slow and sluggish, as if there was barely enough left keeping him alive. He could see the coiled encasing of the small intestines and a piece of broken rib stood out stark and white against the dark gore. How naïve he had been to think that the kind of wounds he would be treating would be straight forward and clean. Actually, he hadn't known what to expect, really. Then he realized that as he watched this man was dying and he pushed all thoughts of being disgusted away. He rummaged through his memory for the right circles and using a piece of charcoal he had brought with him and started drawing.

It was really simply a matter of taking the damaged flesh and knitting it back together again. Of course, it was a little more involved as it required he work at a molecular level but he was confident that he could do so. He started with the torn muscle, taking from other, less important parts of the body to make up for what he didn't have. It wouldn't be enough to make a difference but he needed to close the gaping hole. At the same time, he needed to make a circle for the veins and capillaries so they could be reconstructed, stopping the bleeding as he did. Thankfully none of the organs had been damaged but there was quite a bit of infection. That had two circles, cleansing and sanitation. Finally, the last circle he did was for the man's broken bones, of which he seemed to have quite a few, as if he had been bawled over by something heavy that was moving fast.

By the time Al looked up, he had the attention of the entire tent except for the soldiers that had been wounded the worst and he flushed, embarrassed at the attention. He turned to the nearest doctor, who was staring at him like he was looking at their savior.

"Um, I can't replace blood and he lost a lot so he's going to need time to recover but he should live," his own high, sweet tenor seemed out of place amid the gore and stark reality of the atmosphere in the tent and the man just nodded dumbly, waving one of the nurses over to check on the man. Al stepped back, feeling a little tired as he had never actually done something like that before and certainly not to that extent, pleased to note the man's color was already much better.

"Impressive, young Elric," the blond turned and was stuck in the impressive gaze of the tall, dark officer still standing behind him. The face had never changed, still remaining hard and imposing, scar over the bridge of the man's nose stark against his skin. He led Al back outside of the tent where he found the dark haired soldier he had first spoken to standing outside, waiting for them, "Lt. Ross. Find this boy a uniform and the scarf of a medic. Do you know how to fight, Elric?" the last bit was addressed to the teen, who nodded.

"Yes, sir, I can fight," he responded, still feeling a little self conscious. The dark head nodded, satisfied and already the imposing gaze was looking to other things.

"Fine, then. I have need of a medic in the field. Do you think you can handle that?" to which the blond gulped, once again terrified. He had not expected to be put in the field but if that was where he could help the most, then the field was where he would go. He nodded, trying not to show his hesitation.

"Yes, sir," and then he was being offered a huge, calloused hand encased in leather and metal.

"Then welcome aboard, Major Elric. I am the acting commander here, Colonel Basque Grand, the Iron Blood Alchemist. You'll be taking your orders from me from now on," and then he was gone, striding away, leaving Al in the company of the smiling Lt. Ross.

"Well, Major, I don't know what you did but I haven't seen the Colonel looking that pleased in a long time," if that was pleased, he was afraid to know what the man was like when he was mad, "I'm Lt. Maria Ross. Come on, let's go get you your uniform," and when Al nodded, he wished he didn't feel like he had just signed his life away.

Ed

Ed actually got a standing ovation when he walked into the office behind Roy that morning. It seemed everyone had heard from Fury what had happened and because they had not told anyone the outcome, they had all gathered and had been waiting with bated breaths. Havoc had near tackled the Major to the ground nearly as soon as the blond walked in the door, only to get barked at by the Colonel. His back had been clapped by eager hands, everyone keeping their joviality hushed so no one passing by would think anything was amiss. By then he could barely say two words without his voice giving out so he just took the attention with a tick growing under his eye and when Havoc decided to have a go at his size, he let the man know it wasn't appreciated with the use of his automail.

After that everything had settled down and fatigue caught up with him as he sat down to fill out some paperwork that had appeared on his desk. Everything distracted him, though; his burning eyes, the ache in his throat, soft voices floating from the Colonel's office where Riza had followed the dark haired man just a few moments ago. Especially Roy's voice because it made him think of earlier that morning and then he knew getting any work done was hopeless. He had walked out of the shower that morning, dressed and braiding his hair when the older man had come out of his room, looking crisp and pristine in his uniform. He had taken one look at the blond and the next thing Ed had known his back was being pressed up against the wall and his mouth was being efficiently plundered.

The Major blushed now as he thought about it, trying to look busy, pen scraping against the rough face of the paperwork. The kiss had been so hard, so brutal he had been sure his lips would bruise but as soon as he had gotten over his surprise, he had tumbled into the almost painful contact with relish. It had been scorching, the older man's tongue sweeping into his mouth over and over again, demanding and leaving him dizzy. When Roy had finally pulled back, Ed had leaned forward, hands trapped against the wall on either side of his head and drew the dark haired man back in for another, then another until that feeling of being unable to catch his breath left him gasping. The dark eyes had been full of regret with the Colonel pulled back.

"We're going to be late," and the blond had only been able to nod, hating the fact that they couldn't stay like that all day. Now Ed had to keep his eyes glued to the pages in front of him so his eyes wouldn't stray to the open doorway of Roy's office and give himself away. He would need a distraction soon of another kind or he was going to have a problem similar to the one he had in the shower.

"GOOD MORNING, YOUNG ELRIC!!" the deep, booming voice bellowed in his hear nearly had him shooting straight up into the ceiling. Well, he'd wanted a distraction but he had preferred it didn't come with a heart attack. Major Armstrong was standing behind Ed's chair, beaming at the younger man, blue eyes crinkled at the corners. He forced a smile, prying the man didn't find some excuse to administer one of his bone, crushing hugs and nodded. The big man leaned down, as if he had a secret to share.

"I heard about your little escaping act last night. Well done," Ed jerked, alarmed, wondered who else knew about it when a big hand clapped him comfortingly on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I am the only one outside of this office who knows. Your secret is safe," the blond thought he might have said more but they were interrupted by a silken voice from the doorway.

"Major Armstrong. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit," Roy was smiling easily, charm oozing from his pores and the big officer straightened, glittering as he smiled back.

"Oh, nothing of importance, Colonel. I was just stopping by to bid you all farewell as I'm being deployed," the entire office froze, shocked, a punch of disappointment hitting Ed in the gut. Despite the man's overbearing presence, the blond actually really liked him. He seemed to be one of the few good men he had run across in the military. Judging by the looks on everyone else's faces, most seemed to feel the same.

"To the Ishval front?" Roy asked, his face dark as if full of shadowed memories best left buried under the layers of time. Armstrong shook his head though.

"Haven't you heard? Lirr has declared civil war. I'm being shipped off to fight," Ed's heart stopped. A second war? That's when he knew he needed to find out what that book said and hoped desperately it had some kind of answer to explain this mess they had found themselves in. They were all standing there in shock, each one digesting what they had heard with their own unique expressions on their faces when Lt. Colonel Hughes marched into the office, face pale and set before thrusting a newspaper into Roy's unsuspecting grip.

"Your contact from the hospital, Tim Marco? He was found in his office this morning in a puddle of his own blood. Dead," Marco, from the hospital, the same Marco he and Roy had gone to see the day before, the same Marco that had told him about a book that had almost gotten him killed. Ed swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. It seemed they were being stalled, thwarted because they were digging too close to something and someone was getting serious about keeping it hidden.