Chapter 8: Into the Blizzard

Last Chapter… about one hour ago…

Mustang pressed the door open.

Sheets of falling, swirling snow met them once they opened the door. A good four inches of snow covered the ground. A dim grey-white light was forming on the edge of the horizon.

Mustang looked at Edward, who shrugged in response.

Mustang looked outside once more and then turned back to Edward, "Either we brave it or hope that we can find a place to hide. The snow might provide some cover and hide our tracks."

"Yeah," Edward said, nodding in agreement, "Let's just hope we find shelter before it gets worse. If it does." The sarcasm in his voice was evident.

Mustang looked out into the world outside their prison once more, and Edward's eyes followed, then, as the sound of shouting drew nearer, they slipped on their coats and plunged into the world of deadly white.

Wind whipped around them, and the swirling snow was blinding. The cold penetrated everything, rendering their thick coats almost useless. The two alchemists, barely visible through the blowing curtains of white, fought to continue onward.

As Mustang and Edward continued to trudge forward, both were wondering how everything could have spun out of control, forcing them into their current predicament, which had them fighting for their lives against the elements. Having come from one of the worst situations possible, the sudden blizzard only made them less prepared to survive.

Edward was limping. His damaged automail leg crackled and sparked as the exposed wires came into contact with the wind and damp snow surrounding them. His golden hair would fly into his face, so he had to keep brushing it away, only to have it whip back into his face again.

Mustang, walking only a pace in front of Edward, stumbled as the deepening snow sucked further energy from his already abused and exhausted body. Even only a few inches of snow at this point would have made walking difficult for the malnourished and battered Colonel, let alone a full blizzard.

The deepening snow also posed a problem for Edward, but besides hunger, he was in better condition than the Colonel, despite his broken automail.

Both silently peered through the thickening snow as they continued forward, hoping to find some form of shelter before they succumbed to the frigid cold.

What had only been a heavy snowfall when they escaped the rebels, with a few inches of snow on the ground, had turned into a raging blizzard. Edward inwardly berated himself for jinxing their escape into the snow. About half an hour into the falling snow, the wind had picked up.

Now, they were moving through a good two feet of snow. The snow covered everything, and the only good thing about it was that, for now, their captors would not be able to follow their tracks if they dared brave the snow like the two alchemists.

Mustang was wondering if they should have found a place to hide back in the building, but seeing as they knew nothing of the layout and they had hurt Casper, he was not interested in finding out how willing Damien was to forgive their escape attempt. Damien's thinly veiled threat to not back-talk on their first day or to question him when he first brought them water still lingered in the back of Mustang's mind.

Mustang had yet to consider their escape a success. Edward, on the other hand, did not bother considering it either way. They had yet to find a place to hide, and to Edward, they at least had succeeded at escaping the building. Now, they had to finish their escape by finding shelter and making their way home.

Edward, who had been looking around as they walked, eventually spotted a dark shape looming up to their left. Mustang, although looking, had focused his attention forward, bowing against the onslaught of the raging wind.

Edward raised his voice to be heard over the howling, "Mustang! To our left!"

Mustang responded slowly, turning to face Edward first to see where he was pointing. Soon Mustang saw the dark shape to which Edward referred. Mustang nodded to the young Alchemist, and they made their way over. Luck was finally with them as the dark face of a cliff loomed over them. The opening to a small cave stuck out due to the snow sticking to the cliff's face, blanketing everything in white except the cave's opening.

Both Alchemists stumbled inside and collapsed.

"We need to make a fire, or we'll freeze to death."

Sneering at Mustang, Edward quipped, "Where do you suppose we'll find the wood genius and dry stuff? It's not like I saw anything buried in the snow."

Edward was feeling far from gracious at the moment. Although he credited Mustang with their escape, he was tired and hungry. The dizzying sensation that he had been fighting only persisted even though he was now sitting.

Mustang looked over at the young Alchemist. Although Edward had been walking before, the moment they sat down, Edward had clutched his knee. There was little they could do. Mustang struggled to a stand and then walked to the entrance.

Edward's heart leapt the moment Mustang stood and made his way to the entrance of the cave without responding to his jab. The sudden panic after his heated words left him inwardly reeling.

Edward's fearful voice followed Mustang, "where are you going?"

Mustang was finding it harder and harder to ignore the growing part of him that wanted to erase the fear he heard in Edward's voice. He glanced back and saw the same expression on Edward's face as when he left him in the cell alone. This time, however, it was more prominent.

Despite Mustang's misgivings about treating Edward like a soldier, due to the extenuating circumstances, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

I have to treat him like the soldier he is. He has to be treated like an adult now, even if I give him some slack because of his age.

Mustang, however, knew he was lying to himself. The images ingrained in his brain were more like that of Ishval, especially where the children were concerned. He heard about Armstrong's breakdown. As the Flame Alchemist, Mustang could stand back from those he killed. He might see the burnt corpses, but he never had to really watch them die. Watching Edward slowly succumb to thirst and show what Mustang assumed to be fear when Edward thought Mustang was leaving in the otherwise intrepid Alchemist was pricing Mustang's soul.

The kid would never approve of being treated like a kid. He probably wouldn't want to be treated like a teen, for that matter. He wants to be an adult. So, I have to give him that respect.

"I'm going to see if I can find firewood, Edward. We have to try. You stay here and get some rest."

With that, Mustang pushed out into the snow once more, trying to keep the cave within sight. It was all too easy to become lost in the snow, especially as it a blizzard.

Edward watched Mustang disappear. Independence was one thing, but Edward did not want to be alone in the middle of a forest, who-knows-where with a broken automail leg.

He'd never leave… No! I don't want him to be more than a commanding officer. I need to be an adult. I have to be strong. If I'm not, who will be there for Alphonse? I have to correct my own mistakes.

Edward curled into himself, his arms wrapped around the knees, which he bought up to his chest, his head resting on top of them.

I don't deserve his kindness, and I don't want his pity, or sympathy for that matter. I don't deserve it, and he wouldn't give it anyway. But he's more hurt than I am, and he's doing this. He's my commanding officer, that's all. He said so himself.

Edward gripped his knee tighter.

He's a caring commanding officer. Watching him with the team is proof of that, but he's just my commanding officer none-the-less. I can't expect more. That's why everyone else left or died anyway, right? Because I don't deserve to rely on anyone, I don't deserve the comfort of some adult figure, and Truth knows it.

Back in the abandoned medical facility, Casper woke slowly. Damien sat in a chair by his bedside. Damien's expression was unreadable, just as he wanted it.

When Casper took notice of Damien, he felt the slightest bit of apprehension well in his chest. Damien generally was calm and indifferent, but sometimes, Casper and the other rebels noted something different about Damien. There was something darker about him that gave the rebels a sense of foreboding but also courage. Damien was quiet and strong-willed. There was something about him that drew you to him, but there was also something that repelled you away. Casper thought Damien was a good leader, but there was this wall in-between Damien and others that never when down or waivered. Damien thought things through and was blunt to a fault. He did not take slack from anyone and maintained the expectation that they would follow orders. Damien always dealt in cold hard facts. He never insinuated emotions into his dealing with others, even though he interacted with ease, and kept everyone at arms-length.

Casper knew exactly what to expect in this meeting.

"So, the two alchemists tried to escape." It was a statement, not a question, but Casper nodded.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went to see the guards at the front door. When I came back, I stopped by the kitchen for a drink. Then, when I was going back to my room, I thought I saw someone going toward back into the compound. I followed and saw them. I shot the kid on the leg. He fell, and I was able to damage his automail. The Colonel was around the corner, so I didn't see him. He came back, and the last thing I remember is him charging at me."

Damien did not answer right away but studied Casper. Then very slowly, he asked a question, "Is there anything else? Anything," Damien paused, his eyes narrowing, "missing?"

Casper gulped, "Well, I noticed one of the keys missing from the hooks in the mess."

Casper's voice trailed off at the end, and the only indication that Damien heard his words was the slightest raising of his eyebrows. It wasn't a surprise, though. Casper felt like he was being scolded by a parent.

"Really, now? I wonder where that key could have gone."

Casper gulped again.

"Will the key make its way back to the hook from which it came?"

Casper observed Damien, the blood draining from his face. He knows… He knows that I took it so I could harass them more. He didn't care about what I was doing then, but now…

Damien gave the slightest smile. Good, he thought. He knows what he's done. That's all I need.

Damien had put the pieces together. Damien would never have taken the key unless he was purposefully looking to move one of the prisoners, and he would have taken someone with him.

Casper is far too likely to let his emotions rule.

Damien stood and walked toward the door. Casper watched Damien nervously.

"Once you're well enough from that minor," Damien stressed the word, "hit to the head. You'll help lead the search for our two escapees now, won't you?"

Casper could only nod, and Damien left the room.

Inside the room, Casper collapsed back down onto the bed. If looks could kill, even without batting an eyelash or looking angry, Damien could manage it.

Outside the room, Damien remained impassive as he walked back to the mess hall to begin organizing the search for the escapees. He needed them because they served a purpose.

And the military gave them right to me.

Damien smiled.

Mustang watched the young Alchemist, who was curled in the corner.

After returning with wood, they had managed to dry it with alchemy and start a small fire. Once the fire was lit, they had eaten and drank some of the water but kept the meal small to conserve what they had. The small cave warmed nicely, and once they settled down after eating, they sat in silence.

Mustang sat with his back against the far wall, and Edward sat to his right, tucked away and farthest from the entrance.

Mustang wore an expression of intense concentration. While on the surface, he seemed impassive and calm, underneath his emotions swirled.

I need to do a better job taking care of Edward and ensuring that he gets home okay. He has people waiting for him.

Mustang's eye drifted to Edward's knee as I gave a slight spasm. Edward flinched and clutched the knee tighter, then eased it back.

Edward settled back down as the pain lessened, but Mustang felt a slight tightening in his chest that was quickly released.

Edward is far too young for this kind of thing. If this had remained a simple reconnaissance, it would be one thing, but it's not. Not anymore, and Edward has Al.

Mustang stretched his weary and abused body, sitting up straight so he could look Edward in the eye with confidence as he spoke.

"Don't worry, Edward. We'll get home."

Given Edward's previous musings concerning adult figures, the words made him inwardly flinch. Guilt, anger, shame, all because of wounded pride and a slowing growing desire for someone to care in a maelstrom of emotion on top-off everything else, caused him to retort with biting words.

"I never asked for you to be some sort of," Edward paused, "father-figure or some such nonsense!"

Mustang did a double-take. I never suggested that, did I?

"And I never intended to be one! I'm your commanding officer. Not your father."

"Then why? Why are you doing all of this?" Edward made a vague gesture to Mustang and the cave they occupied.

"Why? Because I am your commanding officer, and I take care of my own! I don't care if I'm bleeding out and dying. I protect my subordinates, and you are one of them. I will see to your needs, and I will protect you, making sure you get through this and back to your brother! You have goals to accomplish!"

Edward huffed, "what about your own? What about your goals!"

"I cannot very well meet my own goals if I can't help you accomplish yours. If I cannot take care of all of my subordinates, how could I ever hope to achieve my own goals? How could I ever hope to become a Fuhrer who can change this country?"

"How does becoming Fuhrer have anything to do with taking care of people?! It's a military position!"

Edward was desperate. I don't want to be feeling so confused. He isn't supposed to be doing all this, even usually! Let alone for someone like me!

"I don't like how this country is run, and I don't like how the Fuhrer goes about his job! My goal is to make this a democracy! The rebels may have a point about this country, but I know that violence only begets more violence. Maybe, it will be too little too late, but I want to do something."

Mustang sighed heavily, "I can't be the leader I want to be if I can't take care of my subordinates and help them see their own goals accomplished! I want it to protect those that I care about, so they, in turn, can protect those that they care about! That's the whole point of what I do."

Mustang huffed, and Edward stared. Edward had not been under Mustang's command for long, but he did know there was something different about him. Mustang had already explained his goals and desires when they talked about Ishval back in the cell, but this conversation allowed Edward to understand the motivation driving Mustang even more.

"Then why did you threaten Al on the day of my exam?"

"You mean when I threatened to send him to a lab?" Mustang gave a half-hearted laugh, "That was just to show you that the army wasn't going to be some soft cushy job, even if you were a proven State Alchemist. It was also to make the point that your superior officer basically holds your life in his hands. You needed to understand that your youth wouldn't be an exception. You were, and still are now, a soldier despite your age."

"Well, you did a good job making yourself look and sound like a jerk."

"Your superiors won't care."

"They should."

"Why do you think I'm trying to make a change? I work in the system, unlike these idiots." Mustang gestured toward the cave entrance. "They're only making themselves look like an enemy. They certainly weren't earning the sympathy or concern of the citizens from the cities we visited, now weren't they? Anyway, I try to treat my team with the respect they deserve. You don't get that under every officer."

Edward's shoulders slumped, "I know."

Edward closed his eyes. That's why you're so confusing.

After both alchemists had the chance to rest, they ate some more, and then Mustang headed out into the snow once again. He found that they were still very close to their starting point, and now, he had left tracks in the freshly laid snow.

Mustang quickly back-tracked, covering his tracks as best as possible.

"We're not too far from where we started. It seems we drifted left while walking, and now, we're farther toward the back of the compound, but not very far away."

Edward's eyes only widened a fraction before a determined light entered them.

"So, we have to move farther away."

"I don't know if they know about this cave, but if they do, or if they see it, I have no doubt that they will check it."

"Well, no, duh." Edward rolled his eyes in exasperation. Mustang merely glared in response.

"Do you think you can move?"

"Of course, old man! Winry made this thing, and it still works despite how it looks. I said so before, right?"

The sarcasm in Edward's voice made Mustang cringe. "Well, excuse me for checking that nothing changed, Fullmetal."

Edward glared back, "I don't need you to do that."

Mustang sighed, and Edward continued to glare, the slightest form of a pout curving his mouth in a petulant frown.

"We should move away from the compound as quickly as possible, but we'll also need to cover our tracks as we go." Mustang mused, almost to himself.

Edward merely listened but rolled his eyes yet again.

Honestly, how did he reach Colonel so young?

Edward sighed, "of course. How else will we be able to get away unless we move away from the compound?"

Mustang glared yet again, "I wasn't able to move in close, and it would have been counterproductive for me to go back to check what they were doing or if they were preparing to follow. However, given that the snow has stopped and that we escaped, it stands to reason that they will follow. We need to move away and cover our tracks, which means we need to be working together and have a decent plan in place. This is the reason why I said what I said."

"Obviously." Edward quipped.

Mustang almost growled but sighed and then, extending a hand to Edward to help him stand. Edward reluctantly took Mustang's hand and stood, but he quickly shook off the appendage once he was standing. Mustang merely shook his head and moved toward the small cave entrance after scattering the ashes to their fire. Edward watched from the entrance, and Mustang soon joined him there.

"So, the plan, oh fearless leader?"

Mustang gave Edward a sideways glance. Now that they were not in the cell anymore, Edward's sarcasm had reached an all-time high.

"Let's go."

Once more, the two alchemists moved out into the snow, carefully covering their tracks as best they could as they went.

To the north in Ebacofuha small group of men in plainclothes stood at the southern limits of the city, backpacks on their backs.

"Alright, team! We'll be headed south toward Yoxeqa. Reports say that the rebels have been seen south of the area, but we still should keep an eye out north of the city. We also have orders to find and secure the Flame and Fullmetal alchemists."

Lieutenant Colonel Brone looked over the men, four others besides himself. They had reached Ebacofuh the previous day in two separate groups. The same groups they would continue traveling in for the mission's duration. They were meeting briefly to ensure they had all the logistics of the plan down.

Lieutenant Colonel Brone knew all of them. Even if unbeknownst to him, one was an imposter. Envy observed the team and kept a maniacal grin off his face. He found humans to be downright pathetic, and the Lieutenant Colonel's attitude only served to strengthen Envy's opinion.

Lieutenant Colonel Brone headed out first with one of the other men, Private Denis. They were going to head in from the North East, while Sargent Jones and the other two, Private Dolion, otherwise known as the homunculi Envy, and Private Green, were to head in from the North West.

They were there as surveyors, so at least one person had to carry a pack full of notebooks and survey instruments to at least look somewhat like the part they were playing.

As they headed out, Envy could not help but smile at the foolishness. It's not like we'll find them.

Mustang and Edward paused. They could hear shouts in the distance behind them.

"I think they found our camp," Edward stated, the question going through Mustang's head with almost certainty. Mustang surveyed their covered tracks, which involved rearranging the snow back in place with alchemy. Some traces remained, but they had created a few false paths by back-tracking just in case.

Both Mustang and Edward shared a look. They had hoped they would have more time before the rebels found their camp or happened to cross their trail.

They had to move. The rebels were pursuing them, and they could not be caught.

Casper leaned down, and the other men surrounded him. The lingering scent of smoke still lingered in the small cave and the slightly disturbed snow outside were the only indications that anyone had been there.

They tried to cover their tracks. The snow was too clean for them to cover them entirely, but they did a good job. Probably with alchemy. It's going to be hard to follow.

Casper brought his hand up from the ground. Soot covered it and caught in the nooks and lines in his hand, creating dark lines and making the groves that would otherwise create his fingerprints stand out. The other men looked on, waiting.

Casper stood. "Well, we have a trail to follow. Come on, Damien won't wait long."

Logan, one of the group's youngest, shifted from one foot to the other. Casper, like the others, ignored him. He was the most likely to oppose any violence toward others. Logan's father had died while he was still very young in one of the many border disputes that occurred over the nation's existence. His mother had tried to raise him but did not have the resources to do so. After Simon died, Casper had helped raise the boy, and he had followed Casper into the life of a rebel willingly, but only to a point.

Casper shook his head. He was too young to understand the gravity of the situation. He still is.

Casper brushed past Logan, and he and the rest of the men followed outside. The disturbed snow created a wide path. Although they could not see any tracks, the top layer of snow did not hold the same luster and shine of freshly fallen snow as the alchemically smoothed over snow. However, it still required them to examine the top layer closely to be able to see the difference.

Good thing I've lived in the north all my life. I know snow. Casper grinned slightly.

"Alright, spread out. Look for disturbed snow. Expect multiple paths, some of which will lead to dead ends as well. With all this," he gestured to the snow and the Alchemist's work, "We'll need to follow closely and carefully, but it also means that they have to take the time to cover their tracks. We don't have the same concern. We'll catch up to them yet."

The other nodded, and soon they were off, in three groups of three, ready to find the alchemists and alert the others once they did. Everyone had a dart gun with the same drug they had used before. The groups spread out but remained just within sight of each other.

Within three hours, Casper's group came within sight of the slowly moving alchemists. Edward was moving slowly on his damaged and still sparking knee. Every so often, he would bend over, clap, and the snow would move to cover the fresh boot prints trailing behind them.

Mustang was leading, keeping an eye out ahead of them to try and lead them through the deep snow by the easiest path. Casper watched in amazement. The two alchemists had made it much farther than he imagined, and another thought struck him as well. While Casper and the others had snowshoes, which allowed them to walk on top of the snow without sinking, the two alchemists were trudging through the snow and sinking in places where the snow was exceptionally deep due to the deep drifts the wind had created. The land was not flat, and some areas were deceptively deep. Still, the snow made the land look flat. The fact that despite all this, the two alchemists had made it so far was impressive and Casper realized that, without the snow, the two would have made it much farther. Casper had almost cost them their hostages.

With a flick of Casper's finger, Logan and Jimmy each went in opposite directions to inform the others that they had found the two alchemists before making their plan to engage.

Back in the abandoned mental institute, Damien sat waiting. He was expecting visitors. They all were, but now that the place was abandoned in the pursuit of the two escaped alchemists. While Casper had gone south-west with a group, other groups had gone south-east, north-west, and north-east. Damien wanted them to cover all their bases, even if the two teams going south were most likely headed in the same direction their two prisoners had taken.

Damien scanned the woods once more. Within a few minutes, seven figures appeared out of the snow-laden trees. They wore dark coats and dark fur-lined caps. Damien smiled.

The rebel's Drachman allies had finally arrived.

The next couple of weeks are going to be really busy for me, but I still hope to get chapters out on a regular basis. Unlike my story, At the End of Us, where I had the whole thing written before I began posting, I was only done through about chapter none with this one before beginning to post, and honestly, I haven't made too much progress. So, we're almost all caught up. However, now we're getting to the fun angsty/hurt/comfort stuff for real.

xxx

Thank you to everyone who had favorited, followed, and reviewed. I appreciate your support!

And as always, thank you for reading!