Chapter 6: Missing in Action

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Nearly two days passed, and neither Damien nor anyone else, for that matter, came to see the two alchemists. It took a significant amount of time for Mustang's clothes to dry, and eventually, they did, but the chill that had already seeped into Mustang remained. He could only barely feel his fingers, which he tried to wriggle every so often to help with blood flow. Edward found himself glancing toward the older alchemist often, thankful for the dark, so his worry was not evident. The only indication that a significant amount of time had passed was the growing thirst and hunger they felt since the lack of visitors also meant that they were given neither food nor water.

At some point, Edward had asked about the second man's words concerning Ishval and the shooting of the little girl. Edward hoped talking would help distract Mustang from the cold. Mustang, although reluctant, told the story about the start of the war, his role in it, and the reasoning behind his desire to reach the top of the military. Edward hardly commented but merely grew thoughtful, and Mustang was grateful for the reprieve from speaking.

As time wore on, they became more silent. They had a few sporadic conversations to pass the time, but their growing thirst quelled further talk.

Both felt the insides of their mouths becoming drier with the passing of time. Despite the lack of activity, the cold, dry air wicked away moisture, which also contributed to raw throats and their now chapped lips. Hunger pangs came and went. Eventually, Mustang grew used to the sensation but knew the hunger would return and only grow stronger as time passed. Edward's hunger pangs, however, never left, and his stomach felt like it was eating itself.

As for hydration, Mustang was well aware that merely breathing was part of the dehydration process. Having fought in Ishval, he was trained to know all the causes and symptoms of dehydration, and Mustang could identify the beginning stages setting in.

Typically, one could go without water for three to four days, depending on the circumstances. Although, in Ishval, due to the heat, dehydration set in much more quickly. In the cool dark cell, their lack of activity due to continually sitting was in their favor, as well as the cooler temperatures, which reduced loss from sweat. However, they still risked dehydration and starvation if the rebels left them there.

Mustang tried to recall all the symptoms and stages of dehydration.

Early stages include dry mouth, lethargy, dizziness, headache, and muscle fatigue.

Later and more severe symptoms include lack of sweating, dry skin, low blood pressure, increased heart rate, fever, delirium, sunken eyes, and even loss of consciousness. We probably won't experience all of them due to the cold, like sweating, but…,

Dry mouth? Check.

Lethargy and dizziness? Only some, but check.

I don't think I'm experiencing any other symptoms, I don't really have a headache or muscle fatigue, but that one will be hard to determine sitting here like this.

Edward, Mustang glanced in the boy's direction despite the dark. If I remember correctly, kids and older adults are more susceptible to dehydration.

Mustang felt a spike of apprehension at his next thought,

How does Edward's automail impact his hydration? Does it put a greater burden on his body and require more water? The automail already would reduce the liquids in his body because of the two metal limbs. The kid eats like he has a bottomless pit for a stomach. He must be hungry, but hydration is my primary concern. I wonder if I should be just as worried about food when it comes to Edward.

Judging just by my state, if they don't give us something to drink soon, the next two days or so won't be pretty, but I should be fine on food for a bit. Not comfortable, but fine.

As Mustang contemplated the potential issues surrounding their lack of water, Edward was staring ahead. When he moved his head, the room seemed to spin. The fact that Edward could not see anything only made the sensation more confusing and disorienting.

All of Edward's muscles felt heavy, like he had run a marathon, and he thought that even if he was released from the chains, he would not be able to move regardless. He was finding it hard to focus and found himself often thinking of nothing for long periods of time. Edward licked his lips another time, but his mouth was dry, and the slightest tinge of copper met his tongue from his cracked lips.

Suddenly, light spilled into their room from the open door. Damien walked in with a single glass of water. Edward merely gave him a lazy roll of the head, and Mustang braced himself for whatever Damien had planned.

Angering them now might be a death sentence. Mustang narrowed his eyes.

Mustang looked over at Edward and felt the blood drain from his face. Edward was slumped over, arms straining against the cuffs that held him. Dark circles ringed the undersides of his eyes, and his breathing looked labored. His face was pale, but a slight flush spread across his cheeks.

Dammit! When was the last time he had anything to drink? Probably just before we stopped to make camp, and it's definitely been about two days. Crap! Kids dehydrate faster than adults! Crap!

Mustang's eyes met Damien's, who stood watching them, his gaze particularly drawn to Edward.

Making his decision while eyeing the water, Mustang rasped, "if you plan on keeping us alive, people can die after three days without water, but kids dehydrate faster." Mustang nodded his head toward Edward, who merely kept looking straight ahead as he tried to process the conversation happening around him.

Edward blinked rapidly. The light coming from the door hurt his head and made his headache even worse. He blinked again in an attempt to make the room stand still.

Damien merely met Mustang's gaze, indifferent to the words spoken, and then, stooping by Edward, lifted the glass to his lips. It took Edward a moment to realize that Damien was there and giving him water, but when Damien's actions registered, he leaned forward. Edward took long gulps, but Damien took the water away far too quickly for the young alchemist, and Edward leaned forward further, trying to follow the glass to drink more.

Mustang watched with growing apprehension, "What are you…? He needs more!"

Damien cut Mustang off, "If you want water at all after this, then do not question me."

Edward sighed, slumping back against the wall in resignation at Damien's words.

At least it was a little bit, Edward was glad for the water, and the spinning of the room had slowed, but his headache and the hunger remained.

Damien then moved over to Mustang and held the glass up to him. Smirking, he said, "You should drink too. Remember not to question me if you want the kid to survive."

Edward hardly heard Damien's words, but he saw Mustang tense from the corner of his eye. Grimacing, Mustang leaned forward and accepted the drink. The water did wonders to alleviate his parched throat, but it was hardly enough. Once the glass was empty, Damien stood up.

"You mentioned that people can die after three days without water. Well, they can last much longer without food. You'll get water every two days, but don't expect food for a while."

Really? Damien's comment pulled Edward from his blank mind.

"It's only been two days?" Edward's voice startled both men, his voice low and quiet.

Damien did not react to the question but merely stated calmly with a small shrug, "Technically, it's been almost three days since you were brought here." Damien looked them both over, "It's only been two since the last time we came in to see you. We've been busy. I'll be back in two days."

With that, Damien turned and walked out of the room.

Once again, they were left in the dark, and Edward whispered, "We need to get out of here."

Mustang tried to be reassuring.

"Remember, the late report will alert the military that something is wrong. We hiked for two days, and they caught us on the evening of the second. Like I said before, I gave us four to get to Yoxeqa. If we've been here almost three days, we were supposed to give the report yesterday, and that's at the latest. So, the report is now late. Since Hawkeye knows that even the fourth day of our hike was only a buffer, she should report us missing today."

Edward merely grunted tiredly, "They have no idea where we are. We still need to escape."

I'm hungry, and…, Edward's mind blanked for a second, …and I need food.

Mustang looked toward where he knew Edward was sitting. He thought back on Edward's appearance and reconsidered his appraisal of the teen just a few days before. He still thought that Edward would be fine mentally, at the very least, but now, he wasn't so sure whether Edward would be okay physically.

Mustang looked forward into the darkness, "Yes. Yes, we do."

And I hope we'll be able to pull it off.

At the same time, back at East Command, Hawkeye held the phone to her ear. The voice from the other side of the line was placating but indifferent.

"I know their report is late, First Lieutenant Hawkeye. However, there is nothing we can do. It's only been about 24 hours since they should have arrived and given their report. They are on a reconnaissance mission. It is possible they were delayed or cannot report due to circumstances regarding the mission. They should be in the Yoxeqa area, and according to their report from Egmuridcu, the rebels seem to be in the area. They may be being cautious. We have no reason as of yet to suspect that the rebels know they are there."

The voice continued and Hawkeye continued to listen silently, but with growing concern. "If we do not hear from them by the time their mission is supposed to end, then we will be worried. However, the second group will set out tomorrow toward Ebacofum, which as you know is north of Yoxeqa. They will travel south and hopefully make contact. If Flame and Fullmetal are in trouble but can leave, they will return immediately. If not, reinforcements will be sent out. It is imperative that we gather as much information as possible before attacking the group. We cannot afford bloodshed there."

The conversation cut off, leaving Hawkeye looking at the phone as the dial tone sounded and leaving the rest of the team hoping that they did not make any major mistakes that day. Judging by the way Hawkeye slowly and deliberately set the phone in its cradle, any action out of line would be disastrous and potentially deadly for all those involved.

General Raven set the phone down and tapped his finger on the desk. The Fuhrer stared down at him. He had remained in Northern Command since the capture of the supplier under the guise of a rare visit to the north to check on new recruits.

"Their identities may have been compromised in Aszamen due to the supplier." Raven rubbed the side of his temple. The mission was supposed to be simple, but due to the disappearance of the two alchemists, it seemed to Raven that the supplier had somehow guessed the their identities. Raven knew the Fuhrer knew something more, but he was wise enough not to question his leader.

Bradly merely remained stiff, eyes narrowed into slits, and commented on the supplier.

"That man was good. I just wish he were in our pocket. He would be a valuable asset considering his skill at hiding in plain sight and his astounding resistance to interrogation as well as other means of extracting information. Unfortunately, he was spoilt in the process. We would not have been able to trust him anyway."

Raven merely nodded at the homunculus's words as the Fuhrer continued.

"I have recently been informed that our new Sewing Life Alchemist was in Azamem at the time and met with the supplier. It may have been he who identified our alchemists to him. Hopefully, Sewing Life was unaware of the supplier's connections. After reading the report, it seems Flame and Fullmetal are completely unaware of Sewing Life's involvement and could not have known."

Bradley continued, "Well, they should be able to handle any situation that comes their way, as they both fit into our future plans. I won't do anything about the Sewing Life, but we should retrieve our other two pawns. I will take care of it."

Raven merely nodded, happy that the Fuhrer would take care of what could potentially be a career-ending move if the rescue of the Flame and Fullmetal alchemists went badly. Raven looked forward to the day he would not need to worry about death any longer, and so, he never wanted to be on Fuhrer Bradley's bad side.

The Fuhrer left the room, and after a short walk entered the chambers for his personal use while in the North. A lanky man sat on top of his desk, one foot propped on the edge and the other hanging down.

Bradley's wrath was a writhing, seething undercurrent, and when he spoke, the air trembled in his rage.

"Envy! The idea behind Flame and Fullmetal's mission was to kill two birds with one stone. The first, to keep Mustang out of the way so that Sewing Life could conduct his alchemy exam without any prying. The second was to find out more about this group without sending a large group. We could not have easily sent Mustang with anyone besides Fullmetal in such a small group as some of our lower-ranking officers could have potentially headed the mission. The best way to get Mustang, with his rank, out of the way and keep the group small with the least suspicion was to send Fullmetal with him.

"Now, do tell me, why was Tucker, the very person we did not want Mustang crossing paths with, in the very city where their mission was to start? Now, we have two missing alchemists, one of them a confirmed sacrifice and the other a potential sacrifice. If either is lost, you will answer to Father!"

Wrath's aura darkened considerably, "We cannot afford to have major bloodshed there because it could throw off the circle. It's not a point for a crest of blood on the map."

Envy jumped to a stand, hands up in a placating fashion, "Hey, hey! I didn't mean for them to cross paths! Tucker's no longer thinking of pursuing chimera reversal, now isn't he?! And now the hubbub could help push the investigation that's beginning about his missing wife to the way-side. So, it's actually working out well on the Tucker front! Now, all we have to do is get the two idiots back! It's just a small rebel group! It won't be a problem!"

Bradley smiled sinisterly, his voice remaining cold. "No. It will not be a problem because you will help retrieve them! You will go as an officer in the next group shipping out to find information about the rebels, and you will cooperate and follow orders since you are going as a grunt."

Many hours after Damien's visit, the square-ish man entered the cell once more, and the lights flickered on. He still had the gun, but he seemed more confident than he had the last time he entered their cell. Mustang eyed him suspiciously. Even if he appeared more confident, Mustang did not trust the man's temper to remain collected.

Upon noticing the man, Edward rasped, "Come to make sure we don't die of dehydration?"

Edward felt as though the room was spinning again, and the nausea was becoming a nuisance. I've hardly eaten. How come I feel like puking my guts out?

"You had water yesterday. You won't get any more, not until tomorrow."

Both Mustang and Edward inwardly sighed. The time since Damien's last visit felt like an eternity, not like only one day had passed.

Dammit, it's only been one day. That little bit of water did almost nothing to help. Mustang tried to keep his breathing even.

Edward huffed, "You know our names. So, what's your name?" Maybe I'll… be able to convince him to give us water… if I ask his name.

Edward's outwardly contrite demeanor threw Mustang off, but Mustang still worried that the man would take the question poorly, so Mustang tried shushing him between clenched teeth.

To both of their surprise, the man answered. Although Damien's willingness to answer had come as a surprise, it was even more surprising that the man answered.

"Casper. My name is Casper."

Maybe he is in more control now. Mustang could only hope.

He answered quickly! Edward grinned, happy that he was able to extract some information.

Edward began again, but Mustang cut him off, asking casually, "What do you want from us?"

Edward glared at Mustang, but his tired eyes and pale face made the threat fall flat. Mustang merely gave Edward a sideways look and then turned his attention back to the man.

I have to keep him engaged, or the brat will keep talking, damn him. Does he know how to sit still? There's no telling what will set this guy, Casper, off or if what we do here will make Damien reconsider our water. Especially since Damien came in after the first time we angered this lug.

Edward merely cast a glance at Mustang. He was well aware that he should not engage, but asking for Damien's name had worked out in the end. So, he did not see the problem.

The Bastard doesn't trust me! I just want some conversation here and more water.

Edward was antsy, despite the lethargy. He had been sitting still for far too long, and all the while, all he could think about were the wasted days. All he wanted to know was how long they would be there, but it seemed to him that Mustang was also going to ask questions along those lines.

Casper gave Mustang an incredulous glare. Surprise flickering across his features, and both alchemists quickly realized that question was the wrong question to ask.

"Me? What do I want?"

Casper's voice was thin a brittle, like a string about to snap.

Mustang remained quiet and looked over at Edward. Edward returned the gaze, and Mustang subtly shook his head, which made Edward grimace. The tacit and unspoken agreement not to say anything more was clearly conveyed.

In truth, Casper was so high-strung that anything they said would have caused his anger to begin building. Even silence, for that matter, would have annoyed him. He wanted the two groveling and begging for forgiveness, and silence would have been too much like ignoring him, like ignoring their complicity in the military's corruption.

"I want the military to cease existing. I want recompense for Simon and all the atrocities at Ishval!"

Lack of water and food muddled Mustang's thoughts, hindering his reasoning. Is this man an idiot? Does he think that this will change anything? He's complaining about atrocities but is willing to starve a kid!"

Despite knowing that he should not provoke the man, the very warning he gave Edward, the question slipped from Mustang's lips.

"Well, I don't know what happened to Simon, and I'm sorry. But, do you really think that acting on a vendetta will work? It will only cause more pain and violence."

Rage plastered itself across Casper's face, and tears stung his eyes. Casper stood in front of Mustang, looking at the ragged man slowly losing to his thirst. Despite his muddled condition, Mustang was still outwardly calm. The mere sight of Mustang, still clam, infuriated Casper and all he could see were those piercing dark eyes, like knives, judging him. Yet all Casper could do was think of Simon.

Casper surged forward. Mustang, tired from lack of food and water, did not react in time. Casper was on his knees, leaning forward and gripping Mustang's shirt. He shook Mustang, whose head spun with the rough movement. Mustang clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut against the whirling room.

Casper shouted, and the noise was like a jackhammer to the two alchemists.

"You were a part of that abominable war! Do you even know who Simon was?!" Casper's face puffed in anger, "he was my son! I want recompense for my son! He opposed the occupation of Ishval, but they claimed he shot that little Ishvalan girl, starting the war, and court-martialed him. My son was betrayed by and killed by the military!" Casper sobbed.

At Casper's words, the blood drained from Mustang's face, and Edward's head swiveled back and forth between the two men. All thoughts of their condition forgotten at Casper's words.

Edward's eyes grew wide as he stared at Casper, "you mean…?"

The irate man turned on Edward, drawing away from Mustang. "Yes, you miserable lout. What's a child like you doing with these bastards? What are you doing as one of these loathsome State Alchemists? A mere child? You're younger than my Simon, but you are still old enough you should have known about the war! You are no better them!"

Casper was yelling, tears streaking down his face.

Edward flinched and drew his knees up toward his chest but remained quiet. Fatigue and the shock that this man was the father of the soldier accused of shooting the Ishvalan girl prevented him from reacting to Casper's insinuation regarding his age. He was too tired to think beyond the horror that they were in the same room with a man who had such a strong grudge against the military.

The man stood to strike Edward, but Mustang kicked out at the man, causing him to lose his balance and fall, almost hitting his head against the opposite wall.

Edward watched in horror, but Mustang only smirked wanly.

Dammit, I didn't want to make him angry, but he was angry anyway, and I can't have him hurt Edward. I have to protect my subordinates!

Casper picked himself up and lunged at Mustang. As he did so, Mustang heard the barely audible clinking noise of something metal striking the cold concrete floor. Quickly glancing to the side, Mustang saw a small key, small enough to be the keys for their cuffs. In a last bout of strength, he shifted his position, drawing up one leg to block the key from sight.

Some luck at last!

Mustang quickly smoothed his expression.

Edward, despite his fatigue, also tried to maneuver himself to help, but Casper had the upper hand and seemed to have learned from previous experience. His foot slammed down on one of Mustang's ankle, the very same ankle he had stepped on before. Casper rocked forward, bringing the weight off of his other foot, pressing even harder and Mustang felt the bones in the joint grinding together. With Casper's full weight pressed into his ankle, and Mustang's desire to keep the key hidden, Mustang was pinned.

Casper leaned even farther forward and planted his other foot between Mustang and Edward, using it to balance himself. He was far enough forward that Edward did not have the leverage to kick him. Edward's vision of Mustang was nearly blocked by Casper.

A meaty hand plunged into Mustang as Casper braced himself against the wall and leaned over to leverage the blow to Mustang's gut, and another and another.

"We'll save Amestris," Casper was almost out of breath, but he still managed to stand, "and all the pain that we've suffered will be avenged. No one else will have to die like my son did."

Still breathing heavily, Casper took a step back, then left the room. The light flickered and went dark.

"Mustang…" Edward looked on in horror. You said yourself we shouldn't provoke them!

"A couple of punches is nothing, Edward," Mustang panted. "Would you go down from a few blows?"

"No!"

"The lack of food and water is the real issue here," Mustang grunted. "It's not like that oaf has the strongest punch. You could do worse."

"Hey!"

Mustang's face was serious, "Now, Damien, he's the guy we have to worry about. He's had some training. Damien could actually do some damage, but as it is, I'll have some light bruising, nothing more."

"Yeah, but…," Edward trailed off.

Mustang merely shook his head, and they fell into an uneasy silence. Mustang did not mention the key. He was not sure exactly how long they had until Damien came next, and if they bided their time well, they would be able to use the next time Damien visited as a marker for a plan of escape.

Casper stormed down the hall after leaving, and after leaving the basement, he moved toward the living quarters.

"You go to see the two captives again?"

Casper turned. Maria stood by the meeting room door, her arm resting on the doorjamb as she leaned into it. Maria's dart was the very dart that had finished Mustang in the end, but Casper took pride in his fateful punch that finally sent the man into unconsciousness. Damien had forbidden him from mentioning it, but Mustang's involvement in the war, that war the military falsely accused his son of starting, made his anger against Mustang grow with every day he was near.

"What's it to you?"

"You know they only make you angry. Why torture yourself? Once we're ready, we'll use them and see what information we can get from them. Until then, we should let them rot."

"A weakened alchemist is much easier to deal with, I know," Casper smirked, "but this will help the process."

Maria only gave him an askance glance, "whatever you need to tell yourself. You're not the only one with the beef against the military. We're all waiting for the right time, so you can too. You don't need to antagonize them constantly. You know the plan."

Casper merely glared. None of the rebels liked the military, but Simon, and thus Casper by default, were betrayed by that military. Not only did Casper agree with the rebels that the military was corrupt, but the military, according to Casper, had also betrayed him and his son. He would seek vengeance in any way possible through those that supported that government and fought for it.

As the sun set on the day Casper visited the two alchemists, back at Eastern Command, Hawkeye was on the phone again.

"Yes, sir. Colonel Mustang has not contacted me yet. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Hawkeye hung up the phone and sighed.

Havoc was the first to break the silence, "So, any news?"

Hawkeye turned to the team, "No. Neither Mustang nor Edward have contacted Northern Command yet with their report. Since his first contact was to be through me, they called to double-check. The second group was sent out earlier today and has been given instructions to look for the two missing Alchemists along with their search for the rebels.

"General Raven believes them to be MIA. He's not calling them AWOL yet. If the second team discovers the rebels, and Mustang and Edward are not with them, they will be declaired AWOL, though."

"What?" Breda looked on incredulously.

"I know, we all know that Mustang wouldn't leave, but the higher-ups aren't so sure. They're willing to keep capture on the table now, but due to the lightness of the rumors, only some heckling of the north-eastern cities, they are not yet willing to consider them a threat, a nuisance, yes, but not a threat.

"Mustang's report indicates that there is a rebel group involved in criminal activity, but the government is not yet willing to say that they are truly a threat. I think they think the group is small enough to take care of easily."

"What of the rumors of them crossing the border?"

"Not yet confirmed. If those had been confirmed, the military would consider the rebels a bigger threat," Hawkeye sighed.

The team fell silent.

"We'll just have to wait and see what happens because I have the feeling Mustang and Edward will need us here and ready before the end."

The next day, in the early evening, Damien came to Mustang and Edward's cell with more water. The light revealed Edward to be even paler than before, and Mustang's face was waxen. The light almost hurt. Although every time one of the two men came into the room they had some light, the overall lack was beginning to make any somewhat painful.

Edward gulped greedily at the water Damien offered, and his head lolled to the side when Damien drew the cup away. The longing in his eyes as he watched Damien give the rest of the water to Mustang made Damien smirk and Mustang's gut clench, but Mustang did not argue. Damien's threat to cease giving Edward any water if they complained still fresh in both alchemist's minds. Despite the two-day lapse. Both were glad the confrontation with Casper the day before did not result in any lack of water. No one spoke a word during the visit.

As soon as Damien left, they knew from previous experience that no one was likely to come until the next day at the earliest. Mustang shifted his position and, using one toe, attempted to wiggle out of one boot.

Mustang's voice was raspy as he spoke, "We haven't been here long enough to be sure, but aside from the first day when Damien came twice and Casper once, they've mostly left us alone. They shouldn't be back today."

"And?" Edward's throat was still raw and his mouth dry, but the little bit of water had done something to ease the rawness, even if it did little to quench his thirst.

Mustang paused his movements, allowing a wave of vertigo to pass. "If we're alone, we can escape, especially now that I have the key."

Edward's eyes widened, "Wait? Since when?"

Mustang smirked, "yesterday. Casper dropped the key when he attacked me."

Edward's smile widened. Maybe we do have some luck after all!

Oh, I know, I'm cruel to end there, but you'll understand once you see the next chapter. I had to find a break somewhere!

*I chose the name for the soldier Envy impersonated when he shot the little girl myself. I searched through parts of the manga, but I couldn't find if he was ever named. If I missed something, let me know, but I chose the name Simon for a reason. The names of my characters will all be explained in by chapter 9.

Thanks so much for reading!