Chapter 12: Shifts of the Heart

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Early in the morning, the Drachman allies, who were in the woods for an early morning training, came across a small team of surveyors. The Drachma leader, unfortunately, recognized one as a certain Lieutenant Colonel Brone.

The men acting as surveyors never saw what was coming.

As the Drachman left the macabre scene, not one noticed the hand that jutted up from under the pile of corpses, and they did not notice the slowly dimming, sparking, red glow of alchemy as Private Dolion recovered from his wounds, a grin contorting his face.

"First Lieutenant Hawkeye, we have sent out the second team, and from their last report, they had just arrived in Yoxequa. If they find Colonel Mustang and Major Elric, they will report. Until then, you have your own work to finish. Keep the office running in tip-top shape."

Hawkeye ground her teeth but managed a professional, "yes, General Raven," before setting down the phone. Hawkeye settled into the chair as the others looked on in concern.

"Nothing?" Fury asked.

Hawkeye shook her head.

"Maybe they had to go underground and will contact us soon, or are on their way to deliver the information in person?"

Hawkeye gave Fury a sympathetic smile, "that would mean the worst, especially given the absolute silence on their end. I am afraid it's even more dire, though."

"But they are supposed to be back tomorrow."

Hawkeye could only nod. She then stood in a sharp but fluid motion.

"Alright, we just have to believe in them. Let's finish our work and make sure everything is up to date for when they return."

Despite wan grins from the rest of the team, they knew what they had to do. For now, they could put energy behind keeping the office running well. Even Jean was not taking as many smoking breaks, despite the tension.

And so, they continued their work. Hawkeye looked at the small black book in her hand, hidden beneath the desk. She was not going to take this lying down. If the Brass were not going to start a search beyond the second team, she would.

With determined eyes, Hawkeye continued her work, all the while thinking of a plan to find their missing comrades.

Mustang woke slowly and almost started at the feel of a warm body leaning against him. A quick glance to his side reminded him that he and Edward had fallen asleep after Jimmy gave them water. Both were still bound, and the dark circles under Edward's eyes belied his exhaustion.

Mustang felt sore. Everything hurt, and the pressure of Edward leaning against him aggravated the still healing ribs. He remembered waking up in the room with Edward and Edwards almost completely concealed concern.

He is only thirteen.

Mustang sighed but was reminded of his injured throat. He was surprised he had been able to talk so well before, but now it seemed everything was catching up.

I was probably still in shock- the human body isn't meant to breathe water, Mustang grunted.

Mustang then sagged, and he felt Edward slip a little when he did. When Mustang moved to catch Edward, he was reminded that his wrists were still bound. He had only barely been able to contort himself to bring them in front of him, and only because he had been laying on the ground.

Looking around, Mustang noted the dim interior and the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

They had no idea what day it was or how much time had passed since the men had brought Mustang to the cell where Edward was kept or how long it took for Mustang to wake up. But, once they came back with more water, if they were keeping to the two-day schedule, then they would know.

Mustang glanced down again at the still sleeping figure.

"Edward?"

Mustang shifted his shoulder, wincing as he did so, and received a grunt for his efforts.

"Edward?"

Edward could feel Mustang's chest vibrate, and although the name was muffled, Edward could hear Mustang's voice resonate within his chest, mingling with the sound of his heartbeat. The feeling and the sounds were conforming and warm, just like the body he was pressed against.

Edward felt emotion well up within him. He had been alone for an unknown amount of time. Beatings, drugs, and other means of physical pain were torture, but isolation was also a means. Edward's face scrunched as he envisioned what might have happened to Mustang given the visible injuries.

Mustang watched Edward's face scrunch, assuming Ed was just waking up and not realizing he had been, by then, just resting.

For the first time in a while, Edward felt safe. Mustang was safe, and he could rely on Mustang to look out for him, unlike many adult figures in his life. For sure, Sig was reliable, big, and strong, and Teacher was ridiculously strong. However, they had so little time with the Curtis's before they left and were back in Resembool with Winry and Pinako and the town folk. And even then, they were very much alone.

"Edward." Mustang's voice held a bit more authority than the previous times, and Edward merely grunted.

"Five more minutes."

Of course, you want five more minutes, you bratty teen. We've all said that.

Mustang sighed, "we need to talk. I know you only just woke up, but I need to know what they did to you once you got here. You only really told me what they did out there. We didn't get a chance to really talk before we fell asleep, and I want to make sure we actually get the chance. Just in case."

Edward scrunched his eyes but kept them closed. "Only if you tell me what they did to you."

Edward huffed. Really, the jerk's persistent.

Mustang sighed, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling.

"I woke up in a white room, bound to an operating table. The short version is that they beat, shocked, and drugged me. Then, right before they brought me here, I think, it's the last thing I remember before waking up here, they tried drowning too." Mustang decided to cover the basics without going into much detail but gave enough to convince Edward to at least give him some more information.

Edward flinched, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet, but Mustang heard all the same.

"I woke up here. I only saw one guy. He never talked and only gave me water. I think they followed the two-day pattern. Sometimes it's dark, but they at least leave that dim light up there turned on most of the time. It went out before they brought you in, though. They replaced the lightbulb."

Mustang nodded, "thank you."

Edward just hummed and, having never opened his eyes, was soon asleep again, still resting on Mustang's shoulder. Mustang merely continued to stare at the ceiling, pondering what their captors might be doing, what their plans were, and what he should do next.

Damien glared at the Drachman leader, who only gave him a cool smile. The Drachman had just returned from the morning patrol, had brought irritating news.

"No one will find bodies. No one goes through woods anyway."

Damien took a deep breath. "Regardless, we could have distracted them and then led them away. Now, the government has more people missing."

The Drachman leader cocked his head to the side, "More men missing? You've been quite secretive, and while we agreed to work with you, you should not treat us like mere errand boys scouting the nearby forest."

Damien smiled in irritation, "I know you have been curious as to our activities deeper in the complex for the past week. I was waiting until the opportune time to inform you that we already have two state alchemists in our possession."

The Drachman's eyebrows rose in mock surprise, and Damien winced inwardly. He hadn't wanted them to know quite yet.

I'm going to need to move the plan forward more quickly than I initially planned, and I'm going to need to keep a closer eye on our Drachman allies.

Damien smiled, "Well, then, how about we discuss our next steps."

Unseen and around a corner, Casper leaned against the wall heavily. Eyes narrowed, and lips pursed in deep thought.

Hours later, and back in the cell where Mustang and Edward sat, Edward finally deemed the world worthy of his couscous presence.

"You finally decided to wake up?"

"Shut up, bastard."

"I was getting tired of waiting for you."

"Well, so~rry, I didn't realize it was my job to keep you from boredom."

"You do that well enough with all the sloppy reports and calls about the destruction that seems to follow you around."

"Hey!"

Edward's objection was not filed with the same undertone of anger and irritation it usually held. For a second, Mustang pondered it but decided it was still welcome. If his intention had been to provoke the teen into some semblance of normalcy, he had failed, but the change was still welcome.

Even Edward realized that his attitude was different from before, but if he was going to actually trust Mustang, then it was alright. Mustang wasn't quite the egotistical, power-hungry maniac he generally perceived him to be. Mustang may still be egotistical and bent on rising in the ranks, but Mustang had a reason and a dang good one from Ed's perspective.

Edward smiled. He'd hardly have realized it if not for this turn of events.

"Hey, want me to see if I can undo some of those ropes?"

Edward slowly processed Mustang's offer and merely moved to sit forward while giving Mustang an expectant look.

Mustang slowly but surely, despite his own bound wrists, undid the rope around Edward's arms. Once they were gone, Edward flexed, moving what he could despite the cuffs still around his wrists.

"It looks like your wrists are shackled with a block. I won't be able to do much about those."

"I know. I can feel the wood digging into my wrists."

Mustang nodded, "Hopefully, untying the rope around your arms helped?"

Edward grunted, "some."

Mustang moved on to the ropes around Edward's knees and ankles. Once undone, Mustang helped Edward sit back against the wall once more. Then Mustang sat down next to him, leaving just a bit of distance.

Edward recognized Mustang's intention but shifted so that their sides pressed together and leaned his head on Mustang's shoulder.

Mustang turned his head to look at Edward, and as if anticipating him, Edward grumbled, "you're warm, deal with it."

Mustang had wanted to give Edward room. Now that he wasn't bound, he would be able to balance better, but the feeling of someone being there was peaceful.

Mustang smiled and just sat there. He was a bit concerned that Edward had fallen asleep again after finally waking, but it was to be expected if Edward hadn't slept well the past week. He frowned as he looked at the ever-present bruises under Edward's eyes.

Really, they may not have done much, but leaving him alone might have been worse.

Edward started awake when the door to their cell was flung open. Meanwhile, Mustang shifted his attention to the man at the door.

Damien walked into the room, Jimmy and Isaac following behind, guns pointed at the two Alchemists.

Both Alchemists felt the blood drain from their faces.

Damien paused long enough to see the ropes lying on the floor.

"No need to panic. We're just here to make things a bit more comfortable. It seems like you've already done some of our job for us, though, haven't you now, Mustang.

Edward shifted uncomfortably. The way Damien was looking at Mustang unnerved him. It was like how someone might look at a bug or something distasteful. Damien almost never showed emotion.

Mustang also noted the look. By this time, he had shifted to his knees. They probably only brought the guns, so we won't attack them when they untie us. At least that's what it sounds like the plan is.

Mustang looked on uneasily and then noted the chains hanging from Jimmy's hand.

"You'll untie us, but then still restrain us, right?"

"Naturally, but this time, I'm the only one with the key."

The implication was clear. They were not going to get out of this easily.

"Now, don't move. While I do still need you alive, I have no problem with anything else. So, long as you're still breathing."

Damien took a short chain from Jimmy and moved forward to come along Edward's right side, the opposite from Mustang. He fiddled with a small hook in the wall and, once the chain was fixed to the wall, snapped the cuff around Edward's right ankle.

Damien stood and backed away. He then took a long chain from Jimmy and moved to the back corner of the room, to Mustang's left. Here, he fiddled with the chain, also fixing it to the wall, and then approached Mustang, glaring down at him.

"The chain is long enough you'll be able to stay there, but you won't be able to move farther away along the wall."

"Why's mine a different length?" Edward groused.

"Because I want you right there," Damien smirked.

Damien looked at Mustang, "you're not going to try to stop me."

"No."

"Good, don't want the kid getting hurt, now do we? Since he won't have the mobility, you will, now do we?"

Mustang felt his stomach sink.

Damien leaned down and snapped the cuff around Mustang's left ankle.

He then paused, reached for Mustang's wrists, and then undid the knots binding them.

Edward huffed, "what about my wrists?"

"Your cuffs stay on," Damien stood. "I can't have you doing that irritating clap alchemy, now can I?"

As Damian began to walk away, the other two men left. Once at the door, Damien turned to the alchemists once more.

"Well, have a good night," Damien mocked. "See you two tomorrow. You'll get your water then."

And Damien walked out once more.

Mustang and Edward watched them leave.

"Well, that was eventful."

Edward's sarcasm made Mustang's lip almost twitch into a smile.

"Yes, it was."

"Well?"

Mustang turned to Edward, "what?"

"They just slapped chain on us again, you bastard."

"Yes, and they had guns."

"I know!" Edward's exasperation was palatable.

"Ed, not much else we could do."

"No, but… still."

"We'll come up with something."

"And the military might be coming for us?"

"Yes, they very well may be. Knowing Hawkeye, it might not be the military, though."

Edward cast a sideways glance at Mustang, a cheeky grin stretching across his face. "Oh, really now?"

Mustang just shook his head and leaned up against the wall once more. "Go to sleep, and that's an order."

Edward huffed but settled against the wall, and they sat in peaceful silence.

Mustang narrowly opened his eyes. Damien was back. Both alchemists felt like groaning. It didn't feel like too long ago that he had last left. Edward stirred as Damien moved to stand in front of them.

"What do you want?" Edward groused. "Here to actually give us some food?"

"Actually, yes." Damien smiled, and Jimmy walked in behind him carrying a tray with two glasses of water and two bowls of rice topped with some vegetables and what looked like shredded meat.

Mustang allowed his eyes to open fully but glared at Damien.

"What is this about? You've hardly given us anything on any other day you've actually provided food."

Edward gave Mustang an incredulous glare.

Who in their right mind doesn't accept food? Especially after being without it for so long? I'm hungry.

"Well, you don't have to eat it," Edward gripped. "I can eat it."

Mustang sighed, "No, I'll eat my portion. Anyway, we've been without food for long enough that we have to be careful about refeeding syndrome."

"What…?"

"Well, the Colonel knows his stuff." Damien interrupted Edward with a smile, and Jimmy placed the food down in front of them.

Damien knelt by Edward and Jimmy held a gun directed at Mustang.

"I'm going to switch the block so it's in front, but don't think about doing anything reckless."

Edward merely grunted and Damian unlocked one of Edward's hands and then re-restrained the hand once both were in front.

As he stood, he pickup up where he left off.

"Well, we did see each other yesterday when you were officially restrained. After all, you were finally awake, Mustang. And well, I had received some very fortunate…" he paused, "or unfortunate news. I've finally decided to share it, though."

"Yeah, you sort of held us at gunpoint." Edward glared at the gun still in Jimmy's hand. "I thought it had been long enough for water- it was disappointing that you were a complete jerk." Edward's voice was muffled between the bites he took of his meal.

Edward was awkwardly holding the bowl in one hand and trying to scoop up the food with his other. The block around his wrists was making the ordeal awkward.

Mustang glared at Edward out of the corner of his eye but picked up his own bowl if only to be sure that Ed wouldn't steal his food and glanced up at Damien again.

I don't like that look.

Damien seemed uncharacteristically pleased.

"Just about, and well, it's been seventeen days since your first capture."

Mustang started at the revelation; his count was reasonably accurate, but to have it verified was both gratifying and distressing.

Edward paused but continued to eat, even if at a slightly slower pace.

Damien continued, "So, we're going to celebrate your half-month stay now that you two are together again and fed." He glanced at Mustang in feigned sympathy, "I hope your wounds are feeling better. After all, it was only a few punches- I'm sure the drugs were the worst of it, now isn't that right, Mustang?"

Damien watched their reactions. Mustang's expression didn't change, but Edward winced. Damien raised an eyebrow. It was plain to him that Mustang must have mentioned something of their time apart. It was then that Edward looked up, and the glare in his eyes made Damien inwardly sneer.

The two alchemists were starting to get on his nerves. But, despite all he had done, and despite the apparent distress shown by Edward when he had initially brought Mustang back, it seemed like they had moved past the ordeal.

All of my work… they're mere pawns in all of this, insurance now that they are in our grip- blast those Drachman's for making this more difficult. Now that I have to push things forward, I need these two even more. I might have obtained a more malleable pawn had they not killed them all.

"Well, there is another reason I'm here and for the meal, but I'll let you finish."

Damien took a step back. Mustang realized that if he wanted this meeting over and done, he would need to eat. Mustang also started to chew his meal, slowly. When he was about three-quarters done, he saw Edward surreptitiously eyeing his food.

Mustang sighed, growing brat, and handed over the bowl to Edward.

Edward's eyes opened wide, and he sputtered, "I don't need…"

"Shut it, kid." Mustang interrupted him. "You're young and growing, and you need the nutrients."

"Who are you calling a shrimpy, microbe that…" Edward shot up into a near-standing position but wavered and almost lost his balance.

Mustang's arm shot out to steady him, and Edward panted as he settled back into a sitting position.

Mustang grimaced inwardly, knowing that Damien had witnessed the whole thing. When he looked back at Edward, Ed had polished off the last of Mustang's food.

Cheeky brat.

"Well, now that you're all finished, on to the other bit of news."

Damien strode to the door, and bending down to pick something up from the ground just out of sight, he then turned and brought the…

Mustang nearly gagged when he realized that Damien was bringing a severed head into the cell.

Edward froze, and a sheen of sweat coated his brow at the sight.

Damien smiled at their stiff postures. "Our," he paused, thinking for a moment, then continued, "allies found some of your friends in the woods. They took care of them. So, you don't need to worry about any reports getting back to Central about us here. Do you recognize him?"

Damien dropped the head at Mustang's feet, and it took all his training considering the situation to remain calm outwardly.

Lieutenant Colonel Brone - the second team's leader.

Mustang took a deep breath, "So it seems."

"Very good," Damien smiled. "I'll leave that here for just a bit. Don't worry; I'll be back for it. Don't want a nasty rotting head in here. You're too close to the rest of the living quarters for that."

Mustang glanced at Damien.

"So, you shouldn't think about getting out again. You'll be seen." Damien's smile was impassive and cold.

"You bastard," Edward glared and would have stood if not for his previous dizzy spell, but Damien just turned around, walked out, and shut the door.

As soon as the door was closed, in the darkest corner of the room, a little green bug scuttled through a crack in the wall to find its way outside.

Back in the cell, Mustang stared at the head of Lieutenant Colonel Brone.

"How could, why did he… what the hell is this?" Edward ranted.

"It means that the second team was defeated," Mustang stated.

"Killed, you mean. These were the guys who were supposed to take over for us, right?"

"Yes," Mustang nodded, "and it means that today is the day we were supposed to return."

"Isn't that good?" Edward's eyes lit up. "It means that they'll know something happened? We already talked about the whole not send reports thing."

Mustang grimaced. "Yes and no- it means that even though there may be some concern due to our lack of communication, it also means that due to the potential threat of the situation, we really won't be officially considered missing until two days from now."

Edward gaped, "Wait, what?"

"They may have already started the paperwork to count us as missing, and knowing Hawkeye, she's pushing for it to some degree- without getting us in trouble. However, since we could be maintaining radio silence, the Brass won't really start moving until two days from now."

Edward's gaze fell to the floor, "and then we'd have to wait for another team to get here. And they would still need to find this place…" his voice trailed off.

Mustang nodded.

"Crap"

Mustang pursed his lips- we're going to need to do something – we're really on our own now that we don't have the chance of running into the second team…

Mustang looked up and met Edward's bleak gaze. "But now that the second team will stop communicating, they will send a team, a much larger team than ours or the second."

"When?" Ed asked.

"Well, it depends on when and how often the second team was supposed to communicate with Central. At most, five days, and at the fewest…." Mustang smiled, "they'll know by today that something is wrong."

Edward smiled, too, "better not say that out loud again. Don't want to give the bastards any warning."

Mustang smiled, "No, no, we don't."

A short time later, Jimmy came in and retrieved the head. Mustang and Edward merely watched on in silence. They spent the rest of the evening resting. Neither was feeling well, and Edward continually felt like he was going to fall asleep.

When the door opened no more than half an hour later, both were surprised to see Casper walk into the cell. Given their previous encounters with him before their initial escape and their recapture, both were surprised it was the first he had come to see them.

Casper did not speak but merely observed.

Mustang and Edward did not say anything either but merely glared. Mustang with determination, and Edward with distrust.

Casper saw the way Edward leaned into Mustang and how Mustang had shifted his position to be prepared if he needed to come in between Casper and Edward.

Casper was well aware, as were the rest of the rebels that Damien had asked for help from Drachma, and in Casper's mind, that was going just a bit too far. Yet, he was the one who brought Damien here. And Casper was the one who got everyone involved in the first place.

If I were in here with Logan, what would I be doing?

The thought had been plaguing him for some time now, ever since he had seen the unconscious Mustang on the operating table and peeked into the cell to find a fitfully sleeping Edward.

By now, Edward's glare was scrunched with confusion due to Casper's silence, and Mustang was still as ever, but far warier.

"Why?" The questions escaped Casper before he could stop himself.

Both Alchemists looked on in confusion. Casper started and, spinning around, fled the room, slamming and locking the door on the way out, then fleeing down the hall to his own room.

In the early morning hours, Casper was pacing his room. Deeper in the compound, he knew the two alchemists sat together in a cell, unaware of what was in store for them. His thoughts turned and turned. The last week felt as if it was some sort of dream. At first, he felt no remorse, but the look on the young alchemist's face when he saw his commanding officer, limp and unresponsive when they threw Mustang in the cell with Edward, had unnerved Casper.

The beatings and the fitfully sleeping Edward had also begun to weaken his resolve, but the absolute horror on Edward's face at the sight of his injured commanding officer had haunted Casper's dreams last night.

His thoughts turned to their encounter the night before.

Why did they become State Alchemists? Why did that bastard stay with the government during the war? Don't they see how bad the government really is?

His thoughts turned to what he knew was coming.

Is this really alright? It's all for the cause, but what if we become what we're fighting? And those Drachma soldiers are even more unnerving. I was okay with trade and overthrowing our own government, but I didn't want to instigate an invasion from Drachma.

And now, they were about to start another round with the two alchemists, who had only just been reunited. Casper had seen them asleep and propped up together. And he had heard one of their conversations just after they were reunited. He had not gone in that time because their conversation had given him pause before even having the chance to enter- it had sounded so much like one of the many conversations he had had with his son.

Only last night had he overcome the hesitation to enter the room, and even then, he had not been able to ask what he wanted, only asking a pathetic 'why?' Irritation took the place of the confusion.

That State Alchemist doesn't deserve a son! He probably doesn't even think of the kid that way, and yet, here they are acting just like- just like everything I want back!

Casper collapsed, sitting on his bed, and his head fell into his hands.

He felt like weeping.

Damien strode into the cell once more, noting both Alchemists were sleeping. Without preamble, Damien struck Mustang on the side of the head with a hard kick. Mustang's head lolled, and while he partially woke, simultaneously, he was rendered semi-conscious. The next blow came from Damien's fist, which finished him, and Mustang slipped into unconsciousness.

Edward woke when Damien kicked Mustang, but sleep caused him to shake his head in confusion. When he saw Damien punch Mustang, he lunged forward, pulling against his restraint, but Damien only grabbed his throat and shoved Edward against the wall.

The two alchemists propping each other up in sleep had caused Damien's chest to tighten and squirm as a dull ache filled him, and disgust slowly took over.

Damien flicked his finger, and two men came into the room and restrained Edward, who began to thrash. Damien then leaned down and undid the ankle restraint.

"Take him out."

"What are you doing, you bastards?" Edward struggled against the men dragging him away from the unconscious Mustang.

"Mustang, wake up!" Edward wriggled his shoulders, attempting to dislodge the men's grip as he strained to see his superior officer. Flashes of being dragged away from Mustang in the snow crossed Edward's vision.

"Mustang!"

As Edward was being pulled through the door, he caught a glimpse of Damien's smile as he looked down at Mustang and then turned to follow them out.

Damien's smile caused Edward's veins to fill with icy dread. Edward dug his feet into the ground, and the men stopped just outside with a signal from Damien. Damien stopped in the door, blocking Edward's view of Mustang. He gripped Edward's face.

"Don't worry, it won't be as bad as the Flame's treatment, but I wonder what I can do to you to make him squirm? Maybe I'll find that I'm finished with him, hmmm?"

Edward jerked his face out of Damien's grasp, "you bastard!"

Damien turned and, pulling a gun from its holster, aimed it at Mustang.

"No!" Edward struggled again, "he's not even conscious, you coward."

Damien pulled the trigger, and the loud bang made Edward jump, his eyes widening, but the men only began to pull him back once more, Mustang no longer in sight.

"No!" Edward watched as Damien walked out and shut the door. Fighting, Edward bucked and thrashed but only managed to twist his shoulder.

"No!" Edward's face was pale, but his eyes were blazing.

Damien merely smiled. He had shot a blank, but he had no intention of letting Edward know that little fact.

Damien holstered the gun, and Edward tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

All this time, Mustang has been trying to protect me. All this time, he's been trying to help! And what have I done?

As the men dragged Edward around the corner at the end of the hall, Edward tried to fight again. He tried to pull the men back the way they came dragging his feet. The one thing he never thought he would call Colonel Roy Mustang spilled from his lips in a quiet subconscious whisper.

As soon as the word was uttered, Damien's face stiffened. No one else had heard, but Damien had, and that one word brought back such hallow anguish that he began to feel. It was different from the feeling of acceptance from the little followers he had gained by joining this rag-tag group of rebels. A group HE had whipped into shape. It was much deeper and much darker, and much more like something Damien would consider home- and despite the fact that the vile word burned, it was still so blissfully comfortable.

Damien followed them as they dragged Edward to the room where they had initially held Mustang and strapped the struggling boy down.

Damien patted Edward's leg, and Edward cursed loudly.

"I'll be back in a little bit. You should just calm down."

Edward's language merely grew more colorful and louder as the men exited the room and then shut off the light.

Leaving Edward panting, furious, and in the dark.

Alone.

Again.

A little while later, Damien made his way back to the cell where Mustang still sat, unmoving but slowly coming around.

Once inside and with a splash of cold water, Damien had the pleasure of watching Mustang jerk into awareness.

"You know, when we found the two of you, you unconscious in the snow, the kid was so focused on trying to wake you up, he never saw or heard us coming. Surprising him actually gave us quite a bit of information."

Mustang tried to follow and understood the gist of what was being said, but he had to shake his head to finally clear the cob-webs and give Damien his attention, glowering and seething. But Damien gave him no time to speak and ask about Edward, completely unaware that Edward thought he might be dead.

Damien leaned forward, "You see, one of my men was able to come up unnoticed from behind and restrain the kid, and while he was dragging him away, the kid fruitlessly kept calling for you. But it was when my man was dragging him into the car, just before the door closed, that we got the juiciest piece of information. The kid didn't call you Colonel or Mustang. He called you by your name, and just now, today, as we dragged him away, he was calling for you again. Hell, he didn't even call you Roy this time. He called you Dad."

The man smirked; for the first time in a long time, Damien felt something other than indifference or anger take over his being, but it didn't just pass in a fleeting moment.

It stayed.

The unsettling feeling of "hominess" overwhelmed him.

I can finally do something about it- I can finally destroy this thing, this concept of a 'fatherly' pretense.

The thought almost startled Damien, but as he continued, he knew that he could use this against Mustang and Edward. Caspar had already fallen with his son. But he could use this thing that made absolutely no sense and completely destroy the Alchemists, and he would enjoy every minute of it.

As Mustang listened, he felt the blood drain from his face and a sub-zero chill settle in his gut as his stomach dropped. As Damien continued, the chill only spread throughout Mustang, causing him to begin to shake imperceptibly. When Damien said that last word, what Edward had apparently had called him while being dragged away, it made him dizzy with the implications. His mind blanked for a moment as he reoriented himself.

No…, Mustang gritted his teeth.

As Damien came out of his reverie, he continued.

"Back then, in the snow, it must have been beginning since you are, after all, just his superior officer. Didn't you say that yourself? But here he was calling out for his superior, not by his title or surname, but by his given name.

"The kid was hoping to be saved, hoping you would stand up and save the day. But when we found you, you were just a useless bag of bones, unconscious and, quite frankly, dying of hypothermia. You may have escaped, but that didn't pan out quite so well, now did it? You almost died, and we saved you. Even if it was only to bring you back to have more fun, and now the kid is even more obvious about it. You've failed him, Colonel Roy Mustang, Hero of Ishval."

Damien's words dripped with venom, and the condescension was palatable. Damien laughed, and Mustang clenched his fist, and the chill began to dissipate.

"You might be pretending to be indifferent with some misguided attempt to save the boy. You think, if we think you don't care, he can't be used as leverage, right? Well, unfortunately for you, that cat is out of the bag because even if you don't care, the kid does. I don't think he even realized he called you Dad. It was so soft and quiet. But if you don't care, then all you're doing is betraying him by not trying to save him."

The chill that had spread throughout Mustang was now an inferno of rage. Every cell, every vein, every muscle burned with it.

How dare he!

The simple fact that Edward had called out for Mustang on two separate occasions while he was unconscious, hoping for help, pleading, it seemed, for Mustang to be alright despite all of their quarrels over the past year, and with the closeness gained over the last few days, made something snap inside Mustang.

And that something then clicked into place inside of Mustang. Most importantly, it did not even matter if Damien was lying.

Every fiber of Mustang's being and his whole mentality took a 180-degree turn. They say that no one just becomes a parent when they first have children, but that people have to learn how to be a parent when they finally do.

Edward, the brash hot-tempered youth who always managed to annoy and irritate him, who almost always was in some way angry with him, had called Mustang, of all people, Dad.

And thus, it was so.

Author's note

**Ahh, me, adding the second team- just to kill them off- so that Mustang and Ed can have another even that adds to their bonding. Aren't we glad I'm not in charge of the Universe? ***

*Yep, seventeen days, although we're now on the 18th at the end here- I even have a calendar listed out for our lovely Alchemists from the first day of their mission until the last day of the story.

Sorry I've been gone, and thank you to all who are still reading. I'm settling in my new home and job! YAY! So, hopefully, I'll be a bit more to a schedule.