"You're doing it again."

Alphonse nudged his older brother, who sat beside him on the train bench, with an elbow. Edward barely responded, his fair face set in a deep frown.

"Doing what," he mumbled, his gaze unfocused. The blond stared out the window, his eyes reflecting the passing countryside, but he was clearly looking internally.

"Brooding."

"Am not," was Edward's instant response. Alphonse mentally rolled his eyes. Ed had barely spoken for days, just seeming to think deeply about something with that broody frown of his. And it was getting on the Alphonse's nerves.

"What are you thinking about."

Edward shrugged. "I was just imagining what it would have been like if Alex had never been brought here. Would we have even left Resembool in the first place?"

Alphonse tilted his head a bit, trying to imagine it. "I don't know. I guess I've never thought about it. I think we would have, eventually. After all, it was Mustang who motivated us to leave."

"Yeah, I guess that's true." He shot a glance at his younger brother. "And then it would have just been you and me." Ed lifted his hand and waved it vaguely. "Do you think this whole journey we've taken would have been easier if it had just been us? I mean, he seems to have a talent for getting dangerous people interested in him."

"Pf, look who's talking." Alphonse considered his words for a moment. Then he shook his head. "I seriously doubt that. You and I get in plenty of trouble on our own."

Ed shrugged again, smiling a bit. "Yeah, you are probably right."

"It does feel a bit weird with just the two of us again, but now that I think of it, that's exactly how it was in the beginning." It was almost hard to remember a time when there had only been two Elrics, but back then, when they were growing up, going to school, and training with Izumi, it had only been the two.

"Heh, yeah, just us against the world. We were naive little kids back then, weren't we."

"Hm." Alphonse stared out the window as well, and the two fell into a comfortable silence once more. Armstrong walked back from his stride up and down the compartments, his self imposed patrol, and nodded to Alphonse before he resumed his seat across the aisle. Al nodded back to their temporary bodyguard and resumed his thoughts. Armstrong had been assigned to them until Scar could be captured, and despite Edward's protest, Al was a little grateful Mustang had sent him along with them. The boy shuddered to think of encountering Scar again. The whole experience had left a brand in his mind. Next time, one of them could really be killed. No, he did not want to experience that fear again.

Alphonse spared a thought for their other brother. He hoped wherever Alex was that he was doing alright. He would have made it to Dublith by now. Alphonse hoped he had found some kind of peace there, and that they would see him soon. Without him by their side, it was like there was a piece of both of them missing, throwing off the balance between them. It had put a strain on both Edward and Alphonse. But Alex promised he would meet them in Resembool, so all they could do was wait. He wondered idly if Alex was missing them as much as they were missing him.

Across from him, Edward slumped forward a bit in his seat, his head tilting against the glass and his eyes drooping. Al chuckled to himself. He was falling asleep again. It might have just been him, but Edward seemed to sleep a lot more than was strictly necessary.

"Brother, you're going to fall out of your seat."

Ed mumbled a bit and leaned back, letting his eyes fall closed. Al sighed at the awkward angle of his neck and was about to say something again when he realized that Ed was already asleep. Al grumbled a bit and rifled through Ed's bag, grabbing a small pillow before carefully placing it under the slumbering boy's head.

"I swear, sometimes I feel like a pet owner…" Al paused as he was leaning away and took a second look at Edward. A spike of worry went through him as he noticed that Edward's cheeks looked flushed and he was sweating under his collar.

"Major Armstrong," Al said, cursing his inability to feel when Alex wasn't around, "can you come over here for a second?"

The large man stood to his full height and walked the short distance across the aisle. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I think brother has a fever. Can you check for me?"

Armstrong nodded, placing a large hand over Ed's forehead. He pulled back a second later. "I'm afraid he does. Has he been taking the pain medication for his leg?"

"Well, yeah, I made sure of it," Al said, pulling out the bottle of pills the doctors had given his brother to help with the swelling around the embedded metal in his leg. The fight with Scar had left the blond's automail port badly bent, the metal grinding into his bone and muscle on the right side. The stubborn alchemist had not let the hospital tamper with it, despite what anyone insisted, so the hospital had given him medicine to help minimize the swelling and risk of infection. Al had diligently made sure that Ed had taken the medicine, knowing his brother's severe aversion to drugs that clouded his mind. Edward complained a lot but took the pills, even if it was with ill grace.

Armstrong nodded. "Perhaps it is not strong enough to handle the pain he is in. We should stop at the next town and get some fever medication. Otherwise he may be in danger."

Al glanced down at his brother worriedly. "I think you are right." Edward had not let on how much pain he was in this whole time, but it had been days since the fight, and Alphonse had seen the wound on the right side of his leg. It wasn't getting any better, that was for sure. Where his stump connected to his port there was a mottled purple bruise, swollen enough that it was split in several places, the gaps covered in thick scabs. If Alphonse had had a stomach, it might have made him ill to look at it. As it was, he could only be sympathetic and make sure Ed took his medication. Clearly that had not been enough.

Edward woke sometime later to the distinct feeling of floating. Ugh, it looked like he had passed out this time. Someone was carrying him. He laughed at himself internally. He was amazed he had lasted this long with that fever he had been feeling off and on since his battle with Scar. His leg port throbbed hotly, as it had every day since. He shivered. He was cold.

Ed felt he was lying uncomfortably on something hard, and he could hear Al clanking. He cracked his eyes open slightly and winced at the bright sunlight. He groaned.

"Brother!" Al exclaimed somewhere to his left.

Edward furrowed his brows, confused. Wasn't Alphonse carrying him? He opened his eyes…and looked straight up into Armstrong's yellow mustache.

"Gah!" Ed struggled when he realized who was carrying him, but his body felt weak. "Put me down!"

"Calm down, Elric," Armstrong said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "You have a fever. We are taking you to a local doctor to get medicine."

Ed collapsed back into Armstrong's arms with a grimace on his flushed face. "I'm fine, I can walk," he grouched, even as he fell limp. Damn, he had been so careful to hide his pain, and now his body was betraying him. He hated to seem weak. He didn't need anyone to take care of him. He could take care of himself.

"Ed, you do realize you are saying that out loud," Alphonse said, sounding slightly amused through his worry.

Ed frowned. Maybe he was more out of it than he thought. He shook his head, willing away the dizziness. "Look, the sooner we get to Pinako, the sooner I can get better," he said, his voice slightly slurring.

"Resembool is still a day away," Armstrong said. "We need to break your fever."

Ed grumbled, but at least conceded that he did feel awful. His head throbbed hotly in time with his port, and he grit his teeth, closing his eyes once more. He could hear the bustle of people around them, and could feel their eyes on him. No doubt gawking at the weak injured kid who couldn't even walk. He bit his lip until he could taste his own blood.

The doctor's house was a small one. The small farming town didn't seem to have any formal hospital, seeming to rely on a few that had some rudimentary medical training. The man clearly worked several jobs, a farmer and a carpenter among them. The older man directed Armstrong to place Edward on a small cot where the major placed him gently.

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a doctor. I can help you with his fever, but this leg injury is beyond me." The man was in his late thirties with blond hair and kind brown eyes.

"And you are the only physician in this town," Armstrong inquired, a bit surprised.

The doctor's eyes turned a bit bitter. "This is a small town, sir. All of our doctors were drafted into the war about fourteen years ago. None returned." He began to examine Edward's wound a bit more closely, looking for infection. The boy bore it stoically, looking to the side in resignation. "There was one man who showed up about two years ago. He was an alchemist doctor, and a godsend."

"What happened to him," Alphonse said, suddenly interested.

The man glanced up, giving the suit of armor a strange look. "He disappeared about a month ago, unfortunately. Now all this town has is me."

"What was his name," Ed said, flinching slightly as the man poked at a particularly sensitive spot.

"Dr. Mauro."

Ed and Al exchanged a quick glance. An alchemist doctor named Mauro. It was too big a coincidence to pass up.

The doctor moved away and began to rummage through his supply cabinet.

Alphonse leaned down and whispered, "Do you think it could be Tim Marcoh?"

Ed's eyes narrowed. "I don't know. But there's only one way to find out."

Alphonse nodded. Armstrong looked at the two curiously, hearing the exchange.

The doctor returned and re-bandaged Edward's wound with a cooling salve and a pain reliever. Ed sighed in relief as the soothed his wounds somewhat. The doctor handed Armstrong a bottle of pills with strict instructions to give them to him every two hours until the fever breaks.

Before they left, Alphonse asked the man where Dr. Mauro used to live, and they were directed to a small house on the edge of town.

They stood on the stairs in front of the missing man's front door and Edward leaned heavily on Al's cool armor. He had insisted on coming, despite Alphonse's protest, and he refused to regret that decision now, even if his fever made him dizzy. They may very well have happened upon the dwelling place of the Crystal Alchemist, the man who had worked on the philosopher's stone and who had gone missing after the war. He didn't have time to be sick. Ed and Al nodded as one and Al pushed the door open. They stepped inside, Armstrong following behind closely.

It was empty, with no signs that anyone had lived there for a while. "So this is the house of the deserter Tim Marcoh," Armstrong said softly.

Ed didn't spare him a glance as he began to look around with interest from his place at Al's side. The house was one story, and small. Dust covered every surface and at first there were no obvious signs of a struggle. Edward took a few halting steps into the dark house on his prosthetic leg, completely ignoring the pain in his port to investigate. He walked to the dining room table and noted with interest that it was set as if someone had been eating. To the left was a dresser next to a hallway, which looked like it led to a bedroom. He started for it.

Alphonse walked into the middle of the living room, looking as well. He glanced back at Armstrong, who had not moved. "Did you know him?"

The large man shook his head. "Not personally. I only know that he was sent to assist us with the Ishvalan uprising. Rumor has it that he was so guilt ridden over what happened there that he deserted, taking with him a lot of confidential information."

"He was researching the philosopher's stone, right?"

"…Yes."

Alphonse nodded and walked towards a shelf on the far side of the room. He began to thumb through the books, looking for any clue as to whether this was really Dr. Marcoh's home. After a few minutes, he came across and recent looking picture. In it was an older man, his arms slung around two children, a boy and a girl. He had squinted eyes and black graying hair. He was smiling. Al held the picture up to Armstrong. "Is this him?"

Armstrong looked at it and nodded. "That's him, alright."

"Hey Al, I think I found something," Edward shouted from the other room. Alphonse stowed the photo in his armor and followed his brother into the adjacent bedroom. Ed was standing in the middle of what looked like a war zone. The room held a desk covered in scattered papers and a small bed with a lamp beside it. Papers and books were scattered around the floor as if they had been knocked off in a hurry. The bed bore a dark stain along the side, and on closer examination, there were deep gouges in the floor. Ed crouched down and brushed his hand over the holes. "These look familiar."

Al crouched down behind him. "You're right." Unpleasant images of a certain basement in Central flashed in his mind. They looked just like the gouges they saw behind Shou Tucker's body.

Edward nodded. "It looks like Alex's stalker has been here." Edward got up with an effort and rubbed his chin, his brow furrowed in thought. What interest would that woman have in Marcoh? Just what did she have to do with all of this? It seemed that no matter where they turned, she was somehow involved.

Finding nothing else of interest in the bedroom, the two boys rejoined Armstrong in the living room. "There has to be something here that can help us," Ed said, looking around. "Did you find any of his research?"

Al shook his head. "I did find this though. This is definitely Marcoh's house." He handed Edward the photograph. "Armstrong identified him." Edward felt a slight surge of excitement. It might be a long shot, but they might be able to find something here that would help them in their search with the philosopher's stone.

Edward examined the photo before handing it back with a nod. "Come on, let's take a closer look around. If he has any research here, we need to find it." Edward scanned the room carefully, looking for anything suspicious.

"What makes you think it's close by?" Armstrong asked, leaning against the wall.

Ed shook his head, running his hand along the bottom of a desk drawer looking for a hidden compartment. "I don't have any idea. My guess is that he's hidden it somewhere else, but we may be able to at least find a clue. He didn't want the military to have it obviously, so It's probably hidden and deeply encrypted somewhere." Ed stood up and rubbed his damp neck. His body ached…

"If that's the case, what makes you think you could find it?"

Ed smiled slightly. "Come on, major, give me some credit."

"Brother, I think I've found something," Al called from the other side of the room. He was crouching beside the wall and pointing at something on the floor. Ed limped over and knelt on his good knee. The dust was slightly disturbed there, as if…Ed brushed the dust aside and was gratified to see slight scuff marks on the floor.

"Good work, Al," he said. He ran his hand along the wall until he felt a slight catch in the smooth surface. With a click, as small door about the size of a cupboard swung open, the boys peered inside. "It's empty," Ed said, slightly disappointed.

"Not quite," Al said. He leaned forward and plucked a piece of paper off the bottom of the compartment. Ed leaned forward curiously as Al read it.

"What's it say."

"Central Library, 1st branch. It also says 'find the truth hidden within the truth'."

Armstrong came over to look as well. "What does it mean?"

Ed grabbed the paper and flipped it over. Nothing. "No idea. But we do know one thing: where the research is located." Ed smiled ferally, exposing his canines. "Let's go."

"Brother, I think you are forgetting something. We still need to get your automail repaired."

Ed grimaced. "Don't remind me." He stood up with effort, leaning against Alphonse for support. "The sooner the better. We need to meet up with Alex and get back to Central as soon as possible and follow up on this lead. Can we catch the next train?"

Armstrong consulted his watch. "I believe so," he looked up with a sparkle in his eye. "But we are going to have to run."

He began to stalk forward and Ed's eyes widened. He took a step back. "Oh, no, don't you DARE–oomph."

As if the teen weighed no more than a flower petal, Armstrong threw the shrieking blond over his broad shoulder like a pack of potatoes and began running out of the house. "Don't worry, young Elric! Alex Louise Armstrong will get you to the train station before the next train leaves, you can count on me!" He ran down the road with long prancing strides, causing Ed to bounce against his back absurdly.

"Major Armstrong, wait for me!"

"Aaaaagh, put me DOWN!"

o-0-o

In a decent sized home in the town of Resembool, a young woman hunched over a bench in a dark room. Her long blond hair was bound in a ponytail at the base of her neck and a handkerchief rested across her brow. She wore magnification goggles on her slim face, covering her blue eyes from view as she used a small wrench to piece together segments of metal on her desk, illuminated by a single lamp.

Winry Rockbell leaned back with a sigh as the two pieces finally came together. She wiped her forehead and set down her tools, feeling satisfied at a good day's work. The pieces of metal would soon be a functioning hand, given a few more hours, but her stomach was grumbling and she had been holed inside all day. She stood and groaned as her joints popped loudly in protest for long hours of sitting still.

As she left the room, she grabbed a small towel that was hanging beside the door. It was already filthy, but she used it anyway to remove the grease on her hands. It didn't help much, but the young woman's thoughts were elsewhere.

"That hand should be done in a few days…I should call the client…I wonder if there are any sandwiches in the fridge…"

She wandered into the kitchen, noting that the house was unusually quiet, absent of any mechanical noises. Pinako must have gone out, she mused. Otherwise she would hear the whirring of an electric drill at the very least.

The phone rang just as Winry was about to rummage the fridge for food. She sighed deeply, hoping that if it was a customer they could at least wait for the next day to have her start on something. Ever since the Elrics had left about two years ago, Winry had been training to take over Pinako's automail shop. She absolutely loved the work, and she was exceptional at it, but sometimes it could be demanding.

She picked up the phone, disregarding the grease stains on her hands. "Rockbell Automail. What can I do for you?"

A young man's voice sounded from the other end. "Excuse me," his voice was quiet and deep. Winry found it quite attractive. "Is this Pinako Rockbell?"

"No, my name is Winry Rockbell. Pinako has stepped out for a moment. Can I take a message?"

"Um," the young man coughed uncomfortably. "I'm afraid that it is rather important. I was told that Edward and Alphonse Elric were on their way to see a Mrs. Pinako to repair Edward's automail.

Winry tilted her head a bit. Edward needed repairs? Just what had he been getting up to lately? She supposed it had been a while since he had been fitted. She hoped it wasn't serious. "May I ask who you are?"

"My name is Russel Tringham. Are Ed and Al in Resembool yet?"

Winry blinked in surprise. "No, I didn't even have any idea they were coming. I haven't seen those three in over a year." And last time she had seen them, Alex had been in a coma and Ed hadn't told her why. Good times. "Wait, isn't Alex with them?"

"No, he's in Dublith with me and my brother. He said he came to see his master. I'm afraid I don't know much more than that." He sounded unsure, and worried about something. Winry got the distinct impression that he was holding something back.

"Oh, I see. Well, if Ed and Al are coming, I can give them a message for you," Winry said reassuringly.

"I'm not really sure…It's about Alex."

A niggling of worry made itself known to Winry and she frowned at his grave tone. "Did something happen? Is he okay?"

"Do you know the Elrics well?"

"Yeah, they're like family to me."

"Well, I suppose you can take a message for me, then. Something strange happened to Alex last night. He got separated from us and we found him an hour later in the snow…covered in blood."

Hey guys! Exams are over! Yay!

Ed and Al found Marcoh's note! I have to confess, I've had this chapter written for a couple of days. But I didn't post it for a very important reason. It was practically a rewrite of episode six, and that just didn't sit well with me. It was boring to write and I'm sure it would have been even more boring to read, so…I rewrote it! Yup, Marcoh is already missing, but he managed to give Ed the same note he gave him last time. Is he alive? Is he dead? Who knows! Certainly not me. All we know is that Lust was involved. Heh heh, she is turning out to be a fabulous mastermind.

Tsss ouch, Ed's leg injury sounds bad. Yeah, Scar left him pretty banged up. Poor Ed. But it was a great excuse for him to find a doctor, and the rest was pretty easy to write. And Winry is back! Yay!

Next chapter: Winry gets her wrench ready. Something is going down with those brothers and she does NOT like it.

Thanks for sending your love!