A/N: Yay! So I have this for you. I had to go specifically watch X2 just to get Bobby and John down, and I'm pretty sure they're alright, but I'm not as certain about Kitty. Still, I hope you enjoy it, and if anyone could help out with X-Men canon, that'd be wonderful. Thanks for reading!

Thank you to In Love, khr1410, bloodynessie, Breyannia, gundamzbd36, Vysenet, Dark Cat Food Lover, DarkKitsuneFluffy, lizzylue skadoo, and 2 Guests for reviewing.

Title: Foundations

Author: liketolaugh

Rating: T

Pairings: None

Genre: Angst/Adventure

Warnings: AU

Summary: If Edward was one thing, he was fire. But if he wasn't careful, he was going to burn himself out. Or, Edward Elric is a mutant, Mustang disapproves of him almost burning down the office, and the Xavier Institute is wary of military operatives no matter how old they are.

Disclaimer: If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist or the X-Men, would I really be here right now?

John found Edward curled up against a wall, head buried in his arms, knees drawn up to form a tight ball. Flames licked black leather and the brick wall behind him, gradually cooling from blinding white to a light orange, and John's eyes followed it with a strange fixation.

John crossed the pavement to sit beside Edward, a few feet away, so the fire didn't burn him. Ed tensed visibly, but didn't look up, arms tightening.

For a long time, both of them sat there, and gradually, Ed's fire cooled to a more normal state, a beautiful, flickering ember-bright orange surrounded by glowing amber. He tilted his head, just revealing exhausted gold eyes, and spoke in a weary mutter.

"What do you want?"

John didn't look up, flicking his lighter instead. Open, closed. Open, closed. "I hate the military," he said finally.

Ed didn't even scowl; he just sighed and turned his head back into his arms, hunching over as if to protect himself from an onslaught.

"I don't want anything to do with them," John continued, still not looking. Open, closed. "Not in a million years." Finally, he looked up, eyes serious. The compulsive motion stopped. "But you're not very military, are you, Ed?"

Ed froze, flames flaring briefly in response to his emotions. Then, slowly, he sat back up, letting his arms fall and his legs loosen slightly. "No," he said slowly, wide gold eyes fixed on John, hesitation visible in their depths, untouched by the gradient of fire-orange. "I hate the military just as much as you do. If I'd had a choice, I never would have been a part of it in the first place."

John nodded and looked back down. He leaned back against the fall and flicked his lighter open, this time setting the flame alight. Then, without even a blink, he sent the fire soaring forward, turning the simple lighter into a violent flamethrower for the briefest of moments.

It died down a second later, and John shut the lighter.

"I've never seen another fire mutant before," John told Ed. "I like it."

Ed stared at him for a moment, and then, slowly, he smiled. Letting go of his legs entirely, he shifted to face John more. "Yeah? I like yours, too. How's it work?"

John shrugged and waved a hand, sending fire from Ed's hair flying off into the sky. "I don't know, I just do it. Comes naturally, I guess."

Ed looked at it with interest and shifted again, hands settling firmly on the ground. "A lot of the mutations here are really cool," he admitted. "But I haven't seen a lot of them. No one will talk to me."

John snorted. "Yeah, they're afraid of you."

"Yeah, I got that."

John sat there beside Ed and they talked for a long time, topic shifting gradually from mutant powers to fire to people, and so on. Ed became gradually more animated, smiling a little more, and John stopped looking at the ground and instead looked at Ed.

Finally, the flame making up Ed cooled and curled back into his flesh form, and he looked down, almost startled. Holding his hand out as if to inspect it, he curled and uncurled the fingers experimentally. John flicked the lighter shut, pocketed it, and stood up.

"Let's go," he said decisively.

Ed stared at him a moment, then smiled and hopped up. "Yeah."

People stared at both of them as they crossed the grounds back to the school. Ed ducked his head and scowled to himself resentfully, and John looked straight ahead, a fire unaffected by the wind.

Ed heard John snort derisively. "Oh, now he shows up," John muttered, eying Scott's approaching form scornfully. "It figures that he shows up after all the mess is all cleaned up."

Ed shot John a halfhearted scowl for the 'mess' comment, but then was distracted as Scott reached them. Despite his recent release of energy, Ed felt himself warm noticeably and eyed Scott warily.

Scott's expression was grim, but in a different way than before. He was standing up straight, gaze apparently on Ed, focused as the laser beams he shot.

"Fullm-" Ed sighed. Scott stopped. John flicked his lighter threateningly. "Edward."

Ed paused and glanced up.

"I'd like to apologize for my behavior." Ed started, gold eyes lifting to red shades. "It was inappropriate and prejudiced, which goes against the ideals of this school." Scott's gaze was steady, owning up to his mistake without hesitation. Ed stared at him with wide eyes. "It was wrong of me to judge you for something when I know nothing of the circumstances surrounding it."

Ed let out his breath in a soft puff. "No. No, that's alright. You've got a history, right?" He smiled dryly. "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be," Scott said with certainty. John snorted derisively. Scott added, expression serious, "The Professor called a staff meeting while you were…" He trailed off.

"Burning," Ed supplied, crossing his arms.

If Scott thought that was morbid, it didn't show. "Yes, burning. He told us about what your mission really was – research, right?" Ed nodded. "And he instructed us to treat you as we would any other student."

Ed looked up at him and smiled humorlessly. "Yeah, okay. Sure."

Scott specifically didn't wince. Instead, he said, "You should go to class. It's period four about now." He made as if to say something else, changed his mind, turned abruptly, and left.

John shrugged at Ed, pocketing his lighter again and rolling his eyes. "May as well," he muttered dubiously. Ed sighed and nodded.

They shared their period four, Ed recalled. They both had History, and it was about halfway through the period when they showed up.

Ed hesitated just outside the History Room door, eying it for a moment, but then he lifted his head, eyes flashing defiantly, and John smirked at him as Ed led the way in.

The history teacher glanced at them mid-lecture, paused when she saw who it was, and said crisply,

"Sit down and open your books. We're on page 427."

Not a word passed her lips about their lateness, even as late in the period as it was, not to mention the classes they'd skipped earlier.

John ignored his assigned seat (not that he ever acknowledged it regardless) and sat beside Ed, who sat down and opened his book, keeping his eyes trained on the text as a student read aloud.

The teacher seemed to be calling on students at random, fairly normal in this class. What wasn't normal?

"Edward, your turn to read."

Ed started, gold eyes flicking up, meeting the teacher's briefly. The teacher looked expectantly back, not betraying a hint of her thoughts, and a pleased smirk flashed across Ed's face before he looked back down and began to read, quick and clean.

"On the night of December 16-17, 1916, they tried to kill Rasputin. The plan was simple…"

The teacher had never asked him to read before.

Despite himself, Ed felt a tiny, hopeful spark. Maybe things would be different.

Classes continued in that general vein – though some with more flickering glances than others – and dinnertime came. Ed got his dinner and sat at an empty table, and John plopped down beside him, louging casually.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Ed said to him, picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of chicken violently. "People are gonna be assholes about this."

John snorted and jabbed his own fork at him. "Yeah, well, just because most people are judgmental assholes doesn't mean I have to be. Fuck, mutants ought to stick together, because nonmutants sure as hell won't stick with us."

Ed thought of Mustang and Havoc and Breda, Fuery and Falman and Trisha, and shrugged noncommitally.

John eyed him suspiciously, but then shrugged and looked down to his food, taking a bite. "Besides, fire, that's a different kind of mutation. I get it, okay?"

Ed stared at him a moment, then smiled, nodded, and went back to his dinner.

They hadn't been eating for more than a few minutes when another tray landed across from them. John rolled his eyes, gave a dramatic sigh, and glanced up. Ed looked up, too, gold eyes glinting curiously. He started.

Bobby had sat down across from them, blue eyes focused on his dinner, cheeks burning slightly. John raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, look, it's a Drake," he sneered. "How nice. Except it breathes ice."

"Is that what he does?" Ed mused, interested.

Bobby glanced up and scowled at John briefly, then shifted his gaze to Ed, sitting up. "Hi," he offered, apparently choosing to ignore John entirely. "You might not remember me, but I'm-"

"Bobby," Ed finished, nodding. "That kid I…" He waved vaguely. "Tried to talk to." He smiled, half wary and half friendly. "Hey."

"Hey," Bobby repeated, still looking uncomfortable. "Look, I'm-"

"It's fine," Ed cut him off, just as uncomfortable. "Forget it." Bobby looked unconvinced. Ed sighed. "Look-" He held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Ed. Nice to meet you."

Bobby smiled and grabbed it. "Hi. I'm Bobby."

"Great." Ed released it and went back to his food, rolling his eyes and smiling slightly. "So you control ice? What's that like?"

John flicked his lighter, smirking slightly. Bobby frowned at him, then answered Ed, "Uh, it's hard to explain. Like any mutant using their powers, I guess. It feels…" A slight smile appeared on his face, recalling the feeling, and he reached out and tapped Ed's glass. Ice spread from the point of contact, freezing the water through and frosting the glass. "Good. Natural, I guess. Why?"

Ed shrugged, grinning easily as he poked the ice experimentally. Frozen all through. "No reason."

"He has a research assignment," John threw out, almost in the same moment. "From the military." He smirked when Ed frowned at him.

"Huh?" Bobby looked confused.

Ed sighed, scowled at John, and looked at Bobby, shrugging again. "It's nothing," he muttered, feeling rather attacked already. But in a good way. Like at the office, when Mustang teased him, or Breda. "I'm looking to find out how mutant powers work. Alchemically speaking, they shouldn't be possible." He considered. "None of them break the conservation of mass, so I pretty much just have to find out how they get around the conservation of Natural Providence… and you're not listening." He rolled his eyes at Bobby's bemused look. "It's not important."

"I'll take your word for it," Bobby muttered. "What about you, then? What do you do? I just saw fire."

"I catch fire," he offered, smile gone, expression thoughtful, almost pensive. "Or turn to it, I guess."

Bobby groaned dramatically. "There's two of you."

John laughed. "Deal with it, Iceboy."

"Shut it, Pyro."

"You two know each other already?" Ed asked with interest.

"Kind of," Bobby offered, glancing at John, expression wry. "We see each other around. Everyone here does. But we don't talk much."

John flicked his lighter again. "He puts out my fires," he offered dryly. "Doesn't like it much when I set things on fire." He smirked.

"I can't imagine why," Ed muttered, already warm in a way completely unrelated to his power. He laughed at John's affronted look and Bobby's triumphant one and added, "Then again, some things just need to catch fire." He laughed again when their looks switched.

After dinner, Bobby convinced both fire mutants to go out back and play a game, just the three of them, with others off doing other things. Bobby brought out a basketball and convinced the other two to play that, and it ended up being more fun than Ed had expected. The other two had had to teach him how to play, of course, but he picked it up quickly and soon was having more fun than he had in a while.

Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all. He grinned and ducked under Bobby's arm, shot at the basket, and missed.

"Nice try, salamander," Bobby snorted, grabbing the ball as it bounced back.

Ed stopped and stared at him. "Salamander?" he echoed, befuddled.

"Well, you can't be Pyro," Bobby said logically. "He's Pyro." He pointed at John, who smirked, eyes on Ed.

Ed stared at him a moment longer, and then rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Yeah, he could stay here a while longer.

The three of them went to bed a while later, and Ed instantly grabbed the phone.

"If you do that again, it won't be you setting you on fire," John threatened.

Ed rolled his eyes at him. "Relax. I'll talk out here, you go do your thing." He plopped onto his bed and dialled the number of the military dorm as John went into the bathroom.

"Brother?" came Al's voice almost instantly, chronically concerned, as he had been lately.

"Hey, Al," he greeted, leaning back against the wall.

"You sound cheerful," Al noted, sounding surprised and pleased.

"Is it that obvious?" Ed chuckled wryly. "Yeah. Today was pretty hectic, but I made a few friends, so I guess it's alright."

Al laughed. "Brother, you thrive in chaos."

Ed grinned. "Well, there's nothing wrong with a little chaos."

"So what are they like?" Al asked with interest. "They must be good for you, if you're this cheerful already."

Ed sighed and smiled wryly. "You know me too well, Al. One of them is named John; he's a fire mutant, too…"

Al listened as Ed told him about his new friends and then, more reluctantly, what had happened that day, which earned him a few exclamations from an offended-on-his-behalf Al. When he finished, Al sighed, and he could almost hear the younger boy's smile.

"I'm glad things are getting better for you, brother. You haven't sounded yourself lately."

Ed sighed and shrugged, not having a real answer to that. "Yeah, well, it's over now." I think, he added mentally. "I'll be fine, don't you worry, Al. What about you? Find any stray cats lately?"

"Uh…"

"Don't answer that, I probably don't want to know. But I'm not taking responsibility for them, Al!" He scowled playfully at the phone, more lighthearted than he had been in two weeks. "Was it a good day?"

"Yes! I got Warrant Officer Falman to show me how to work the switchboard…"

It was Ed's turn to listen, smiling faintly as Al recounted his day, and then relayed what progress he'd made on getting the civilian visa, which was very little, unfortunately.

John returned from the bathroom partway through the conversation and changed into his pajamas, cocking his eyebrows at Ed, who scowled playfully and ignored him.

It was some time before Ed hung up, but he was smiling, putting the phone back where it belonged.

"Who's that, anyway?" John asked abruptly, flicking the ever-present lighter. "You call them every damn night. Don't they get annoyed? I sure as hell would."

Ed rolled his eyes at John and grinned fondly. "Ha ha, John. That was Al. He's my little brother."

John paused. "Little brother, huh," he muttered quietly, looking at the ceiling.

Ed nodded and grabbed his maintenance kit and his pajamas, ducking into the bathroom. Quickly, he showered, dried off his automail, and set about doing his maintenance, thinking ruefully that Winry would kill him if she ever found out he'd left it this long.

He grabbed his oil – damn, almost out – and oiled his leg carefully, testing it out afterward. He smirked triumphantly. That was better – his movement had been going off a little. He really shouldn't leave it so long.

He redressed and exited the bathroom, found John already asleep, and fell into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

John, Ed learned, did not much care for classes. Neither did Bobby. Nor did he himself, for that matter, but he had a reason; the course material was all way too easy.

Ed had the day off training, so when the science and math classes came around, he waved cheerfully at John and Bobby and headed off to the library, ignoring John's mutters about crazy bookworms.

He wasn't sure how long he spent in there – seeing as he had no more classes that day, he had no reason to keep track of time – but eventually, he looked up, blinking when he found a girl studying him with slightly regretful interest.

"Hi," he said slowly, confused.

"Hi," she said quietly, setting her books down across from him. She smiled hesitantly. "My name's Kitty."

Ed was still giving her a deeply confused look. "Hi, Kitty. My name's Ed."

"I know." Of course she knew. Ed sighed and gave her an expectant look. She smiled, somewhat embarrassed. "Right. Um." She fumbled for a moment. "So what brought you here?"

Ed set his book down, giving it up for now. It wasn't especially helpful anyway – mostly coping strategies that wouldn't generally work for him anyway. But you never knew what could come in handy. "I nearly set my CO's office on fire," he admitted bluntly.

Her eyes widened. "Wow! Did you get in trouble?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Don't tell anyone I said so, but Mustang can be okay sometimes." He rolled his eyes, thinking of the smirk on Mustang's face if he ever knew Ed had said that. "Hell of a lot better than some of the bastards there, anyway." General Yu, for instance. Or Brigadier General Grand.

"Oh," she said in a small voice. Change the subject, change the subject!

"What about you?" he asked abruptly, uncomfortable with her expression. "How did you get here?"

She brightened almost instantly, smiling sheepishly. "Oh, well…"

He listened as she told her story, which somehow led them into talking about family, and Ed was just telling her about Al when she let out a small 'oh'.

"I'm keeping you from your books, aren't I?" Kitty smiled, slightly sheepish. "Go ahead and read. I'll just study or something." She sighed at the thought.

He shrugged and watched her bend down to get her homework, setting it on the table to start, and then reached for his book, reading again.

To his surprise, she really did stay, doing her work quietly across from him as his eyes scanned the pages, absorbing the information contained within them, mind like a fire searching out fuel, only this fuel never ran out.

But none of it was what he was looking for.

"Ed."

Ed's eyes flickered across the page. There are two known categories of mutant awakenings. One of these awakens gradually as puberty sets in and grow more powerful as they age.

"Ed?"

The other awakens in a crisis, a threatening or stressful situation, and instantly grow into their full power. Both these types of mutants have very little control if left untrained.

"Ed!"

Unfortunately, very little is known about how mutant powers are able to manifest…

"Edward!"

Ed started and looked up inquisitively, frowning. "Huh?"

Kitty gave him an exasperated look. "It's dinnertime."

"Huh?" Ed repeated, looking at the clock. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Kitty replied, giggling slightly. "Come on."

Ed frowned, but then sighed and closed the book. It wasn't helpful anyway. None of them were. He put away the books quickly and then grabbed his notebook, following Kitty out the door and into the hall.

Kitty was quiet, almost nervous-looking, glancing at him every few moments. Ed tried not to notice, but finally he told her,

"I'm not gonna do anything, you know."

She started and smiled bashfully. "Oh, no, I know that. You seem nice now that I've talked to you. I just wanted to say I'm sorry, okay?"

Ed glanced at her and smiled a little. "It's fine," he assured her.

They reached the cafeteria and got their food, and Ed sat down at an empty table again. Soon enough, John appeared, too, and then Bobby.

"Kitty?" Bobby said, surprised. "What're you doing here?"

Kitty shrugged. "Same thing as you, I guess." She smiled and looked down, taking a bite of her food. "Ed's nice. I don't know why I didn't talk to him sooner."

They talked for a while, and Ed was smiling and laughing, fire a warm presence in his belly instead of threatening to spill from his skin, gold eyes bright and intent.

"I don't get why you don't have to go to the damned science and math classes," John complained after a while. "They're stupid."

"I tested out," Ed explained casually, taking a last bite and pushing the empty tray aside. "I need some pretty advanced science and math stuff for my alchemy, so I learned it a long time ago."

Suddenly, they were quiet, and Ed cringed slightly. They'd managed to forget entirely his origins for a while, but when he said that- Then Kitty offered, "Can you show us some?" Eyes flickering quickly over the other two, then back to Ed. "Some alchemy, I mean."

Ed gave her a hesitant look, then pulled the tray back over to him, took everything off it and set it aside, and pressed his hands together softly. Then, placing them to the tray, he focused, second nature to him now, and blue sparks poured from his fingertips like a magic fountain, breaking the tray down and building it back up into a model of Professor Xavier's wheelchair.

Kitty gasped softly, and Bobby muttered, "Wow." John didn't look like he disagreed.

"Looks almost like a mutant power," John said offhandedly.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" Ed mused. "But it's not. I learned how to do this. Anyone can." He clapped his hands again, splitting it into pieces, and then again, putting it back together in its original shape.

"Pretty cool," Bobby told him. Ed grinned, more confident now.

"Yeah. I could reduce it back to its original oil, too-" -The array was right there in his mind's eye- "-but that's probably a bad idea."

"What, just 'cause there'd be oil everywhere?" Bobby asked, amused. Ed rolled his eyes at him.

"Yes, that."

"And that's useful to the military?" Kitty asked softly, eyes on her own half-finished tray.

They went quiet again. This time, it was a few minutes before any of them spoke.

"Yeah," Ed said softly. "There are military applications. The State Alchemist division is almost completely devoted just to that. My commanding officer, Colonel Mustang-" He glanced at Kitty. "I mentioned him to you earlier, right? He can snap his fingers and burn a hundred people at once. More if they're all crowded together." He managed a smirk. "He's useless in the rain, though."

The silence was killing him, pressing on his ears. Then John smirked.

"Sounds like my kind of guy," he said, flicking his lighter. "How's he do it?"

"His gloves are made of something called ignition cloth," Ed explained. "He snaps and makes a spark, and then he uses the circle on his glove to change the elements of the air to direct the fire's path, heat, and size." He shrugged. "I don't know much more than that." A lie; he could see it, all of it, every nook and cranny and loophole, in the truth inside his mind. "Flame alchemy is pretty rare."

"They got guys like that and they let you in?" Bobby asked quietly.

The silence was back.

"Yeah," Ed muttered, focused on the table, fingers and foot tapping restlessly. "Mustang found me after a bad accident, alchemy rebound. It takes some damn high level alchemy to get a rebound that bad, you know? So he pulled some strings, let me take the test – you need to take a test to get into the State Alchemist division, and only one or two people pass a year – and I passed it." He shrugged. "Year later, here I am." He rolled his eyes at himself. "Guess that's what he gets for recruiting someone young enough to have not grown into their mutant power, huh?" He smirked.

"Why?" Kitty asked, oblivious to Ed's attempt to lighten the mood.

Ed hesitated. "Why did I join?"

"Well, yeah," John said bluntly, flicking his lighter again, eyes on Ed. "You said yourself that you hated it. The fuck possessed you to join?"

"…I needed to help my brother." He glanced at them. "The rebound that got me, it got him, too, but worse. I need to fix it."

"What happened?" Kitty asked, concerned.

Ed bristled slightly. "None of your business," he hissed, trying not to snap. "I just need to fix it, trust me. It was my fault anyway." All of it.

From then on, Kitty almost always did her work with Ed in the library, and it was a week before she finally asked what he was looking for.

Ed shrugged. "I've got a research assignment," he said. "I want to find out how mutant powers work, alchemically speaking." She was still looking at him. "What?"

"Is that all?" she asked dubiously.

He gave her a slightly surprised look. "Well, no. I'm looking for my own things, too." His expression softened, growing pensive. "It's that thing I mentioned… helping Al." He glanced at her. "My brother. His name's Al. I'm looking for the Philosopher's Stone, but there's nothing about it here." He glared at the book. "Well, not that I can find. Doesn't mean I'll stop looking."

"The Philosopher's Stone," she echoed, a little wonder in her voice.

His voice lowered, angry at himself, glaring at the table. "Yeah." Self-recrimination in his tone.

"No, no, you don't get it, it's not some mental block, they literally can't burn."

Ed was giving Storm a frustrated look, and finally, she raised her hands in surrender. "Fine. We'll work on that later. Let's go back to the beginning. How does it feel when you set yourself on fire?"

He sighed frustratedly, shuffling restlessly from foot to foot. Very little had changed with Storm, really, since he'd caught fire in Professor Xavier's office, only now she didn't give him the looks or sudden pauses she used to. "It feels almost like I'm releasing energy, okay? Like there's a lot of pent-up energy and I need to let it out, and I do, and it's kind of a relief. Depending on what I'm doing, it can be a rush, too. Like alchemy."

'Like alchemy', he knew, was just about useless to Storm, but he couldn't help it. It was the only thing he could compare it to. Maybe it was just the way his mind worked.

Storm sighed, amused and exasperated. "Alright, you win this round, Ed," she said, even though he wasn't trying to. "I'll set up some equipment and we'll have you change in front of it a few times…"

They went through some tests, only a few of which they hadn't done some semblance of before, and that lasted a few hours before Storm released Ed. Just as he was leaving though, she asked,

"Ed, what do you know about why your limbs won't burn?"

He gave her a look filled with deep-set frustration, anger directed only at himself. "I know exactly what's wrong with them," he said tightly, and he turned and left before she said another word."

"Hey, Ed?"

"Hey, Kitty," Ed replied absently, looking up. "Dinnertime already?" Kitty had taken it upon herself to alert Ed when it was time to go, after seeing that he obviously wasn't going to do it himself (which exasperated her to no end).

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "I just wondered…" She bit her lip. He gave her an expectant look, setting his book down.

"Kitty?"

"Can you teach me alchemy?" she blurted out.

He started. For a long time, he didn't say anything, even as she looked at him hopefully.

Teach her alchemy? Him? He had no business teaching anyone alchemy, not after what he did with it. Not after what he saw. And he was thirteen, that was too young to be teaching anybody anything, let alone something as complicated and dangerous as alchemy.

He gave her an uncertain look.

"Please?" she pleaded. "It's not like I can learn from someone else, and I really want to learn, Ed."

Could he put himself in Teacher's shoes, teach someone how alchemy worked? It wasn't just any ordinary science, or even just a way of life. Alchemy was a line of thought, its own way of thinking, way of looking at the world and making it your own.

"I'm not sure I know how," he muttered dubiously, biting his lip.

"Can you try?"

"…Yeah."

I'd like to address some concerns presented by a few people. First, one person brought up the fact that the Truth doesn't exist in the original anime. This is true, but I need the Truth, sadly. So can we pretend it does? Please? And theoretically, it could, I think - we really don't see a whole lot of the inside of the Gate, anyway.

Also, I told someone that Bobby was not yet Iceman. That is incorrect, since watching X2 led me to believe that they get their names upon entering the school, not upon becoming X-Men. Related to this, Ed's name is not actually going to be Salamander, though it might be a nickname.

Finally, someone pointed out that Ed's automail was common knowledge. That's true in Amestris, but when he's only been in the military for a year, I figure news wouldn't have spread outward much. So America? Has never even heard of the Fullmetal Alchemist, let alone his automail limbs. Sorry, I should have been clearer about that.

That's all and please review!