He thought it strange. He knew he'd experienced the phenomenon before- quite often in fact- but it never failed to surprise him how elastic time could be. He couldn't make sense of it. A second was a measure of time as was an hour, a day, week, month, year. How was it that seconds could stretch on for so long and hours pass quicker than he could blink? There was no other measurement capable of that. A gram was a gram, a liter was a liter, a meter was a meter, and a cenz was a cenz. Never anything more, never anything less.

He didn't really know and truthfully, he didn't care. He had more pressing thoughts at the moment. He thought he should, at least. Honestly, he was feeling a bit numb, which was odd to say the least. Yes, very odd. He knew what had happened, recalled the last twenty-nine hours and thirteen minutes with perfect clarity. His body was filled to the brim with nervous energy, his pulse exactly twenty-three beats faster than normal, and whenever he unclenched his fists his hands began to shake. All the signs were there and every precaution had been taken- his gloves and chalk given to Riza for safe keeping in exchange for one of her back-up pistols and some of the wax bullets he'd helped Havoc fashion- yet he didn't really feel very...emotional.

He knew it wasn't shock- he'd dealt with that plenty of times in the war, but it had never felt quite like this- and he didn't think that he'd let his anger get the better of him this time. When that happened he was never able to think straight and he knew that he was being perfectly reasonable in this situation. Maybe even too reasonable. He supposed that left one other possibility. He'd really been hoping to conclude his self-evaluation with different results, but there was nothing for it. He had...regressed.

Everything would be fine, as long as his adrenaline kept pumping and the tension stayed in the air. He would be able to function perfectly. Alchemy would be kept firmly in check, logic would rule his every decision, and even the most shocking of revelations wouldn't faze him. He was in the Zone now. He'd thought he'd finally gotten rid of this particular state, had hoped that it had been locked away in the recesses of his mind with most of his other mental souvenirs from Ishval. No such luck, it seemed.

There was nothing else for it. He would keep following their little tracker, find Edward, get him the help he needed, and then drink himself into oblivion- preferably while locked in the bathroom of his home where there wasn't the slightest possibility he'd be found blubbering into his bottle or puking all over his furniture. After that, well...it was best to take things one step at a time.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and put the majority of his focus back on his surroundings. Strange. This area of town seemed extremely familiar. In fact, he was certain that he'd passed that florist's shop just that afternoon on the way to-

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Oh.

Well.

That probably wasn't good.

He took off in an all-out sprint, easily overtaking Hayate and his subordinates.

First, second, right at the third, fourth, jump the sinkhole, fifth, left, right, and stop.

Hayate skidded to a stop next to him, tongue lolling and tail still wagging from the impromptu run, watching him catch his breath and search the alley at the same time. Havoc and Riza weren't far behind, both demanding to know what was going on as soon as they were in sight.

"I saw him."

"What do you mean you saw him? That's impossible."

"Colonel, we've been with you the entire time and we haven't seen anyone."

"No, not now. Earlier." He jogged further down the alley glancing behind trash bins and down other corridors before moving on.

"Two hours ago, I think. I only realized just now, but it had to be him."

"Look, Boss, we all want to find him, but are you really s-"

"It was him. I didn't recognize him at first. He looks like a girl. But it's him."

"What do you mean he looks like a girl?"

"I only saw him from the back. He was in a dress. And his hair was down. One arm, a metal leg, short- I can't believe I didn't see it before."

"Sir, you need to stay calm and start thinking rationally about all this. We need a pl-"

"Hawkeye, I am perfectly calm and I do have a plan- if you would let me finish. Havoc, you start scouting out the side streets, Hawkeye, you take Hayate and see if you can pick up his trail. Shout if you find anything. Go!"

Not more than a minute had passed, and Hawkeye was already yelling out a report.

"Sir, we've picked up his trail! He was definitely here!"

"Which direction was he headed?"

"Straight ahead, sir! It looks like he was staying close to the wall!"

Close to the wall, close to the wall. That was good to know. Ignore everything else and look close to the wall. Pick up the pace now, he couldn't be too far away. There. A lump on the ground coated with snow, glimpses of pale blue, tarnished steel, and ashy yellow.

He kicked into a run and slid home next to the boy, plowing up a row of fresh fallen snow.

"I found him! He's over here!"

Roy slid two ungloved fingers tight against his throat, adding chemical burns to a mental list of injuries. Yes- a pulse- weak, but definitely there. Shifting his hand to cover a blue-tinged mouth, Roy also noted that his breathing was labored and shallow.

Hawkeye coasted to a stop and squatted next to Edward's head, brushing away the snow collected there before jerking to attention at Roy's voice.

"Lieutenant, I need you to get in contact with Alphonse. Tell him to meet us up at the hospital on base. Then I need you to get that truck over here as fast as you possibly can. Havoc and I will handle him for now."

She snapped off an affirmative and launched herself away, Black Hayate following his master with glee. A hand closed around Roy's shoulder, a sense of forward movement and unexpected weight nearly sending him toppling forward. Havoc jerked to a stop, eyes flying over Edward's prone figure, sucking in air through his teeth. Roy wasted no time.

Calling out directions and running through all the first aid tricks they knew, they soon had the boy flat on his back and covered with as much material as the officers could afford to lose- overcoats, uniform jackets, even their over shirts. But now they'd done all they could do. Waiting for Riza was the only thing left.

They took up their stations with reluctance. Havoc knelt with the boy, hand draped across his forehead as if his touch could keep him alive better than frozen, bled-through bandages and clothes that were far too big. Roy paced. Back and forth, wearing a rut into the ground, twisting his body, swinging his arms, snapping his fingers, smacking his cheeks- anything to keep his blood going. He reminded himself that they weren't safe yet, came up with a thousand different scenarios to convince his adrenalin to keep pumping a little longer, to raise the tension even higher. It wouldn't do to break down yet.

Minutes passed by, each soldier becoming increasingly anxious- and colder by the second. Havoc was forced to abandon his position, hands rubbing roughly against skin, breathing into his palms, stomping his feet to get the feeling back, but always hovering around the child's recumbent form.

Not long after his subordinate's unwilling concession to the cold, the roar of a diesel engine and the creak of ice under metal wrapped rubber buoyed their spirits. Riza was back. The truck shuddered to a stop at the end of the alley. Riza flung open her door and threw herself headlong into the snow, closing the distance between them in record time.

When she was still a few steps away, Roy took command of the situation, barking directions while positioning himself behind Edward's head. Havoc was stationed at his feet and Riza slid to a stop at his middle. They all shifted into crouches and slid their hands under the limp body, adjusting their holds slightly whenever they encountered an injury. Roy noted that Edward flinched at their first touch and told himself that it was a good sign, that it meant Edward was at least partially aware of what was happening to him even if only on the most basic of levels.

A swift countdown and they lifted him smoothly from the ground. Edward tensed slightly at the movement, but his muscles relaxed before the action could be completed. They moved towards the truck bed in carefully synchronized steps, keeping his body level and supported at all times. There were a few nerve-wracking moments where the ground was pitted or completely iced over, and by the time they reached their transport they were all sweating from the strain. And here was the tricky part.

Roy shifted his arms around slowly, keeping Edward's head and shoulders as still as possible as he moved to the side. At his word they lifted the boy higher and took another cautious step forward until the entirety of his head was resting against wood planks. Again, Roy changed positions, withdrawing completely as his subordinates slid their holds further up Edward's body. Climbing into the truck, he took great pains to avoid jostling the boy and once again placed himself behind the head. A bit more maneuvering and Riza joined him in the truck bed.

At this point, Havoc released his grip and ran to the cab, ready to let off the parking break and head to the military exclusive hospital on base as soon as Roy gave the all-clear. One more shift of limbs and he deemed them all secure enough to begin their ride. Havoc responded to the signal with enthusiasm, slamming the break back and pressing his foot firmly against the fuel pedal. The truck lurched forward, the passengers in back grimacing and re-evaluating their seats of choice.

Roy shook away brief annoyance and refocused on the task at hand. Seated rather uncomfortably between the beginning of a wooden bench and the metal cab, he ran through all the first aid options available now that Riza was trusting him with his gloves again.

He could start a fire, obviously, but he didn't have enough fuel to keep it going for any length of time. Perhaps a series of small fires would suffice. But no- that would be a waste of energy. Then it occurred to him. He pushed away from his corner and bent over the still form. Palms hovering over heart and groin, fingers spread wide, eyes half-closed in concentration, he gathered some of his dwindling energy reserve and let it flow through the center of his gloved hands, a faint, pulsing glow the color of the sunset seeping through cloth as he sent wave after wave of heat into the damp mound of cloth, metal, and flesh.

Riza lay next to the boy, one arm wrapped around the top of his shoulders, the other curled awkwardly around his head so she could cup his cheek in her hand. She watched Roy solemnly, not interfering with his work until she noticed the signs of discomfort creasing her charge's bruised face beneath her touch. At her cutting gesture, Roy ended the alchemic process and ignored the twinge in his lower back and growing exhaustion to bend yet closer to the increasingly responsive teen. He watched as she gently patted the crinkled face, calling his name in a soothing voice. Eyelids twitched and drifted to half-mast, revealing a pair of hazy golden eyes.

"Edward? Can you hear me?"

His mouth sagged as he drew in a raspy breath, eyes roaming lazily under puckered brows. His gaze passed over Roy's face and he hesitated, face scrunching up as he tried to make sense of the situation. After a few seconds of staring at his superior, his expression relaxed, as if he'd just realized who was hanging over him.

"Bas'ard..."

The word was breathy, nearly impossible to hear over the rumble of wind and vehicle. Roy grinned, voice carrying an undercurrent of suppressed laughter.

"Hey there, shorty."

A blush trickled into the teen's cheeks, corner of his mouth pulling into a grimace, eyes drifting shut again.

"Norra shrimp, you bas'ard."

Riza patted his face again, prompting his eyes to flutter open once more.

"Edward. You need to stay awake. Can you do that for me?"

"'M tired."

"I know Edward, but you have to stay awake. Why don't you tell me how you're feeling?"

"'S hot. Hur's."

"Can you tell me where?"

"'V'rywhere. 'S hot."

He appeared to squirm beneath the pile of clothes, as if he was trying to escape into the freezing air. Riza tightened her hold and spoke to him a trifle louder, attempting to recapture his attention.

"You need to stay still for now, Edward. It's too dangerous for you to be moving around yet. I know you're hot, but just stay put and we'll have you feeling better in no time."

"Don' wanna."

Roy placed a firm hand on top of the wiggling mound where he assumed the boy's thigh to be and stretched with his other hand to thump the boy gently on his forehead.

"Behave, Fullmetal. You don't want to worry Alphonse, do you?"

Edward calmed and settled for letting his eyes drag from left to right and back again. Roy noticed that his breathing was growing rougher and that his eyebrows were drawing together again.

"Fullmetal, what's the matter this time?"

It took a bit longer for the golden gaze to find him. There was a spark of what he thought might be surprise in the young teen's eye, and his speech was slurring together so badly that Roy could hardly understand him.

"'Er's Al? He's a'right?"

"Alphonse is fine. We're going to meet him right now at the hospital."

Edward looked a bit panicked at that statement.

"Why? 'Zee sick?"

The two adults exchanged uneasy glances, Riza deciding to take charge of the conversation once more.

"He's fine. You just got into a fight and need some patching up before we can let you go back home with your brother."

Edward gave a little oh of understanding and settled back for a while, eyelids sinking further down. Leaving Riza trying her best to keep him engaged, Roy shuffled to the side of the vehicle, leaning out to check on their progress by shouting at Havoc in the front seat.

"How much longer?"

"A little less than five minutes. How's the chief?"

"He's conscious, but he's not all there at the moment."

Havoc waved an acknowledgment and Roy withdrew to join Riza in keeping Edward awake for as long as long as they could.

His eyes were glassier by the second, his replies fewer in number, and when he did respond to them they couldn't make out what he was saying. They were losing him.

When the hospital finally came into view, Roy thought that this might be the one time he was actually happy to see the imposing building. Havoc halted the truck directly in front of the entrance and Roy was hopping from the back and running full tilt into the main hall before the engine shuddered to a stop. He ordered an emergency squad of the best doctors in their field to be put together and ready to operate or medicate or treat or whatever other medical-type things they did as soon as possible.

With the receptionists scurrying to obey the abrupt commands, he grabbed an abandoned cot and charged through the doors, thankful that Havoc had the foresight to be holding one of them as wide as he could without getting in the way. He was a bit surprised when he realized the other door was being held open by none other than Alphonse Elric- looking more like an upset puppy than any seven foot suit of armor had right to be. He pushed that thought out of his head and put his focus back on getting Fullmetal onto the flimsy cart.

Getting the teen out of the truck bed was much more difficult than putting him there had been. It took a great many awkward maneuvers and soothing gestures from Alphonse, but eventually they bundled him inside and watched as the team of medical professionals whisked him away. They were already spouting gibberish about dilation, hematomas, hypothermia, and other terms Roy didn't really understand in between grilling the younger boy about any allergies or previous conditions his brother had.

As quickly as that, Roy realized that he and his subordinates were no longer needed. He said as much to his lieutenants, but was unsurprised when they both requested to stay and keep an eye on the situation. He granted their request and let Fuery know the situation with a brief phone call. After informing him of the latest events and declaring that the entire team had the rest of the day off, he directed a nod of thanks to the nurse who had just reappeared with his overcoat, still warm from its time as a makeshift thermal blanket, and set off for home.

There was a full bottle of apple schnapps and a cold tile floor just waiting for him to collapse at home.

He didn't plan to disappoint.