August 9th, 1964

"It's the best piece of battlefield we've seen yet," Breda commented to Edward as they looked out beyond the lines, down the slope to the mountain hills beyond. There were mountains about a mile to either side, which would prevent flanking. It also meant they had no choice but to confront the Drachmans here. The good news was, this was a good place for it. The road and the train tracks straddled the space, and if they claimed this area, they would be in perfect striking distance to reclaim the last good sized town south of Briggs; Buzcoul.

Ed nodded, surveying the scene. "What I'm worried about is them." He held up a pair of binoculars and gestured towards a spot in the center of the front of the Drachman line. He knew Breda would be able to see who he was referring to; the knot of Drachman alchemists in the middle; lots of Drachman Alchemists.

Not that the plan didn't account for that. Intelligence said that the Drachmans had put a lot of their Alchemists in one transmutation circle, so to speak. Rumors even said that Tamirov was there. Ed hadn't spotted him yet, but he believed it. The number of chimera cages behind them spoke volumes. Yes, the Drachmans meant business.

"That's why the objective here is to take out as many of the DAs as possible," Breda replied with a succinct nod. "Kane assures me everyone has their orders."

Ed nodded. "We do." There had been plenty of meetings with all of the Amestrian alchemists, now all gathered and condensed once more, and supplemented with Xingese alchemists where possible. It was still depressing to realize there were only seventy-six Amestrian alchemists left. "We've got a last meeting tonight." The fighting would begin tomorrow. The Drachmans were desperate and they didn't dare let the Amestrians take the time to get really comfortable with their spot and their surroundings before attacking. It had been a long, bloody fight pushing the Drachmans back this far over the past couple of months. Several towns had been liberated along the way. Perhaps more importantly, the Drachmans had not made new attempts on any front other than this one. They seemed to have learned that lesson.

Though getting into a firefight here would be like getting into a firefight in a barrel. The losses would be greater than either side wanted to risk. That, of course, was another reason Ed knew that the alchemists would fight tomorrow first; possibly without major backup of firearms.

"I don't think most of us are planning to get any sleep," Breda grunted, his expression serious.

Ed nodded. "Everything feels grim tonight. Like this is it, even though it probably isn't."

"I'm not the only one who feels it, good," Breda replied with a sideways glance. "I thought I might be going crazy."

"No. It's like there's a storm coming, even though there's not." Ed glanced up at the sky. There were clouds tonight, but they were scattered. Stars were starting to come out as the last light was fading. Behind the wall their alchemists had set up – behind him and Breda – hundreds of campfires accommodated thousands of soldiers. "It's a first for the world, unless it's been lost to history; a battle between warring groups of alchemists on a massive scale." He sighed. "I wish I wasn't here to see it."

"Funny sentiment from a man who has specialized and created more alchemical combat techniques than anyone else in the country," Breda commented wryly.

"And challenged the Flame Alchemist to combat?" More than once. Ed chuckled, hands resting lightly on his hips. "Yeah, I know. I've spent my whole life running into fights. I just hate to see it come to this now, when we've come so far; when our State Alchemists are no longer the vilified monsters some of us used to be. We've built so much, and tomorrow a lot of really good people are going to die." No matter how well they fought, more people he cared about, however casually, were going to lose their lives.

"Certainly not the proving ground most people would choose," Breda agreed. "So what are your plans tonight?"

"Not the riotous partying I'm sure the younger guys would prefer," Ed admitted with a laugh. "We've got to try and get some sleep after all. But the family's gathering. Those of us left fighting are all up here now, and who knows what'll happen tomorrow."

Breda looked depressed for a moment. It didn't take much to guess why. None of his family was here. As much as that was a good thing, it had to be rough.

"You know," Ed said, "You're always welcome to join us."

Breda turned his head and chuckled. "I just might if they'll let me have the freedom. I expect there's a line of folks standing outside my tent waiting for me so they can bother me with not-so-petty details."

"Which is why you're standing on this wall looking busy."

"Exactly."

Ed left Breda on that wall a few minutes later and wandered his way through the camp. The alchemists' enclave – for want of a better name – wasn't too far away, but he wasn't quite ready to join everyone else. Not that he had anonymity anymore, even wandering around in the dark. Still, while he was noticed, he was usually left alone. I guess being a legend is good for something. Even if that something might be his legendary temper as much as anything else.

Ed didn't expect to run into anyone else along the wall that he knew well. The alchemists were all gathered in their camp, preparing for the morning, or probably in the mess. So he was a little surprised when he spotted a familiar silhouette – barely outlined by a nearby campfire – smoking in the blue shadows of the wall. "Tore, what are you doing out here?"

His former student stiffened, then looked his direction. Tore seemed to hesitate a moment before exhaling. "Hey, Fullmetal," he replied. Somehow, Ed suspected Tore was still waiting for him to lose it over his acquired bad habit. He had never said a word. "Just thinking."

"You're missing the party," Ed pointed out.

Tore nodded and shrugged, not amused. "Yeah, I'll get there."

"Something wrong?" Ed wasn't quite convinced yet that Tore wasn't interested in talking.

"Does it look like there's something wrong?" Tore's usual flippancy seemed forced. The look in his eyes was more sincere.

Ed shrugged and leaned against the wall next to him, his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it does."

Tore took another drag, staring off into the distance for a while before he sighed. "I don't really know what it is," he admitted finally. "I just have a bad feeling about tomorrow."

"Why's that?" Sometimes, it just took the right subtle nudges to get guys to talk.

"We've never had a battle like this one," Tore's concern echoed Ed's earlier thought. "And I've barely been a State Alchemist a year. I know most of that's been out here but… this won't be the same."

"None of us has fought in a battle like this one," Ed pointed out patiently.

"That's what worries me," Tore blurted out before he seemed to catch himself, and stuck his cigarette back in his mouth.

Ed tried to avoid a frustrated snap. "Your inexperience is no worse than a lot of others here," he pointed out instead. "In fact, you're still a step or ten up on the ones who joined up when this mess started. You were when you took the Exam. I'll bet," he added after a moment's consideration, "that this has something to do with a girl." Even in a war zone, it often did. Sometimes especially it did when death was staring a man in the face… at any age.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Tore looked back across the empty space towards the first camp.

"With you… it seemed like a safe guess," Ed admitted. "Someone new?"

"No," Tore shook his head. "And yes… I mean, you're not entirely wrong."

"How good of you to admit it."

Tore glared at him, then seemed to realize how foolish that was. "It's two girls."

Ed smiled, but said nothing. Another old story with his foster son. "Which ones?"

"The first one you don't know," Tore replied. "Her name's Noelle. She lives in Buzcoul, and her uncle's the one who patched me up."

Ahh. "So you're worried about her."

Tore nodded. "Who knows what the Drachmans will do if they get desperate. I just hope she's okay."

"I understand." Empathy for the people in danger, the innocents, the civilians… he felt it a lot. He still remembered his anger at finding out what the government had done to Liore. "And Charisa?"

The look of objection faded from Tore's face well before the words even tried to leave his lips. He just twitched irritably and kept smoking. "I haven't heard from her in a while."

"She's probably just busy," Ed pointed out. "College is like that, and it's not like post has been reliable lately. I'd imagine it takes a while to get anything here from Pylos."

"Yeah, I know." Tore did not look reassured. "Look, don't wait for me. I'll be back eventually."

It was a brush-off, or as much of one as Tore seemed interested in bothering with. Ed didn't push the point. "See you." Ed went ahead and moved on.

The view when he walked into camp gave Ed a better clue as to why Tore didn't want to hang out with them tonight. Winry was waiting for him, smiling. Sara and Franz were cuddled up together, and Cal and Alyse looked almost as cozy. The big difference was Alyse sat beside her boyfriend, not in his lap. Probably, Ed gathered, from the fact that Al was sitting across the fire from them, trying not to stare too much in their direction. Will and Ethan were chatting with Mei. Roy and Riza had joined the fun and were about as cozy as could be. A little ways off Maes, Finn, Polansky, and some of the others were talking.

Still, the couples kind of said it all. Tore's closest companion for the past year was enthralled with Alyse, completely wrapped up in an evening with the girl he loved. It certainly looked, from the expression on his face as he and Alyse laughed and roasted the marshmallows someone had dug up for the occasion, that Cal was well on his way to throwing away bachelorhood in the next few years. Tore was the only member left of the close crew without a significant other; even if they were absent.

Ed joined Winry, dropping down beside her and kissing her cheek. "I invited Breda," he said by way of quiet greeting. "He looked lonely."

"Good idea," Winry smiled as she offered him the bag of marshmallows. "You should have told him we had treats."

Ed chuckled. "I don't think it was necessary. I also saw Tore."

Winry nodded, her smile fading for just a moment. "He came by earlier. He didn't look interested in staying tonight."

"He said he'd be back later," Ed said, hoping it would reassure Winry without him having to go into anything else Tore had said.

"Good." Her smile returned and she handed him a stick. "Now help us eat these while they're fresh!"

The campfires were getting low by the time Tore gave up and headed back to camp. It was late enough that he hoped most people would be in bed. He couldn't stay out all night.

He was close to right. When he got back to camp the only evidence of the 'party' was the mostly empty marshmallow bag, a few sticks, and a trash bag that probably held a few empty soda and beer bottles. Given the crowd in question probably mostly soda.

Not everyone was asleep, though none of the couples were snuggled up as cute as they had been earlier. Fullmetal and Mrs. Elric had gone, so had Sara and Franz. The only folks left around the fire were Cal, Will, and Finn, sitting on the logs that had been dragged up for seating. It looked like they were passing a bottle between them.

Tore gave up and sauntered over. "I figured you'd all be passed out by now," he commented casually, dropping down next to Cal.

"Hardly," Finn chuckled, passing the bottle his direction. "Who could sleep before a day like tomorrow?"

"A lot of folks," Tore pointed out as he took it and took a small swig. He was glad it was a small one, because it was good strong whisky. He didn't need to get drunk tonight.

Will seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Tore noticed him taking short, small sips when it came his way. "See anything interesting out there?" he asked.

Tore shook his head. "Wall, rocks, camp fires on the other side." Those were small and well in the distance. "Nothing worth reporting."

"I hate the waiting," Finn commented, staring into the fire after a long swig from his bottle. "I'd rather get into the thick of it and get things done with than sit around waiting."

"Waiting ends tomorrow," Cal pointed out, tossing the very last remains of a cigarette – too small to do anyone any good no matter how desperate – into the fire. "Tomorrow we'll give those bastards a real taste of Amestrian justice."

"Feeling patriotic?" Tore asked with a sardonic chuckle.

"Maybe a bit," Cal smiled as he snagged Finn's bottle for another sip. It wasn't as much as he would normally take down; Tore thought. Earlier, when he had seen Cal with Alyse, they had both been drinking soda. Come to think of it, Cal didn't drink much with Alyse around. Not that that was a bad thing, just something Tore stored away as information that might never be anything more than passing observation.

"It feels like we're drawing towards a climax," Will admitted. "Even though we're probably weeks or months from Briggs even if we have a decisive victory tomorrow." He didn't look anxious, Tore noted. Well, not particularly. Just a little depressed. Tore wondered if seeing his mother-in-law had made Will more homesick than usual for his wife. Tore had met Mei Xian only once before, at Will and Ren's wedding when he was a kid.

"Maybe it means we're all doomed," Finn chuckled, though it sounded a bit too flat to be a joke.

"Don't say that," Cal elbowed Finn in the side with surprising vehemence. "We're not doomed. I bet every one of us here," he gestured at the four of them, "makes it off the battlefield alive tomorrow."

"What are we betting?" Finn asked as if he was taking the wager seriously.

"How about a week's pay?" Cal offered without a blink of hesitation.

Finn shrugged, then nodded and drank again. "Deal. Though collecting might get interesting if one or the other of us dies."

"All the better then," Cal pointed out with a smirk. "That means we've both got to survive then, doesn't it." He stood up, stretched, and turned towards the tent. "I'm turning in. Morning's going to be here way too soon."

Tore watched him go, then looked at Finn and Will. "He's got a point."

Will nodded and stood. "I might be able to sleep now, if my thoughts will just leave me be for a few minutes." He vanished as well.

Finn didn't seem to notice. Tore stood to leave, stepped away a few paces, then went back. "Hey," he tugged lightly on the bottle in Finn's hand. "Come on. It's bedtime."

Finn shook himself, then stood and nodded. "Ah, I suppose." Then he wobbled a bit too-steadily into the dark.

Tore actually watched until Finn ducked into his tent before heading to his own. When he got there, Cal had already crashed out on his cot on his back and was snoring hard. Well that didn't take long. As he lay down himself, kicking off his boots and tucking into his sack, it struck Tore as a little funny that after a year on campaign, he found the sound of Cal's snoring oddly comforting.

April 10th, 1964

Alphonse wasn't really sure if he slept or not. He assumed that there was sleep, because he found himself in Tamirov's old workshop, hunting frantically for Elicia. He knew where they had found her last time, but when he went down the stairs, he found himself in a Drachman palace instead, that turned quickly into the Drachman military headquarters they had visited. Tamirov was there, with Elicia – chained and nearly naked save for a diaphanous gown of silvery blue that was so thin it hid absolutely nothing. Elicia was crying, begging for her freedom. Tamirov was laughing.

Then they were suddenly fighting each other, alchemist on alchemist, but Tamirov was better than Al remembered; faster. Though how Al could remember that when it had been Ed and Tore who fought the man directly, he could not have said. They were fighting, and then Al had won, but Elicia was dead! Her corpse staring accusingly up at him; suddenly once more without hair, battered, bruised, and cold. Only so much more cold than he could ever remember.

"Elicia!"

Al came to himself sitting bolt-upright in his bed, panting and sweating heavily despite the cool night air. His heart was pounding and his face was strangely wet. A hand found tears. He had been crying. How long?

It was still dark out, and the lack of sounds in camp put it, Al guessed, at three or four o'clock in the morning. Fumbling in the dark, his hand found the cup of water he had left next to his cot, and Al drained it before reaching down into his pack for what remained of Elicia's last care package. There wasn't much left, but the familiar taste of one of her chocolate chip cookies was a soothing reminder. It brought him out of the dream and back to reality.

He didn't need to relieve himself, so Al rolled over and snuggled back into his bedding. Chocolate lingered longer than the dream, and while he stared into the blackness, vaguely toward his tent wall, sleep eventually reclaimed him. When he found him…Tamirov was a dead man.

Ethan's stomach was in such knots, that he awoke well before dawn; well before even the soldiers needed to be awake that morning. This was it; the first day in which he stood a very good chance of having to prove himself on the battlefield. There was no way in a fight like the one probably coming that they wouldn't need medics on the field, bringing off the wounded and protecting them. The State Alchemists would be doing everything they could to keep fighting. Bringing their fallen comrades back for care was not going to be an immediate option.

He gave up on sleep, dressed, and made his way to the Mess to find a cup of coffee and something for breakfast, though he was nervous enough that, for once, he had little appetite. As he sat there, picking his way through scrambled eggs with bits of ham and onions, he pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen.

Lia, my darling,

It's early morning. Today I go into combat for the first time. All the fights I've been in before seem like nothing given what I'm about to face, not even illness. This is an enemy who wants me to die. I'm scared. While I know you won't get this until well after it's over, it always makes me feel better to think about you reading my words later, and what your reply would be. I swear I'll be brave. I'll do my best to be careful. All I know is that right now I love you more than anything I have ever known. Please, lend me your strength. Today, I need it.

Love for all time,
Ethan

He felt better for writing it. With his thoughts out, Ethan quickly finished his breakfast, and a second cup of coffee. Then he went to the little tent that served as the post and mailed the letter. He could see Lia in his mind, waking in a few hours, possibly unaware of what today would bring, though if she followed the news on the radio she would know quickly that there was combat today, though likely not of his direct involvement. Every detail traced in his mind as he walked back towards the infirmary tent to get ready for battle. Dawn was nearing, and soon he would be embroiled in battle.

For now, his mind was filled with silky hair and sparkling eyes, and the joyous laughter that he missed so desperately; or her tendency to giggle if he accidentally tickled her – or made a face she found funny - when they made love. That thought made him choke up for a moment and he paused to compose himself as the distance between them seemed to take on a whole new gulf.

Then he stepped inside the infirmary tent to collect his gear and get ready for work.

If there had been any option, Edward would have preferred to stay in bed that morning, but he knew it wasn't going to happen. After so much time at war, he awoke a good half an hour before he needed to, feeling surprisingly rested and alert, and simply lay there, holding Winry close for as long as he could. She awoke not long after, and they embraced together in the early morning stillness until there was no time left.

"Are you getting breakfast?" Winry asked as they dressed quickly.

Ed pulled his hair back and tugged on his jacket. "Something quick and light," he replied. "I don't like to go into combat on a full stomach."

"Since when?"

He started to retort when he turned and saw her smile. She was goading him. He chuckled. "Since I stopped getting taller."

"That happened?" Winry stood and kissed him. "I hadn't noticed."

Breakfast went by all too quickly, and they parted, Winry for the infirmary – she would not be expected on the battlefield, to Ed's relief! – And Ed to collect his unit and prepare for the full frontal assault. There was something invigorating about it though, and an excitement took hold of him. It had been a while since he'd been in a good straight-up face to face, alchemy to alchemy fight. On a field like this one, he was sure to get into a few.

I guess even old war dogs can get excited. He felt a little like a kid again – if kid meant twenties or thirties. He didn't really feel twelve. Thank goodness.

Fletcher was ready, looking a little worn and ragged, but in his usual calm good spirits. Ed knew he had spent most of the evening before with his daughter, brother, and nephews in much the same fashion as Ed and his family had enjoyed what time together they could. It seemed to have helped his confidence.

Carstone, the new alchemist Ed had inherited from a previously decimated unit, looked a bit uneasy but ready as well. He was a slim guy, mid-thirties, with dark hair and fair skin. He looked nervous most of the time, but Ed had figured out that was mostly the set of his eyebrows.

Finn looked like shit. But then, he usually did. Ed had hoped reuniting with more of the old corps of State Alchemists would improve Finn's spirits. Polasky, his other partner in mischief, was alive and well after all. Still, Finn did not look as if he had slept well. Ed didn't need to go near him to know he'd been drinking heavily last night, or to know he probably still smelled of stale whiskey.

As the time drew near to join the others on the wall, Ed made a difficult decision. "Finn, a word," he pulled him aside quietly.

Finn joined him promptly. "What is it, Fullmetal?"

There was just no way to do this delicately. "Are you hung over, Fusion?" He rarely felt the need to address Finn formally. Now, he needed to.

Finn shook his head. "No, I'm not."

A little too emphatically. "Are you still drunk?"

Discomfort crept into Finn's eyes. "Maybe… Sir."

"You know how I feel about men drinking before combat."

"Yes sir, Fullmetal."

"You know why?"

Now he looked really uncomfortable. But then, Finn of all people should remember that. "I do."

Ed nodded. "Then you'll understand why I'm doing this. Stand down, Finn. I want you in camp."

"Camp!" Horror crossed Finn's face. "Not on the walls even, or the infirmary?"

"I'm not trusting anyone's life to the alcohol-fuzzed mind of a drunk alchemist," Ed scowled. "Don't argue with me, or you'll be on a train back to Central instead."

Finn shut up immediately though his expression remained unwaveringly discontent as Ed turned and followed the rest of the alchemists to the front line.

Sorry Sean, maybe one day you'll understand. Ed didn't ask for forgiveness. Keeping men alive was more important.