The room was utterly silent as the clock ticked on. The sun had long fallen under the horizon, and the room was lit by the harsh white light of academia from the slowly turning fan overhead. The spinning blades were on low, so as not to disturb the many pages littering the large table at which the two brothers sat. The once neat piles of books, meticulously organized by subject at the first, were now strewn over the dark wooden surface haphazardly, each book either thrown open to a relevant page or on the floor, discarded. Interspersed between the materials were hastily scrawled and messy notes, the words and symbols hardly discernible to those who did not know the young man's particular hand.

Neither boy had looked up from their positions for hours, devouring knowledge and referencing obscure facts faster than any two beings should be able. Yet their determination was what drove them to ignore all else in their frantic search. They finally had the lead they needed, and there was little that could distract them now.

Eventually though, Alphonse had to stop with a sigh. He placed the book he was currently perusing on the floor next to his foot where his other rejects lay, and looked over the room. It was a mess, and he began absently gathering his own scrawled notes into a neat pile. He had not been able to find much. The library's resources were frustratingly slim in the way of information about the red stone. He couldn't say if it was because it was a crime to make them and the information had been removed, or that it was being covered up for some other purpose. Whatever the reason, Alphonse was having a particularly hard time tracking down any real facts that they did not already know. He was beginning to believe that the search in the library on this subject would be futile.

Furious scribbling across the room caught his attention, and the suit of armor noticed with some amusement that Edward had not stayed at the large table. Instead, he had left a path of destruction and discarded papers all the way to the couch, which he now sat on. Marcoh's notes lay haphazardly on the small table before him. Books littered the seats beside him, all on the subjects of code breaking, no doubt, and he scribbled rapidly in his journal, one of many others that could be seen filled to the brim around the room. Edward's golden eyes were intense with focus, and even though they looked achingly dry, he did not blink. His entire body was tensed with his concentration, and every once in a while he would mumble inaudibly to himself, and scratch out a particular line or other. It was not unlike the time the two had studied for the alchemy exam, nearly two years ago.

And just like that time, it was up to Alphonse to break his brother out of his knowledge hungry daze and make sure he ate. Otherwise, he thought, the fool would pass out before he rested. It had happened before. Silently, so as not to disturb his intense sibling, Alphonse eased to his feet and walked to the door. It would be another few hours before Edward finally wore himself out enough to sleep, so the boy resolved to at least feed him something.

With a soft tap, the alchemist pushed the door open and stepped out. Ross and Brosh were still there, much to his surprise, and he was greeted tersely by the former.

"Don't you two have releifs," he asked with slight concern. After all, they would be there all night at least, and possibly even all of the next day before Edward finally admitted he needed a shower and proper bedrest. Belatedly, he wondered where his other brother had gotten off too. Feeling a tad guilty, he realized he hadn't noticed when he other boy left.

Ross shook her head, looking embarrassed for the oversight. "We expected you to return to the barracks for the night. I see now that we should have arranged a second shift."

"Ah," Al said, feeling vaguely bad for their unpredictable natures. It would have made sense to assume they would retire at the base at some point.

"Not to worry, sir, we will have proper coverage by the morning. Especially if you two insist on staying at the library for several more days."

"That's good. You shouldn't push yourselves so hard." Beside him, Brosh just groaned. A quick glare from Ross showed that the officer would have given up long ago if it wasn't for the strict and stubborn nature of his partner. Ignoring this, Alphonse bowed in quick apology. "Sorry for the trouble."

He began to walk down the hall when Ross's concerned voice stopped him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to see if I can get brother some food. He hasn't eaten in half a day and he will insist on staying up all night." Al continued to walk as he talked, and he only heard an irritated huff of breath before a hand firmly placed on his shoulder plate pulled him to a halt gently. He turned to regard the frowning woman, somewhat bemused.

"I will go. It's not safe for you to wander the streets at night." With that, the serious lieutenant sent a stern look over her shoulder at her wilted partner. He nodded, waving her off, and she swiftly disappeared around the corner.

Feeling as though he had been reprimanded, Alphonse slowly walked back to the room. Before he went inside, he paused by Brosh's side. "Um, did I do something to offend her? She seemed angry."

Brosh shook his head, rubbing at his eyes tiredly and causing another stab of guilt to course through the boy. "No, she's just a bit miffed that young Alex told her he wasn't her concern." He smiled ruefully. "She takes her duty very seriously and has a protective streak a mile wide. Just humor her."

Nodding, but deciding to think that over very carefully, Alphonse pushed back into the study room and closed the door quietly behind him. Edward was just where he left him, hunched over the coffee table like a gargoyle. Trusting that Ross would return with food soon, the boy wandered over to his seat and leaned back into it.

He looked out the window into the dark night, feeling a bit annoyed that Alex had wandered off again without telling them. Or maybe he had, and the two were to absorbed to pay attention. It wasn't unheard of. Still, a spike of worry coursed through him at the thought of Alex being alone out there. Again. He would be having stern words with the young man when he returned. At the very least he needed some guards to watch his back.

Alphonse allowed his mind to drift, feeling inclined to take a break from his many hours of fruitless studying. In his wonderings, his thoughts unconsciously turned back to Resembool, and some fond memories of the place. In his travels over the years, he hadn't quite realized just how much he had missed his hometown until he had stepped foot into it again. And Winry, his dearest childhood friend, was becoming more beautiful by the day. He had seen the way Edward was looking at her, and wondered absent mindedly if she still harbored the feelings against dating someone shorter than her. Al chuckled lightly to himself. That would surely break Edward's heart all over again if she still did. After all, he had hardly grown a few inches, as opposed to Alex who seemed to grown taller by the day.

Alphonse wondered a bit at why that might be. Was Ed's growth stunted by the automail? That alone was a sad thought, and the boy hoped that wasn't the case. It could be that Edward just took more after their mother than Hohenheim, with her more delicate frame. Did that mean that Alphonse took more after their father?

In another thought process entirely, Alphonse tried to visualize the image of himself, which was still his body at age ten. He had long since stopped imagining Alex as his body. The resemblance was getting farther and farther in his mind as Alex grew up and became his own person while Alphonse was locked in time. Both of them were leaving him behind, Al reflected in a wave of depression. He had felt it most acutely when Alex came back from his trip, and had spoken in a deep voice that almost sounded alien to Alphonse's ears. He was beginning to sound more like Edward, only with a softer cadence like Alphonse himself. Just when had the boy's voice deepened and changed, and just when did his shoulders broaden and his legs lengthen, standing solidly at Alphonse's chest plate? Edward had changed too, his round boyish face becoming lean, his fine cheekbones prominent, and his chest beginning to fill out the black shirts he so loved to wear. Alphonse could even see the faint beginnings of facial hair on the boy's cheeks, fine blond like the hair on the rest of him. He would have to begin shaving soon…

Alphonse violently tried to dislodge the depressing thoughts his mind was turning to in the silence, but he could not dissuade the jealousy he was feeling, unbidden. It wasn't fair. He should be growing alongside them, not trapped in time like he was. It was times like these when he thought, really considered–

It's times like these when he feels like he's not even real.

The thought idled through him like a poison as something he had never allowed himself to consider became a fully formed concept in his mind. He thought back to just recently in Resembool, when he saw a young woman who was supposedly his friend. He could not remember her at all, no matter how hard he tried. What about the others? Surely he had had many friends growing up. Resembool may have been widespread, but there were plenty of children to play with. He tried to remember, to pull up anything, but it seemed as if he could only see vague images, Edward and Winry the only two who stood out clearly. It was almost as if–

It was almost as if his memories before his transference were fake.

No, that couldn't be true. His memories of Edward and Winry were so clear, even though everyone else was blurry. And Pinako!

What if Winry and Pinako are in on it too?

That's–that's–in on what exactly? That Edward had created him? That there was never an Alphonse Elric? That was…absurd. Alphonse shook his head, his helmet clanking loudly, but it could not drown out the insistent whispers in his mind. What if Alphonse Elric was never real? What if Alex was Ed's real brother and you're just a fake? Where were these poisonous thoughts coming from?

Completely oblivious to the inner struggles of his youngest brother, Edward leaned back with a groan and closed his stinging eyes for a moment. Instantly, his moister deprived orbs began to water and burn, causing him to grimace. Dramatically, he cracked his neck, then his flesh fingers in sharp snaps, then shook them loose. "Ugh, I'm not getting anywhere with this. That Marcoh knew his stuff. Hey, Al–"

Edward cut himself off as he looked around the room and spotted his younger brother staring out of the window, completely still and not responding to his voice at all. "Al? Are you alright?" Slowly, the suit of armor turned his head to regard him, and Edward felt a thrill of worry, not able to sense what mood his younger brother was in at all. He seemed…off. "Al…?"

Eventually, the youngest Elric spoke, his voice sounding uncharacteristically dull. "Ed, did I have any friends?"

Edward's eyebrows drew together in concern, taken aback by the question. Carefully he smiled, not sure he liked where this was going. "Of course you had friends."

"Then why can't I remember them?" Before Edward could do more than make a shocked expression, Al looked back out the window. "There was a girl in Resembool who Winry said I used to be friends with, but I didn't remember her at all. I try to remember, but it's hazy. I think… I think there's something wrong with me."

Old guilt, and a sudden panic seized the blond for a moment, and he had to force his racing heart to slow down. He held his smile with some effort. "Al, you know how memories work. You've had a lot of new experiences, and things just pile up. It's natural for memories to fade over time."

Alphonse just shook his head, refusing to look Edward in the eye. The older boy slumped, guilt and sympathetic pain filling him at his brother's forlorn visage. He dropped his head in shame. "Hey Al?" He heard Al's armor clank, but did not dare look up. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you for a long time but…"

"What is it?"

"Dammit, it's just, I'm scared of what your reaction would be…"

"Tell me."

Edward grit his teeth, taking a calming breath. "You see, I–"

A loud bang shattered the quiet as the door swung open loudly, startling them both. Alex, who Ed had only just realized was missing, strode into the room dragging a flustered Ross by her sleeve. With a broad grin, the boy shouted, "Hello brothers mine, I come bearing gifts!" His cheeks were flushed, and his words slightly slurred, a detail Edward zeroed in on immediately. He looked around blearily. "Wow, guys, you made a mess~ I never knew studying could be so violent!"

"What the hell!? Alex, are you drunk!?" Ed immediately shot to his feet in outrage, pointing an accusing finger at the clearly inebriated boy.

"Hhhow rude," Alex said, leaning forward, his eyes half mast and cheeks reddened. "I'll have you know that I have excshellent tolerance for someone my age!"

Ross made an affronted face behind him, snatching back her sleeve which she had been wholly unable to do earlier. Alex was surprisingly strong. "You've been drinking?! You're only thirteen!" Disapproval and righteous indigence verily dripped from her voice. Brosh leaned into the room, wondering what the fuss was about.

"Fourteen," Alex said to the world at large. "We decshided!"

Completely ignoring the strange look he got from Ross at that slip, Alex snatched the small package from her hand and held it out to Edward triumphantly. "Sandwiches for us all! Eat, it's been, like, forever!"

Edward snatched the package away and threw it to the table, refusing to be sidetracked. "Who the hell allowed you to drink!? I swear, once I get my hands on whatever fool bartender thought it was a good idea to let you near alcohol–"

He was cut off by Alex's uncontrolled giggling. "Heh, Roy, a bartender? Roy the bartender! Serving boy Roy, ahaha!"

Edward saw red. "Roy, as in Roy fucking Mustang!? I swear the next time I get my hands on that bastard…!"

With a sigh, Alphonse stood up and ushered a very confused looking Ross out the door. But not before Ross got an earful of Alex whining "No, don't hurt Roy! He's the only one who treats me like a woman~"

Edward's angry exclamation was cut off with the sharp snap of the door closing. Al put his forefinger and thumb to the ridge between his eyes, as if pinching his nose, and groaned.

"Wha– Mustang? Did he just say–" Ross was blushing a charming red, her mouth agape, staring wide eyed at the now closed door where the two voices could just barely muffle through. Brosh was covering his eyes, his ears flushed, and trying his best to unhear what he thought he just heard.

"Um, no, it's not what you think," Al tried to placate, waving his hands before his chest. But even he was coming up blank for a plausible explanation. He had suspected that Mustang knew Alex's story, but how was he supposed to explain what Alex meant to two clueless people? "Alex just, um, gets that way when he's drunk."

Avoiding Ross's disbelieving gaze, Alphonse ducked back into the room, just barely dodging a thrown book. Alex was laughing and jumping around the room like a monkey and Edward was chasing after him, throwing whatever he could get his hands on and huffing like an enraged bull.

Leave it to Alex to destroy the drama. Shaking his head in disbelief, Al first snagged one boy by the collar, then the other before shaking them both. "Brother, eat your sandwich," he commanded, dropping his older brother on the couch unceremoniously. Ed landed with a grunt and a comically surprised expression. "Alex, sober up!" He dragged the other boy to the other side of the room and dropped him in a heap in the corner. Alex just fell limply.

Alphonse strode to the middle of the room and crossed his arms, standing menacingly between them, incensed that Alex had come back–drunk!– and interrupted them. And maybe even a bit…relieved that he had.

Grumbling, and seeing that Al wouldn't budge, the two boys settled into their appointed tasks, glaring at each other past their large brother when they thought he wasn't paying attention.

ox0xo

The next morning, when Edward woke promptly at dawn, I was immediately thrown out of the study room when I opened my mouth to whine that I was bored. He…wasn't amused, to say the least. Probably still angry about last night. I hadn't realized I had imbibed so much. Belatedly, I remembered that wine in particular worked slowly, and lasted longer than other alcohols, at least for me. I blushed, slightly embarrassed to remember my behavior, but shrugged it off soon after. I had done worse while drunk.

I huffed, massaging my rear end on the floor where Edward had thrown me. A very tired Ross and Brosh greeted me, the former helping me to my feet and transferring a liberal dose of annoyance. "Serves you right," the woman said, pulling me roughly to my feet. "With all that fuss you made last night, I'm surprised they didn't kick you out sooner." She was blushing lightly, and I was reminded of some of the absurd things I said in her presence. Oops. I hoped they wouldn't start any weird rumors about me and Mustang. I didn't think the older man would appreciate it.

"Um, yeah, about that…" She held a hand in my face, stopping my words.

"I don't want to know."

I grinned suddenly, emboldened by her response. "Really, because it's quite the tale–" Behind me, Brosh grimaced and I had to laugh at his beset upon expression.

All of us turned as three serious looking men in uniform walked around the corner. Brosh sighed in relief and gave them a friendly wave. His greeting was returned, somewhat more subdued. They stopped in front of us and saluted Ross. "Sir, we are your relief for the next six hours."

Ross acknowledged the salute with one of her own and drooped tiredly. "Thank goodness," she moaned with a relieved smile. Her expression became serious. "You," she pointed to one of the men, blond and heavyset, and gestured to me. "Watch this one. He tends to slip off." Ignoring my indignant squawk–Ross clearly believed that I was her problem, despite my words prior– she and Brosh stumbled down the hall, exhausted.

Grumbling to myself, but gesturing to the stern faced man anyway, I walked down the hall, shadow in tow and the other two standing diligently at the door behind which my brothers would study the day away.

I smiled to myself, suddenly amused, and picked up my step. I had a phone call to make. I had promised, after all.

ox0xo

Aforementioned Roy Mustang stood in his backyard, shivering in the cold in annoyance, wondering how exactly, in a hung over state and on his day off, was he stuck with a bouncing teenager in his face, demanding he train him, and a taciturn guard standing long sufferingly to the side. Roy exchanged an annoyed glance with the man, as if Alex's intrusion was his fault. The man saluted sharply, then gestured helplessly before standing guard.

At least the annoying boy had called this time. Although how he had gotten Roy's personal phone number was beyond him. That was classified, dammit! He was not expecting the kid (not really a kid, he reminded himself, but a meddlesome woman, even worse) to call so damn soon. And how exactly was Alex demanding Roy give his day off up to show him some tricks more polite than just showing up unannounced, anyway? He was really beginning to regret the promise to help the boy he had made a week prior, he thought as he glared at the barely risen sun. At least he hadn't been half naked this time. That would have really given Alex's shadow something to gossip about at the barracks.

"Aw, come on, Roy! You promised," Alex wheedled, giving his best puppy dog eyes.

Roy grimaced. And just when had he given the brat permission to use his first name? Last night he hadn't really noticed, but…Alex's eyes started to glisten, and dammit all if it wasn't just as effective if he had been a woman. "Alright, alright, I did promise. I'll train you, brat, but don't make a habit of showing up so damn early in the morning or I swear…"

The boy's face lit up like it was his birthday come early and Roy exhaled with exaggerated slowness. He rustled the blond's hair violently, shaking it loose from its tie, and ignored his startled yelp. Waiting until the kid was properly disheveled, Roy pulled back his hand, satisfied at Alex's angrily flushed cheeks.

Ever so delicately, the vain man began to pull on his gloves, tugging it down finger by finger until both transmutation circles stood out starkly and without wrinkles on the back of his fists. Making sure he had a, albeit grumbling, rapt audience, he casually snapped the fingers of his right hand and conjured a small flame. Roy held it for several seconds, almost to the point where his body began to feel the strain, then allowed it to grow bright and white hot, until it flashed almost blindingly above their heads. Alex threw an arm over his eyes at the last second, feeling the intense wave of heat assault his body, before looking back out with wide eyes.

Gratified at his response, Mustang preened inwardly. But his expression became serious. "Pay attention, because I'll only tell you this once. Flame Alchemy, although one of the most powerful arts out there, is very volatile and dangerous. It takes a vast amount of concentration and precision to be able to control the oxygen in the air in order to direct the flame, and if that concentration wavers for even an instant," he paused for effect, "it could grow out of control and destroy everything around me."

Alex was watching with wide red-violet eyes, still stunned by the casual display of power, no doubt. "The reason it is so difficult is because I have to hold it back. Your strength seems much the same way."

The boy's expression became grim, and Mustang knew he was probably remembering the few times he had lost control. That's right, he thought, remember it. Sometimes your worst memories were the greatest motivators.

"It's not going to be easy, but I will teach you precision. I will knock out the usual tendency of hand to hand combat to use brute force. You no longer have that option. What you need is control."

Mustang braced himself for the usual innuendo from the cheeky teen, but Alex surprised him. Placing his upright palm over his enclosed left fist in a gesture the colonel did not recognize, the youth bowed deeply and respectfully, not breaking eye contact through his blond lashes. "Please teach me…Master."

Roy Mustang stood in stunned silence for several long seconds. Did he really just–And so seriously! Before the colonel could get himself properly worked up, ego stoked greatly, the impertinent kid smirked, breaking his serious mask.

"You brat…!" Roy mushed his hand into Alex's face, knocking the giggling kid on his ass, before snapping some nonexistent lint of his shirt. "Just for that, I'm not letting you go until you can't walk straight." With a glint in his black eyes, Roy watched as his blatant innuendo caused Alex to blush, then snapped, "Get up. We've got work to do." If Alex thought he could get one up on the 'master', no pun intended, then he had another thing coming. He watched as his young friend and charge got to his feet and began to show him why he was one of the most feared alchemists in the country.

Alex trained, Mustang graciously sacrificing his afternoons (not that he seemed to mind the escape from paperwork) and providing Alex with techniques he could use to control his new strength. Alphonse and Edward continued to research frantically, Al joining his brother when his search on the red stone turned up frustratingly fruitless. Eight days passed by in a blur. And then…Edward cracked the code.

Dundunduuuuun. Next there will be much angst. Yay! Alphonse is finally starting to have some doubts. Oh my. And Roy's and Alex's friendship grows with a healthy dose of respect.

Haha, I laughed out loud as I was writing the drunk scene. Looks like his talk with Mustang cheered him up considerably, making him act a bit silly.

Next Chapter: the boys despair. Have they chosen the wrong path!?

Thanks, bye!