AN: Yes, Puppet has been updated and I am back in gear! I know it's been a horribly long time since I've last updated but I'm back for the long haul now. I messaged everybody I could and if for some reason I left someone out I'm really sorry! I also had quite a few guest reviews that I wish I could respond to but alas, I cannot PM such reviews. So thank you to those anons. You guys are awesome.

I really want to give credit for my return where it's due. My most faithful and supportive reviewer TheWarriorPony really helped me come out of my writer's block, as well as a few other of you have, and I really feel like she should take A LOT of credit. If you want to read Harry Potter/Fullmetal Alchemist awesomeness and show this wonderful woman some support, I encourage you to take a look at her story! She's amazing.

Also, guys. I have a BETA! YES, FINALLY! She was fantastic and responded as soon as I messaged her pleading for help. She's also been an amazing editor and soundboard so far so I'm really hoping she'll be by our side for the rest of this journey. A HUNDRED THANK YOU'S TO CrazyFangirlWhoMindsHerWords. Thank you so much for helping me out! :)

Puppet Chapter Thirteen

Ed's nose burned furiously, as if he had just sniffed pure acid into each nostril and it was now searing its way to his very lungs. Coughing violently, the blonde doubled over on the edge of the bed and put a hand to his mouth while his eyes absolutely melted and blurred with hot tears in response to the sharpness under his face.

'Fuck,' he panted, pushing away the pouch of torture and ignoring the medic's strict hands that knocked his own aside to stick the bag closer, 'Get that shit away from me! Fuck, that hurts!'

'Stop whining, kid,' the man grabbed Ed's automail hand and placed the bag in none-too-gently, 'These are smelling salts. They'll help you keep in the present and maybe even regain some memory over time. So use them. It's medicine.'

'Well I don't like medicine that's going to kill me, thanks.'

Trying now to forget the smell, after an entire morning of stressing himself ragged in remembering every tiny detail of what was going on, he focused on the coolness of the metal table underneath him and the lavender oil that was wafting off of his own hair after the bath that morning. It was cool in this side of the compound. He'd forgotten how cool it was compared to the other parts, which really didn't make much sense, since most of the entrances were located in the North Wing- all of the supplies were there, after all, and there were some colossal boxes of foods and other things that needed hauled down-, so logically there should be more drafts down that way. Yet Ed was shivering and itched to wrap the long, red coat that was thrown over Artabanus' arm around himself.

The man gave him a gentle smile at the look and made the slightest hand motion which said "soon".

'Edward, are you listening to me?'

Bitter golden eyes snapped back up to the young Ukreytan medic, who was now exasperatedly holding the small, black, velvet pouch out with something akin to placid impatience. The blonde snatched the bag away and cupped it in the palm of his automail hand, a faint sneer curling his nose.

'Now you're going to be inhaling that a lot. So I want you to replenish the contents every three days. The main component is ammonium carbonate, which isn't very hard to find. I know an apothecary in Albupow that has all the ingredients. Artabanus knows the same woman so you should be set if you go there. Also,' and at this point the man turned to Artabanus, 'get Edward candy. A lot. Hard, preferably. Oral fixation does wonders for attention. You know where that shop is in the market?'

The older alchemist nodded and directed another smirk to Ed, 'So candy and chemicals? That's the best we can do?'

The medic glared hard at Artabanus now, 'He needs a real doctor. You need to take him back to the hospital as soon as possible. I cannot fathom why you didn't take him earlier with this memory loss going on. Who knows what else was affected?'

'So when we go into town we need chemicals, candy, and to go to the hospital. Is that all?'

Confusion swirled around Ed in a thin wisp, mingling with the humming panic that had been present for the past day since he learned of his own memory loss. Today Artabanus had been... irritable. Except not. He was being short tempered with everyone they came across, and sarcasm was a new feature that Ed never expected in the man- yet it was flying freely today. Maybe it was because the man was stressed but Ed wasn't sure what to think, really. And still, under the hum and the curling uncertainty, there was a hot, greasy shame and anger that covered Ed in viscous rot. But he couldn't let his mind go to that- not now. Not here.

Stay in the present, he told himself harshly, finally giving in and loosening the cord around the pouch to inhale the ammonia. Just in case. His head immediately reeled backward away from the sharp, astringent scent and his brain swam with a lightness, as if a cloud had bloomed in his very skull.

'Are you sure this isn't going to kill me? I think this is going to kill me,' Ed shakily rewound the solidified chemicals and winced at the slight throb that rang through his temples. He had to admit that the sharp scent did bring him to a focused kind of state, though, which soothed the nerve-jittering panic that had been a constant since last night.

'Short term use should be harmless, Edward. This is mostly used to reawaken a person from a faint so it's been somewhat tested over the years. However,' the medic tapped a pen on the edge of the bed to expound his words, 'you need to see a doctor to get this issue resolved. There's really no telling what these chemicals can do to your brain after an extended period of time. It is in no way a permanent solution to use these for the rest of your life. It's just the best I can do right now.'

Again, a thinly veiled hostile look was shot at Artabanus before the man helped a shaky Ed off of the metal table-bed.

They were seen out of the sterile private room and Ed could only cradle the tiny bag in his palm and feel a deep-seated dread try to make its way to the surface. But he fought back with whatever might or will he had left in his bones. That seemed to be all he was doing these days- weakly clawing inside of himself, trying to find the right things to feel and just battling himself in general. He remembered a time that he had been completely confident in himself- for the most part at least- and would forge headlong into whatever course of action he had decided upon. As a younger teenager and even as a preteen, he had had such powerful resilience to anything that opposed or questioned him. If his earlier self could see him now...

Not just his younger self, either. What would Mustang think? What would Al think?

A numb guilt writhed in his chest and he tried to ignore it by watching Artabanus' feet as they walked down the East Wing back towards the cafeteria. Al wouldn't be happy. Maybe he wouldn't be unhappy with Ed directly, but he would definitely be upset about this complete insecurity that now filled Ed like the burning flash of passion and ambition once had. But Ed was the only one to blame, really...

All of this- every single thing that had happened over the past, what? Year?- it was all his fault and there was no denying it.

He shouldn't have let James into his apartment that night. That was what led him to being captured and unwilling to fight back, for fear of injury to his beloved student. He shouldn't have put himself in the position to gain the interest of Artabanus. He never exactly tried to hide himself or appear sublime, and now he realized all of Mustang's warnings were appropriate and painfully valid. It was his inattention, his ignorance, his fault that James was now permanently disfigured, and that he himself was so fucked up internally.

Tight, cold agony burned and squeezed his heart as he followed after Artabanus with velvet caressing his fingers, wishing with every fiber in his being that there was a way to reverse all of this.

Al would be back from Xing by now, certainly. And what kind of pain would he be in to find Ed missing? Mustang would take care of Al and Winry, probably. But that still wouldn't heal their heartbreak. Winry was probably so worried about his automail right now, even though the synthetic limbs were holding up well, but there was no way she would know that. And Al... he had so much information to share with Ed. The blonde could imagine the eager spark that would be in his little brother's eyes as words of foreign knowledge spilled from overexcited lips. Ed could almost feel his brother's arms around him in the embrace that they would share upon Al's return.

Al had been gone for how many months? Nearly a year, wasn't it?

And that brought a whole new set of injuries to Ed's chest. His brother and he had never been apart for so long. It really felt like some part of him, some vital organ was missing. If he wasn't careful he would have said it felt like his shadow was missing. But Al was so much more than a simple shadow- most people just didn't seem to realize his genius. Al was always known through Ed's fame, as the Fullmetal Alchemist's little brother, Alphonse Elric. It all seemed so unfair to the blonde. Al was just as smart as him, just in different ways. Not everyone's mind worked the same, why should intelligence be based on just one thing or another?

His thoughts had wandered so much so that when he finally realized they'd stopped moving and looked up, Artabanus was staring down at him with a worriedly quirked eyebrow.

'It's going to be okay, Edward dearest. I promise. First thing tomorrow we'll head into town, okay?'

'Okay,' Ed murmured back, letting his eyes drop once more. Artabanus didn't try to correct his movement and before Ed knew it they were back in their own little bunker away from the compound. The redhead gave him a long, lingering kiss that the blonde actually managed to stomach even without Artabanus' alchemy holding him, and then left the room. Ed's burning lips twitched but he held in the roiling sickness rising in his throat, opting to go and lay on the bed, closing his eyes tightly as he prayed for sleep.

Rain pattered down against the glass, creating streams against the window that General Roy Mustang had the childish urge to follow with his gloved fingertips. Dark eyes narrowed at the gray, somber streets past the gates of Central Command as he allowed his thoughts to sluggishly swarm around the topic of his youngest missing subordinate. The loss was still sharp in his heart, especially when all the memories of their past came to a coalescing whirlwind in his mind.

Ed had been like some kind of not-son to him for the longest time, as Mustang was sure any other respectable officer would feel with a subordinate so young. Ed was only, what, twelve when he first joined?

Too young...

And now Mustang had failed him in the worst ways. Hands burrowed themselves in his hair as he bowed his head in a moment of weakness behind closed doors in the middle of this most solemn day. Maybe... maybe if he'd just sent Havoc out during those first weeks after Ed disappeared. Maybe if he'd just given up looking perfect in the eyes of the new Fuhrer Grumman and went to save his own man...

Maybe's, if's... he found he was questioning himself more and more lately.

Minutes passed in which his traitorous thoughts assaulted a mind writhing with indescribable guilt and loneliness. What if he and Al searched constantly for years and years and Ed never turned up? Or worse, what if they found the blonde... dead?

What would he do then?

He couldn't even imagine.

Another wave of hopelessness crashed over him.

And this was how Alphonse Elric found the famous Roy Mustang half an hour later. The young alchemist opened the door without knocking, as had become a bittersweet familiar habit he'd adopted from Ed over the last few weeks. The sight of a broken man with head in hands greeted him. The younger Elric understood completely, but something about seeing Roy Mustang of all people with those thoughts clearly illustrated in his hunched shoulders and shaking hands made something sharp and burning rise in Al.

Without a word Al slammed the door closed and took large, strong steps to the desk. Mustang obviously jumped back into an upright, ramrod-straight pose as soon as the door slammed, but Al was unforgiving as he planted his hands on the desk and towered over Mustang.

'Al...' came the guarded, cautious placation, but Al was having none of it.

Tears were already prickling the younger Elric's eyes as a thousand emotions bubbled to the surface.

'No,' Al said in a dangerously quiet voice, 'No, you're not allowed to look like that. You've always been the strong one. You can't give up now. Not on me. Not on Ed.'

The words sent a spear of guilt and anguish through the General's heart and he could only hang his head miserably, but Al slammed a fist on the hardwood, making the man jump back to attention.

'No. After we attempted transmutation, Ed was lost. He couldn't focus, couldn't be... aware of things anymore. It was like he just didn't care, like he just gave up, no matter how much I tried to get him to come back...' a strange look enveloped the prodigy's face then, 'And then you came. You talked to him... well, yelled at him. But still! After that, Brother was different. Impassioned, empowered. Whatever it is that you told him left a mark and made him move his mind forward. He started planning, and vowed to fix the wrongs that we had committed. That is the Roy Mustang I knew. The one that picked Ed up and filled him with impossible will with just words. The Roy Mustang I knew... I know... wouldn't give up now. Not now. It's not too late.'

Shocked completely speechless, Mustang could only sit there and watch as Al shakily removed his hands from the desk and stepped backwards. The younger Elric walked towards the door and gave one final backward glance before departing,

'It's not too late for my brother, General. And you know it. Ed is stronger than that. And he needs you now. So don't fuck this up.'

The door slammed closed behind the boy and Roy just sat at his desk before turning his eyes back to the rain descending on the world outside, his mind blessedly blank.

Of course, the neurons had to begin firing again at some point and so some time later, Mustang found Al's words looping through his mind, beginning to end and back again. It was a never-ending cycle that only served to deepen the man's guilt into a black hurricane of grunge inside his soul. And then the words finally seemed to sink in completely.

Roy had helped Ed back into reality after that family trauma caused by pride and alchemy. Just remembering that time was a slap in the face to the man, and he looked down quickly at his gloved hands. He almost expected the reports he singled out all those years ago to be lying at his fingertips but no. Those pages were long lost to time. They had all proclaimed the name Elric, and described a few incidents in which an alchemist had raised at least a few eyebrows with stunning transmutations. Significant enough that, as one of the military's head alchemists, the reports had found their way to Mustang.

Finally, after the third or fourth similar report came in, the Lieutenant General had found himself curious and figuring they needed a small vacation from desk work, took Hawkeye with him on the first train out to East City. From there they took the train to Resembool. The journey was light hearted and pleasant, and gave a good two or three day's rest away from Central and the paperwork always haunting his desk.

Even while walking from the station to the Elric's had been relaxed, despite the occasional glare or sneer from the locals. Mustang had seen enough of those looks in the past that he barely even noticed them then.

As soon as they reached the Elric's quaint countryside home, however, a sense of dark foreboding had fallen over Roy. Any good alchemist could sense when a large transmutation had been activated nearby, sometimes even months after it had occurred, and the Lieutenant Colonel definitely felt the chill seeping from that house. The taste of rust and copper settled on his tongue, reminding him of the time he'd been in the academy and was punched square in the face by some soldier's slighted lover. Blood had exploded in his mouth from his teeth scraping his cheek and he'd been washing red out from between his teeth days afterward.

This aura was just like that days-old blood, settling in his mouth, making him fight his gag reflex. He had surprised Hawkeye by striding up to the door and not even bothering to knock before barging into the house. He singled out the basement quickly and observed the darkened blood staining into the stone floor, taking in the enormous transmutation circle that was etched perfectly in white chalk. The darkness and chill in the air down there seemed to work their way into his very bones. If ever a place could be made unholy by events transpired there, surely this house was now a crux of bad omens.

When he left the house with a worried and confused Hawkeye at his heels, he had been seeing red. No matter what the reports said, no matter how talented this Edward Elric was, he should have known better than to try. Everybody knew better than to try. Maybe a week or so after this had all occurred, Mustang had admitted to himself the genius and artistry of the array sketched on the floor. But at that moment he was furious, blind to everything but one simple fact; this so-called "Great" alchemist had committed human transmutation. And judging by the inky black-tinted blood at the center of the dead circle, he had succeeded in bringing something back.

Everything for an hour or so after that was just a blur to Roy now. Leaving the house, storming up the stairs of the neighboring automail shop, pushing his way inside when the door was opened. The blonde boy sitting forlornly in a wheelchair. He hadn't even noticed the suit of armor until he had the blonde in the air while he yelled and demanded answers. Then a large metal hand had touched his arm while quiet apologies echoed out from a hollow helmet with an impossibly small and fragile voice. The stomach-chilling shock and pity had been a thing so strong that Mustang could feel it even now.

It was worse now, even. Now that he had the flesh and blood Alphonse to compare to the... to compare to what he had been.

It was all too much, but after a while things calmed down. Roy had made up his mind to at least offer the boys a chance. Obviously if Ed was able to perform a human transmutation and survive- and to actually bond a soul to a suit of armor- then he would be a great asset to the military. Roy made his offer, to Pinako's indignant outrage. The woman, not being able to hear any more, had stood and left the room.

Roy was finally left alone with the Elric brothers, and gave a glance at Alphonse before fixing his heated gaze on Edward.

They might have been young, they might have been foolish, but hell. With the things he'd seen in that basement, these boys were destined to be something great. Measuring the hopelessness and loss in Edward's dull golden eyes, something hot and stubborn rose in Roy. He was not going to leave until he was sure these boys listened to what he had to say. They could make their own choices after that but right here, right now... no.

'I'm not forcing you. I'm merely offering you the possibility,' at Ed's continuously blank stare, Roy continued strongly, 'Will you sit in that chair, wallowing in self-pity, or will you stand up and seize the chance the military can give you?' A glimmer of something flashed through golden eyes. Something fierce and biting, but it was gone as soon as it had come.

It wasn't enough. Roy had a line now, and if he just kept tugging...

'If you believe the possibility exists for getting your bodies back, you should seek it out. Keep moving, whatever it takes. Even if the way ahead lies through a river of mud.'

Blankness.

Roy remained quiet for a moment. He looked up at Al, then back down at Ed. They were both so silent. So young. So broken. Pity and anger swelled inside the Lieutenant Colonel but he schooled his features to remain placid.

'It's not too late. For you or for Alphonse. Do you understand me, Edward? But the moment you decide it's impossible, then it becomes so. Are you ready to give up everything- give up on your little brother- just because you got beaten down once? Are you really that weak, or are you strong enough to get up and keep moving forward?'

'I'm not weak,' the voice was small but it was strong, and finally, finally Edward Elric looked up and met Mustang's eyes without hesitation.

Molten, burning gold swarmed with so many emotions that Mustang felt his own chest constrict with the halt of his breath.

Roy leaned forward after a moment, pleased when the blonde's eyes stayed glued to his own in defiance, 'Then prove it.'

With that he rose and turned away without another word.

But no matter how far he journeyed away from the boy, those eyes stayed seared in his mind. Weeks later while sitting in Central, he would see a flash of gold and immediately think of Edward Elric. Eager and awaiting the day that the blonde would come to Central. It hadn't taken very long at all, Mustang now reflected, although at the time it had seemed like a lifetime passed before Ed arrived for the State Alchemy Examination. When Ed had sent word that he was leaving Resembool and heading to Central, Mustang left Eastern Command immediately so that he could observe the Examination.

He remembered how thrilled, pleased, and awed he'd been when he watched the twelve year old complete the exam with flying colors.

And then handing Ed his title...

It was all so long ago, but thinking back on it now Roy acknowledged the horror and the thrill of the time. The darkness and the light.

Will you sit and wallow in self-pity or will you stand up and move forward? His own words were like a high voltage shock and he stared out at his empty office sightlessly. What had he been doing this past year?

This was the moment he realized how much he had changed since the Promised Day. Since his promotion. He was always too afraid of stepping on toes, of stepping over boundaries now that he hadn't even moved. Not to help Ed, not to help himself. This was ridiculous.

'If you believe the possibility exists, you should seek it out. Keep moving no matter what.

Even if the way ahead lies through a river of mud.'

He scoffed to himself and stood abruptly, hands knotting into fists on top of his desk.

I haven't even been trying to do anything. I've been thinking about the loss of Edward instead of how to get him back. If I can't even listen to my own advice, who am I to try and command anyone?

'Alright, think. What is the most likely? Ed was being transported west by the Drachman rebels. The remains of the abductors and their vehicle were found very close to West City...'

Mustang continued mumbling to himself as he dragged out a map of Amestris and splayed it over the top of his desk. He remained hovering over the large paper as the hours passed, his mind racing and temples beginning to pulsate with a mild headache.

West... west... where could Ed be? If I were to abduct someone, where would I hide them? Surely not in a large, populated area like West City. Maybe a town nearby? Let's see... there's Aszamem, Ayzehep, Zoxxow... all those to the east. Maybe north or south. Oysixayxe, Bihbces, Albupow, Pendleton... there's just too many to choose from.

But still he stood and stared before digging through reports with possible correlations to Edward that he'd been hoarding in a cabinet behind his desk. Soon enough he was sweeping aside current reports and opening up every single folder, leaving his desk and floor a mess of pages.

He swept his pen across the face of several documents, dark eyes darting frantically. Al had said something a while back about thinking Ed would probably be closer to the Drachman border. Even if Ed's abductor wasn't affiliated with Drachma, Al had inferred, they would probably still keep Ed as close to the border as possible, so that the Amestrian military would be hesitant to do a mass search for him. Mustang then had agreed quietly while signing one paper after the next, firmly smothered by his grief and denial. Now that he thought about it, Al was definitely onto something.

Roy marked the folders of reports based as close to the Drachman border as possible and tossed the rest aside, causing a whole pile of papers to start gathering at his feet. Eventually he slid off his gloves so his fingers could sift through the pages easier.

There has to be something here... anything... out of hundreds of reports, at least one of them has to be valid...

Just as the thought came to him he froze and picked one report out of the rest, bringing it closer to him. It was from some months ago, first brought to the military police by a doctor. But there was something written further down the page that had him wanting to go back and strangle himself for not looking closer.

This is it. How did Al and I miss this...?

Apparently the doctor had a patient who'd had faint remnants of a potent and dangerous poison in his system. The doctor only became concerned about the entire incident a few weeks later and eventually felt it necessary to report it to the military. He'd told the patient's uncle to bring him back in every week to make sure the poison was now completely gone, and to monitor the after-effects that it might have, but the doctor never saw the boy again.

The uncle had introduced himself as Isaac, and the boy as Charlie. Isaac had told the doctor that Charlie was a mute. When asked to describe "Charlie", the doctor then told the military officials that he had golden hair and eyes.

'No fucking way,' Mustang murmured. He'd glanced at the report before but hadn't seen that description until just now.

I'm such a fucking idiot.

Cursing himself, he ripped his phone out of its cradle and dialed quickly, eyes still locked on the paper clenched in his hands as sweat beaded on his brow. The report was months-old, sure, but it was the only real lead he had. He couldn't disappoint Alphonse further. Couldn't disappoint himself further.

After many long, stressful seconds the line connected. A polite voice answered but was cut off after a moment, 'This is General Roy Mustang calling from Central Command. I need to speak with General Tulson immediately. I don't care what it takes or who you have to go through. I want Tulson on this phone NOW.'

Within a couple minutes the desired man was on the line.

Mustang braced himself against his desk, scowling at the diamond of a paper at his fingertips. A thought or two went through his mind that this move was completely abusing his authority but...

Fuck it. Ed's more important than my fucking rank.

'General Tulson. It's Mustang. Listen closely. There's a new lead in the Fullmetal Investigation. I know you have a few soldiers to spare out there at West Headquarters so I want you to send as many as you can to a town called Albupow and that surrounding area. I'll make a few arrangements to have more soldiers headed that way and inform Investigations, I just need you to get as many people there as possible and fast. They need to be on the lookout for Major Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Description: blonde hair, golden eyes, pale skin. He'll most likely be with someone who might be using the name "Isaac".'

A few questions drifted down the line to Roy but he barely heard them, answering them with a dismissive tone.

'Yeah, yeah, okay Tulson. I know Albupow is on the border and it might raise suspicions. I understand that, okay? Just have groups of your men patrol the streets and canvas the area. We'll deal with the politics later. I take full responsibility if something goes awry with the Drachmans. Our first priority is finding Major Elric.'

A few more commands later and Mustang was hanging up the phone. He needed to find Al.

There was a knock on the door and Mustang gave an absentminded invitation, already back to re-reading the report from Albupow. He was only brought back to the present when an odd feeling started to radiate against his right side. Finally turning to give attention to whoever had entered and was apparently staring at him, he was confused at the outraged look that was darkening Hawkeye's features. The woman was glaring at him with such intensity that he wanted to hide, but the part of his mind that apparently housed his survival instincts was still far off in the West.

'What is it Hawkeye?'

'Sir... your office is a mess.'

Exasperation fell over the General. Of all the things... 'There are things more important than the state of my office right now, Lieutenant.'

'Sir. Yesterday you agreed to hosting a secure conference with Fuhrer Grumman in here today. The Fuhrer is waiting in the outer office now.'

'...shit.'

AN: That's it for now. I am going to be updating AT LEAST once a week from here on out, not the crazy rapid-fire updating I did before that eventually had me crashing for months. But do expect continuous and frequent updates, just not every day.

Also, I apologize if the writing seems a bit rusty, as I have been gone for a while... once I get my pacing back it'll get better I promise!

Let me know what you think! Thank you so much for all of your support. You guys are the reason I'm fighting to continue this despite what life tries to throw at me. :)