Author's Note: Sorry I didn't post this sooner, I asked writingleaf to have a look over this chapter before I posted it. First time to try anything, huh? This took me a long time anyway, I had a small amount of writer's block: knew where I was going but wasn't sure how to get there. But, I've got it done, and the next chapter should be up either tomorrow or Wednesday (providing my parents don't make me tidy my room like they did today)^_^

Enjoy!

The morning passed without incident, and Lieutenant Hawkeye found her superior slouched, asleep, in a chair. His chin was resting on his chest, which rose and fell slowly, steadily. It looked like this was the first time he'd had a chance for decent rest, and Hawkeye decided that she wouldn't disturb him.

She noticed a cup in his hand, which was resting at a precarious angle. Not wanting the cup to fall and break, and thereby wake the colonel, she gently eased it out of his grip. She smiled tenderly as she saw what resided in the cup. She was certain that Colonel Mustang had drunk enough coffee that morning to last him for three days.

Then, Mustang twitched and reluctantly opened his eyes. He closed them as he let out a yawn and stretched. Opening his eyes wearily, Mustang caught sight of his subordinate. He smiled tiredly as she straightened under his gaze.

"Report, Lieutenant," Mustang ordered softly as he put all his effort in not going back to sleep.

"Major Armstrong has had no trouble with Fullmetal since breakfast. He said that Edward was..." Hawkeye trailed off as she checked the report that she had been holding. "Edward has been compliant with answering basic questions that do not require an in depth knowledge of either party," she read off the paper.

Mustang did not reply. He chewed his inner lip as he thought, using the occasional sharp bite to raise his drooping eyelids. Eventually, he nodded for Hawkeye to continue.

"Falman and Fuery told me that he spent the majority of their watch staring up at the ceiling. When Kane asked him about it, he answered that he had 'nothing better to look at'."

"It's also easier to avoid a conversation," Mustang noted.

"And, Miss Rockbell asked if she could bring Edward his lunch and dinner," Hawkeye finished, watching her superior nervously.

Mustang sat up straight, all thoughts of sleep evaporated. He frowned thoughtfully, concernedly. It was obvious by the look on his face; Hawkeye knew exactly what was going on through his head, as it was also running through hers as well.

Ed had responded well to Winry, or so it seemed. This could be a way to break the young alchemist out of his delusion, but if he was only pretending... that could spell disaster.

"Who's with him now?" Mustang asked.

"Alphonse," Hawkeye answered shortly.

He raised his right hand to his chin and looked to the floor. Mustang was well aware of how Winry wanted to believe that Ed was improving, the same went for Al. While he admitted that he wanted it to be true, Mustang was a realist. He could see no reason as to Ed improving in such a short space of time without something drastic behind it. To him, this had all the telltale signs of a trap.

And they were walking blind.

He thought for a moment before looking back to Lieutenant Hawkeye.

"I want you to take his lunch," Mustang ordered. "Who's watching him this evening?"

"You are, sir," Hawkeye replied, raising her eyebrow slightly to show her disapproval of him not bothering to remember.

"Right, tell Miss Rockbell that she can bring his dinner. I don't want Alphonse and her together in the room with Fullmetal," Mustang explained.

"Yes sir," Hawkeye saluted before leaving the colonel.

A minute later, Roy Mustang was once again fast asleep.

Ed's chest rose and fell in the steady, unhurried breaths of someone deep in sleep. Not that it surprised Alphonse. His brother had exhausted himself with all the antics of the past week. It actually pleased Al to see Ed getting some shuteye. It was possible that while he was sleeping, Ed's body was spending the necessary time beating whatever drug it was that had done this.

It was a good thought.

"Al?"

Al looked up to see his brother looking at him with sleep-filled eyes. The odd copper coloured irises were still residing in his brother's eyes, making him look somewhat like a stranger. But regardless, Al still knew the young man was his brother.

"Alphonse, is that you?" Ed called sleepily.

Al slowly walked over to his brother's side, watching Ed's expression constantly. There was the confusion that had almost been engraved on his face, but there was something new; a flicker of what looked like hope now entered Ed's eyes. Al took it to be a good sign.

"Brother?" Al ventured cautiously.

"I... I can't tell if that's really you Al," Ed stated. "Things are so messed up for me right now. Maybe- maybe you're not my brother, but I can't tell anymore."

"It's going to be alright, Brother," Al assured him. "Soon, the doctor will find out what it is that's doing this to you, and everything will be alright. Soon, we can forget this whole thing, this week, the raid, everything."

Ed's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and then narrowed. His eyes darted from side to side as if trying to figure out how to deal with a new piece of information. He finally blinked and looked back at Al, a slight smile on his face.

"Right, Al, you're right. Soon... everything will go back to normal," Ed agreed.

Al couldn't help but feel that there had been a dangerous edge in Ed's tone, but he found he was unable to explain why. It suddenly made him uneasy. He couldn't help but feel that something had just gone horribly wrong, and it scared him that he could figure out what.

A knock at the door broke Al out of his thinking, and he turned to see who had come. He opened the door and found himself standing incredibly close to Lieutenant Hawkeye, who was carrying a tray of what looked like hospital food.

Al stepped back in surprise and allowed Hawkeye to walk past him and towards Edward. He watched her pull the stool forward and she sat down, remaining a safe distance from Ed.

"Do you recognise me, Fullmetal?" she asked.

"Not really," Ed admitted casually. "But I only really know one female officer with blonde hair, so you've gotta be Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"As a person, or as an act?" she demanded unrelentingly.

"Aren't you all saying you're the real people?" Ed asked back. "Besides, only Lieutenant Hawkeye could talk like that and get away with it."

Ed smiled mirthlessly at her. They were both still and silent for a moment, staring at each other. Ed finally gave up and let his eyes fall down to the tray that Hawkeye was holding. He bit his lip involuntarily and flashed a glance back up to Hawkeye.

"Do you want your lunch?" she asked emotionlessly.

"I'd like to eat it on my own, like I did my breakfast," Ed answered, his tone telling her how much he did not want to have someone feed him.

"While I can appreciate what you're asking, Edward, I'm afraid I've been instructed not to," Hawkeye explained, lying through her teeth.

Ed didn't answer, but turned his head away from her. A stony look was on his face.

"You don't trust me," he commented. It was not a question.

"You don't trust me," she replied. "So, we're even."

Ed did not reply, as if he couldn't see the point in talking to Hawkeye. He didn't see her stretch out her hand, only flinching when she touched his hand. He turned back to stare at her.

Hawkeye had a fork in her hand with some form of food on it. She was aiming it towards him.

"I'll make you a deal: eat like this for now, and I'll see about getting you to eat on your own for dinner," she bargained.

Ed looked at the fork, to her, and then back to the fork. He chewed his lip slightly as he thought the idea through. He turned his hand and held onto her sleeve, which caused Hawkeye to recoil slightly before she returned her hand with the fork to its original place. After a moment of sizing each other up, Ed finally conceded and opened his mouth.

With reluctance, the pair carried on; Ed allowing Hawkeye to feed him while he was restrained, and Hawkeye allowing Ed to hold onto her like he was while she fed him.

For Alphonse remaining in the background, the atmosphere in the room was not one he enjoyed being in. It was screaming of a thousand problems that he couldn't see or hear, but he could definitely feel them.

Finally, Hawkeye straightened up. The tray was reasonably empty, and Ed had let go of her sleeve. With nothing else apparently about to happen, Hawkeye stood up, moving the chair back.

"Do I get to eat with my own hand next time?" Ed asked impassively.

"We'll see," Hawkeye replied. "I promise you that I'll recommend it."

Ed didn't answer and took to staring at the ceiling.

Hawkeye took the tray and approached the door. She looked at Al and, with her back to Ed, she frowned, worry evident in her eyes. Obviously she had felt the same awkwardness and unease that Al had felt.

For some reason, that fact did not comfort the younger Elric.

As Hawkeye approached the door, Al intercepted to open it for her. She silently left the room, but turned round in the doorway. She looked at Al with deathly seriousness.

"Keep a close eye on him, Al. Something's wrong," she stated, the terrifying coldness of a soldier in her tone.

"What's going on?" Al asked desperately, unable to keep a slight whimper out of his voice. "What just changed in there?"

"I don't know, Al," she answered honestly, smiling a tiny, warm, comforting smile at him. "I'm going to report this to the colonel."

"O-Okay," Al slouched slightly in defeat.

"I'll be back as soon as I can with answers, Al. I promise," she assured him before stepping back.

Al took that as his cue to close the door and return to watching his brother. He reluctantly shut out Hawkeye's friendly face and turned to face his charge. He didn't speak as Ed stared back at him, a smug, confident look on his face.

Something definitely was not right.

Al looked longingly to door, praying for Hawkeye to return soon. He prayed that this nightmare would soon end.

Hawkeye didn't even bother to deposit the tray anywhere as she hurried from the door to find Mustang. She found her encounter with the young alchemist deeply unsettling, and she wanted to report it as soon as possible.

She rounded a corner and found her superior, along with Winry Rockbell. The pair seemed to be having a heated discussion, and it only took Hawkeye two seconds to guess as to what.

"Colonel, sir!" she called out from a distance, not wanting to know how far into the argument the pair were. An icy glance from Winry, however, indicated that it was far enough.

"What is it Lieutenant?" Mustang asked as she approached. "Did something happen during lunch?"

"Yes sir, I... I think something's gone wrong, sir," Hawkeye explained.

"What do you mean 'gone wrong'?" Winry demanded. "What happened?"

"It was Fullmetal. Something looked wrong even when I approached him," Hawkeye reported. "He seemed... confident and relieved, somehow. It was like he understood something that he hadn't before."

"Like, how he's being affected?" Mustang inquired.

"No, I don't think that was it, sir. But, whatever it is that he's 'figured out', it's sent him in the wrong direction," Hawkeye explained.

All was silent as Hawkeye's report settled in, each interpreting it in their own way. The silence around them was heavy and oppressive. It was Winry that spoke, unable to take the utter quiet.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"We need to think about this," Mustang replied. "Under these new circumstances, Miss Rockbell-"

"Please, will you call me Winry?" she begged, feeling uncomfortable with Mustang's formality. "And don't even think of saying that I'm not going in to see him again."

I don't think it's a good idea, Miss Rock- Winry," Mustang corrected himself. "I think it's for your own safety that you don't serve his dinner tonight. One of us can watch him-"

"No way!" Winry protested, interrupting Mustang for a second time. "I know Ed! I know he knew me at breakfast."

"That may be so, Miss- Winry," Hawkeye explained calmly, catching herself quicker than the colonel had. "But, something's change. He's made some connection that's isolated him from our efforts. He's going further into this delusion that we're not who we say we are."

The tray suddenly felt very heavy to Hawkeye. She turned to the table that was near them, what looked like the remains of the colonel's lunch was on it. She lowered the tray and placed it on the table. She dropped her hands and turned back to Colonel Mustang and Winry.

Ting. Ting-tick.

Hawkeye looked down at the sound of something metallic hitting the porcelain floor tiles. It was a torpedo shaped piece of fourteen carat gold, only a centimetre in length and three millimetres in diameter. Stunned, Hawkeye knelt down and picked it up.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Mustang asked as she stood back up.

"It's..." Hawkeye began, frowning in confusion as she examined the tiny object between her fingers. "It's a part of my cufflink."

Suddenly, Hawkeye's face dropped like a stone and she blanched. She raised her left hand and looked at the sleeve around her wrist. After a second, she looked slowly, in dread, back to the innocent looking piece of gold.

"Lieutenant?" Mustang repeated to his suddenly deaf subordinate. "Riza?"

"Sir?" she responded numbly, the colonel's use of her first name went unnoticed.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked slowly, not liking this horrific change in her.

"My cufflink is gone sir... last I saw it, I was in Edward's room. He..." she trailed off.

Her fiery disposition, which had apparently been blown out a second ago, came back to life and she closed her eyes and groaned. She raised her left hand all the way and covered her face shamefully. She allowed herself a moment to berate herself, and then lowered her hand to confess.

"Fullmetal was holding my sleeve, sir. He must of-"

She stopped abruptly as Mustang darted off, full pelt, down towards Edward's room. Hawkeye was instantly on his heels, and the light tapping behind her indicated that Winry was also following.

"What is it? What's happened?" she called.

"Fullmetal must have taken my cufflink apart. He stole the majority of it and has it with him," Hawkeye explained.

"I don't understand. How is that important? Why are we running?" Winry puffed.

"Just because Edward doesn't need a transmutation circle, it doesn't mean he can't make and use one!" Mustang shouted from in front of them. "He'll use the cufflink to scratch out an array."

Winry suddenly realised how dangerous that was. She knew that Edward had done that before, when she and him had been at the mercy of Barry the Chopper. He'd used a spare bolt that he'd picked up to scratch a transmutation circle into the chain that was wrapped around him, as that madman had removed Ed's arm.

"But... what could he possible scratch a circle onto?"

No one answered her. They turned a corner and Mustang reached the door. He grabbed the handle and wrenched it down. He burst into the room, a hand poised for alchemy if necessary.