Chapter 14: Shifting Hearts

Okay- one of the longest chapters yet, but this chapter starts in the morning and ends at night on the same day, so… it's all in one.

Mustang would be lying if he said he woke up feeling fine. No, he had woken up, lying on the floor, the chain that bound his leg still stretched taught from his rush to the door in a futile pursuit of Damien and subsequent collapse.

Mustang maneuvered his arms beneath him and pushed himself up onto his knees. His shirt pulled against his skin, where it was still wet from the water Damien had thrown at him earlier. One hand came up to clutch his aching skull, and the other remained on his knee, fingers digging into it until small spasms of pain laced their way up and down the abused limbs.

Slowly, Mustang scootched backward so he could lean up against the wall. The dim light overhead hung on its cord, still lit and casting shadows in the corners of the room. For a room that was almost perfectly square, it was disconcerting that a bare bulb on a cord hanging in the middle of the room could actually cast shadows, but the bulb was not strong enough to light the tiny room.

Mustang's eyes drifted to the shackle around his ankle and followed the chain to where it fastened to the wall. His eyes stayed there for a long time. He contemplated nothing at all, but at the same time, everything that had passed since he first woke up in the tiny room. When he had woken to find Edward lying bound on the floor, a small puddle of water beneath his head. When he had woken to find a shivering child who had not known if he was alive or not until he had been dumped in the room with said child.

I wonder what day it is. Is it time for more water? I need to keep track of time.

Mustang pushed a hand through his hair and groaned.

The mere thought of water caused Mustang to cough and taste the dryness of his lips, which were beginning to chap and crack. Mustang groaned again as his vision blurred for an undiscernible time. Despite his sitting position, he swayed and sagged further against the wall. Darkness edged his vision, the edges growing wider until everything went dark.

Elsewhere, Damien woke to another morning in his room. The paneled walls made the room feel taller this morning. Blinking, Damien tried to shake the sleep from his eyes. Today, he was feeling like his old self, and the mere thought of his actions the previous day, uncontrolled, hot, and defensive, was appalling in the waking moments of a new day. The distress and rebuke from Casper made Damien stiffen slightly. He had worked hard to gain the control he had here, and one slip-up, one bad day out of character, was going to put a chink in the armor he had built.

Damien swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Today he would put more of his plan into motion to make the two alchemists' suitable tools, whether they were carted off to Drachma or used as hostages for the government. He knew he had to move quickly now that the Drachma soldiers had killed the second group sent by the government, but he wanted to be sure to do the thing right. Otherwise, they really would fail.

At the same time, the Drachma leader stood by the compound's front door, on duty as a guard for the last hour of the night watch. The sun was cresting the horizon, and the brilliant reds gave him promise.

One more day, tomorrow, I learn if this Damien tells truth, and if yes, who these Alchemists are.

The wide smirk that stretched menacingly across his face made Maria, also on the last watch that night, shiver. She did not like the company of the Drachma soldiers. While initially, it seemed like a good idea, she was unsure whether the Drachma soldiers would actually help or if they were too invested in their gain and would compromise the rebels' mission.

Her thoughts turned to the younger alchemist. She had snuck a look before coming out to her watch, and the young boy had been moaning and tossing, at least as much as he could while strapped to an upright table, as he slept.

The one word that escaped him, barely audible just before she closed the door, had caused her heart to skip a beat and her hands to grow clammy – mom.

That one word, that one name, was said with such misery that she could not help but sympathize for the moment. She herself had lost family in the many crises her nation had fought throughout her life. As she left the young alchemist to take her shift on watch, she shook the feeling away. Yet, in the absolute silence with only her thoughts for company – in the light of the rising sun and with a feral grin marring the face of her 'companion' – she began to doubt once more.

Maria looked down at her clasped hands, elbows resting on her knees, and again considered her choices and what she, Logan, and Casper had discussed the day before.

Damien was not as calm, collected, and unshakable as he seemed, and below the surface, he might be the most dangerous threat to their objective, even more so than Drachma.

Damien strode out the door of his room and almost ran into Casper, who, apparently, had just left his own.

Casper did not flinch and greeted Damien with a casual good morning, just like every other. Casper did not want to arouse Damien's suspicions regarding his wavering opinion. On the other hand, Damien merely nodded and kept Casper in his peripheral vision as they made their way to the mess hall for breakfast.

"How did you sleep?"

Damien contemplated Casper's question for the beat of a moment before answering, "fine."

Casper followed Damien to a table after they grabbed a plate full of eggs and bread each. They ate in silence, but Casper gave Damien a pointed look once they were done.

"As we discussed yesterday, I want this rebellion to succeed as much as anyone else. However, in order for it to do so, we need both alchemists."

Damien's eyes narrowed, but Casper held up a hand.

"I know you know this. But, while I trust you to make plans for this operation, I am sure you have had a reason for everything," Casper paused, "especially concerning their treatment after their escape."

Casper took a deep breath, and Damien took advantage of the silence. "I do. They were able to escape from the compound despite being bound, having been given no food and very little water. Not only that, but they had been able to steal supplies."

Damien continued, "They are resourceful and cunning."

Casper gritted his teeth as he knew he was part of the reason they escaped in the first place by losing the key. Damien had very much impressed upon him the error of his ways. Casper had learned his lesson. There was no need for Damien to give him a scolding look.

Both men watched the other.

"I understand," Casper nodded. "However, we have kept them on the two-day schedule for water and given them food every so often. In addition, the older alchemist has been hurt far more this time around, and while he was given some treatment for his injuries, the wound to his knee from before and the others he received more recently have severely weakened him.

"At this point, I believe their conditions have deteriorated enough that giving them water, only water, every day would help keep their conditions from deteriorating too quickly from this point forward. We can keep them on the same food schedule, as it takes much longer to die of hunger than thirst."

"They won't die from thirst at the rate we give them water either," Damien rebutted.

"Not as quickly, but they are becoming too dehydrated. So, I propose this, let's ask our resident doctor." Casper leveled Damien with a pointed look. "He examined and treated the Flame Alchemist. If he thinks they can be given water every day without increasing their physical state, then let's give them water more frequently to the end of having them semi-conscious when we try to use them as hostages?"

Casper tried to keep the sarcasm from his tone. Damien continued to look on in apathetic indifference, then sighed in exasperation.

"Very well. If the doctor says they need more water to be useful when the time comes, we can give them water every day, but the only other concession I will make is to give them an additional meal a week only if all the portions are reduced. This way, they don't receive much more food, if any at all, but it will reduce the amount of time between meals. You're right. We cannot let their conditions deteriorate much further if they are to be of use as planned."

Casper's eyes widened. He had not been expecting Damien to acquiesce and give more. If spreading the food out over three instead of two days was more than asked for.

Damien cast Casper a sidelong glance as he stood, "of course, all this hinges on the doctor's assessment."

Casper nodded, "of course," and watched as Damien left the room.

As Casper was about to leave the mess hall, he saw Jimmy with two glasses on a tray making his way out of the kitchen.

The briefest of thoughts flitted through Casper's mind, and he found himself approaching Jimmy before he had entirely made a conscious decision to do so.

"Jimmy," the large man turned to him, and Casper smiled. "Why don't I take them their water today?" At Jimmy's almost confused look, Casper patted him on the arm. "Don't worry; I won't do anything."

Jimmy grunted, "wasn't worried," but the man placed the tray in Casper's outstretched hand and then, giving him another dubious glance, proceeded back into the kitchen for his breakfast.

Casper watched him go and then turned with determination to walk toward answers he wanted from the alchemists that had nothing to do with the mission. According to everyone else, he knew the answers to his questions were irrelevant, but not to him, not to Casper, they were not.

As soon as Casper entered the room, he handed Mustang the water, who took it gratefully, but cautiously. Casper did not meet his gaze and looked almost concerned.

Then, Casper turned to Mustang, and the words that exited his mouth almost caused Mustang to choke on the last gulp of water.

"Explain, explain why you became a state alchemist and your goals."

Mustang looked at Casper skeptically. His eyes searched the other man's face for any sign of deception. He was in the base of enemy rebels who had yet to ask any questions and kept them prisoner for over half a month.

Yet, the manner in which Casper asked his question had not sounded like an interrogation. Yet, Mustang was well aware of the group's incompetence – save for Damien, who he could deduce was running a tight ship to keep the rebels' goals moving forward.

It could be a ploy, but he looks like he really just wanted to know. Is he curious?

Mustang countered with his own question, "Why should I answer?"

"I'm… I'm just curious why someone would work for the government knowing the atrocities they commit."

Mustang considered Casper for a moment. He had been developing a profile for the man since he and Edward had been brought here, and of all the people, it seemed that Casper was the most malleable.

I could give him some semblance of an answer. It won't give them anything on the government, but it also wouldn't get back to Central. This one has always been the one I thought could be of the most use to us.

Mustang's eyes narrowed as he made his decision and answered, "to stop any further 'atrocities,' as you call them, from happening again."

Casper reared up, "how can you say that! I know how the military works. My son was a soldier! Or did you forget? I know you have to follow orders unquestioningly. I know what you did in Ishval. That's the problem!"

Capers' voice rose as he spoke, but Mustang looked on coolly and merely shrugged when Casper stopped. Casper reddened at Mustang's seeming indifference.

Casper almost stomped his foot in exasperation, "I cannot and will not tell you our plans, but you'd best not fight back. It will go better for you and the kid if you do."

Mustang fully directed his attention to Casper and growled, "Is that a threat?"

Casper gave Mustang a long hard look, "it's not a threat from me, but it is a warning, and maybe a hint as to what others here might do and what resources they might have called upon to do it."

Mustang observed Casper in silence. True to form, Casper was the one who was the most likely to be a trove of information. Casper's discomfort was more than telling that the state of the leadership amongst the rebels was growing more precarious. Furthermore, his warning also spoke to a danger that Mustang was not considering in light of Damien's reference to the rebel's 'friends' who had killed Bone and the second team.

"That's all I have to say for now. I need to go give the kid water." Casper stood abruptly, took the second glass of water with him, and exited the cell.

Mustang's eyes followed him until the door stood between them.

Outside, Casper sighed with a grimace but pushed himself away from the door, proceeding down the hall, around the corner, and to the other room.

He paused outside the door for only a moment, opened the door to the pitch blackness within, and thought he caught a quickly cut-off whimper.

Casper blinked for a moment and then, leaving the door open, proceeded deeper into the room.

Dammit, if the light hasn't been on this whole time, then turning it on now will only cause the kid more discomfort.

As he approached, he saw the light from the door reflect off the golden orbs of the younger alchemist's eyes.

On the other hand, Edward had been fitfully sleeping until the sudden burst of light from the door had jarred him awake. He watched as the silhouette of Casper drew nearer, his eyes eventually fixing on the single glass of water.

"Guess it's better for you now that you only have to bring one person water." The sarcasm in Edward's voice was tangible. Edward felt a sinking feeling in his gut, everything felt heavy, and he turned his head so he would not have to look at Casper, who now stood next to him. "Why don't you turn on the light?"

Casper sighed softly, "Because I don't want to hurt your eyes."

Edward's head snapped over to look at him, "hurt my eyes. Now you're worried about hurting me?" Casper flinched at Edward's words and refrained from stepping back as Edward continued.

"Now you're worried about hurting me? After you came in all the time when we were first here and lost your temper and took it out on Mustang."

Casper flinched again, not him too.

Edward continued to glare, and his voice rose. "You would even have taken it out on me if not for Mustang constantly baiting you to hurt him instead."

"I know." Casper interrupted.

Edward's eyes widened, "then why?"

"Because I think things are going too far now. What they did to Mustang after we brought you two back…" now it was Edward's turn to flinch… "was nothing short of torture."

Edward's face scrunched. "You didn't even want anything. You don't. Why didn't you ask questions? Are we…" Edward gasped… "am I here just so that I can't warn the government? If you didn't want us to find you, then you shouldn't have brought us here in the first place!"

Edward was gasping, and Casper stood there silently for a moment.

"Drink the water." He brought the glass to Edward's lips. As the table was still in a near upright position, he wasn't worried about spilling.

Edward turned his head to the side, "no."

"You should drink."

"You're more talkative than the one who normally comes in."

"Jimmy," Casper nodded. "Yeah, I would be. Please drink. It will be better in the long run."

Edward begrudgingly opened his mouth and drank the water. Once he was done, he turned his head away from Casper in dismissal.

Casper left with only one backward glance as he closed the door.

Damien stood up from his desk, stretching his arms as he looked down at the many notes and scraps of paper that littered the top. If all went according to plan, they could give the Flame alchemist to the Drachma soldiers and keep the Fullmetal Alchemist with them to use as bait for the Amestrian soldiers.

Damien was confident that they would not abandon one of their precious human weapons so easily. Even sending Flame with the Drachma soldiers could work in their favor, too, if they played their cards right. The Amestrian government would want Flame back, and he, Damien, could use his knowledge of the situation to his advantage. The rest of the rebels were leaving the Drachma soldiers to him. So, of all of them, he would be the most valuable to Amestris in terms of retrieving their precious weapon and gaining knowledge about Drachma if it came to that. It was always best to have backup plans, after all.

Damien nodded in satisfaction.

Now, it's time to mentally prepare Flame for returning Fullmetal to him. Then, if those two really value each other as they seem to, Flame will instinctively draw Fullmetal into the proper mental state for me to utilize.

Damien turned, without a second thought, and headed for Mustang.

The door to the cell creaked open as Damien entered, and Mustang watched through narrowed eyes. Mustang thought of Casper's uncertainty and compared it to the indifference Damien was once again showing.

The question is, will Damien keep the mask on this time?

An emotionally unstable captor was the most dangerous. Mustang found the changes between Casper and Damien disconcerting. While Casper had initially been the unstable one and was still an undecided factor, he was far more sympathetic to his and Edward's predicament. In contrast, Damien, the person who had initially come across as the most stable, had shown a hidden instability, and that was more terrifying than the outwardly unstable person you knew would lash out.

Mustang opened his eyes fully and lifted his head as Damien closed the door. He did not want to give Damien an excuse to dampen his clothing again or lash out like he had before he took Edward. The bruise on his temple throbbed at the thought, and he glared up at Damien.

Damien, as he had in the beginning, did not react.

"So, you should know, Fullmetal thinks you're dead."

The manner-of-fact way in which he made that statement had Mustang blinking in shock. Come again?

Mustang blinked once more, "what?"

While Mustang would have liked to think he kept his voice calm, he knew he had not, and Damien kept his face impassive as he watched Mustang's eyes widen at the declaration.

"Fullmetal thinks you are dead." Damien paced to the back of the small room, keeping Mustang in the corner of his eye but not directly facing him.

Mustang watched Damien's profile and knew precisely what Damien was trying to accomplish. By not facing him, by pacing like a superior giving a directive or scolding an unruly subordinate, he was asserting his position. It was a power play.

"Why," Mustang ground out the question.

Damien turned and walked toward the front of the cell, clearly looking down at Mustang from the corner of his eye.

"Because, after knocking you out, yesterday – almost to the hour," Damien turned to face Mustang and leaned over slightly, "and once he was out the door, I turned and shot a blank into the room."

The blood drained from Mustang's face, and he felt prickles run up his spine.

"Don't worry. He'll know soon it was a ruse, but I'll leave him in the dark for just a little bit more, figuratively and literally. I'll see him later."

Damien turned, paced to the door, and, holding the door open, looked back at Mustang, "Do try to calm him once he comes back. He won't be of any use to me if he's too… jittery."

And Mustang was left alone, reeling from the shock of the latest revelation.

Edward's been under the impression that I'd been shot – for almost twenty-four hours.

Casper watched as Damien rounded the corner to the hall where Edward was being kept and then moved slowly to the door Damien had exited.

Casper hesitated outside the door. He had been here earlier, but he had to talk to Mustang one more time. Slowly he slipped inside.

Mustang looked up at Casper without moving an eyebrow.

Casper looked into his eyes and, for a moment, saw the same stoic calm he had once seen in Damien. Yet, Casper could also see the difference between the two – where Damien was cruel and uncaring. Mustang seemed understanding.

Casper looked Mustang up and down once more and noted the tension and the light pallor of Mustang's face.

Knowing Damien, he probably just talked to him about the kid; Casper grimaced. His thoughts spun back to the kid restrained in the other room and his subdued demeanor, punctuated with bouts of anger from earlier that day.

"Why do you think that boy looks at you the way he does?"

"He's not a boy."

Casper's eyes flared, but Mustang cut him off.

"He's seen more horrors than most grown men, even those in the military. Yes, he is young. Yes, he still needs more experience. Yes, he is still immature in many respects. But do not discredit him by calling him a child. Not after everything he's seen. Not after he raised his little brother mostly by himself, not after everything has happened here; you have no right."

Mustang ground out the last statement with all the resentment in him, and Casper could only barely maintain eye contact with Mustang's sharp gaze. Mustang tried to control himself. After Damien's revelation, he was angry and frustrated. He did not want to have to deal with Casper twice in one day.

It was only after a beat that Mustang looked down; contemplation etched in every feature of his face.

Casper took a deep breath, "Just answer, why does he look to you when you're a human weapon," Casper almost thought he saw Mustang flinch, "of the military? Just what are you doing to that bo… young man?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing?"

"What do you intend for him in the military? What are you to him?"

"I cannot answer that. I didn't meet him until about two years ago, but for the most part, I was acting as his commanding officer. Just like with any other soldier."

"But he doesn't see you that way."

Mustang met Casper's eyes for the briefest of moments, and Casper continued. "He argues with you and rebuffs you, but then he watches your back like a Hawk.

"We were watching you in Egmuridcu, and later I saw how he looked at you before you told him to run after your escape. He looked back, you know, while you were fighting, but decided to keep running." Casper began to pace, "Although apparently, he decided to come back."

Casper stopped briefly to shoot a glare at Mustang, "you didn't see his face when Jimmy pulled him away from you. He didn't even look around. He didn't even look at who was pulling him back. You were the only person he was looking at, called for. Even if he acts like he hates you, he really cares."

This time, Mustang did flinch.

"Those kids don't want anyone to die… He would have come back for anyo…."

"NO!" Casper cut him off. "It wasn't just that… I know. I had a son, remember? That young man didn't come back for you because of his morals."

Mustang looked at him, "I know. Even if Damien lied about Full… Edward calling me dad, I can't just ignore possibility now, can I?"

Casper gave Mustang a strange look. "What do you mean he called you Dad?"

Mustang gave Casper a steady look, "the last time Damien was here, before his most recent visit, he told me, Ed… Fullmetal had called me dad as they dragged him away this last time."

He also told me the kid thinks I'm dead, but if you don't know that either... Mustang's face pinched, and he massaged the bridge of his nose.

Casper's eyes widened, and Casper felt as though someone was suffocating him. His thoughts turned again to the young alchemist he had spoken to that morning.

Mustang sighed, "Edward is my subordinate, and if I want him under my command and not some other officer's, I cannot go off acting like his father. He won't want that, even if he did call me dad. It just means I have to be all the more careful," Mustang sighed, releasing the hold on his nose and looked at Casper, "and patient and maybe give a few more subtle pushes, unless..." Mustang sighed again, "this is going to make my life all the more…."

Mustang groaned… all it takes is that bastard telling me Edward called me Dad and informs me that the kid thinks I'm dead, and I get all… like this in front of this one. My training was better than this.

Mustang's vision blurred for a moment, and he missed Casper's following statement.

A flicker of a sad smile passed over Casper's face as he whispered, "welcome to fatherhood."

Mustang took a steadying breath and tried to clear the fog from his head. He suppressed another groan and looked up at Casper, who was fidgeting.

Casper bit his lower lip but seemed to come to a decision, stating, "They have him in the room you were in before."

Mustang's eyes widened at the admission, first due to concern and second as he was not expecting the forthright way in which Casper told him.

"They haven't done," Casper paused, "much yet."

Mustang ground his teeth, and Casper expecting an outburst, quickly added, "he probably has some fractured ribs. It was only one hit…."

Mustang surging to his feet had Casper stumbling back.

"Just one hit? Just one hit to someone who is restrained so that they cannot fight back or defend themselves, and on someone half your size!"

Casper raised both hands in defense, "Hey, I never said it was me or that I was okay with it!"

"Yet it happened, and regardless of whether you did it or not, it still happened," Mustang bit out.

"I told Damien I wasn't okay with it…."

"And you were perfectly okay with beatings before." Mustang swayed slightly but grounded himself.

Casper looked away and sighed, "Yes, yes, I know. You're the third to remind me in less than twenty-four hours. I know! I was angry! I was angry about my son, and I was angry that you had a child with you…."

"He is not…." Mustang leaned back against the wall and ran a hand through his hair.

"I know now that he's not a child, but at the time, I saw him as one. Regardless of what he's been through, he's still what? Eleven?"

Mustang almost corrected him but stopped himself. He did not want to give the enemy any more information; enough damage had been done. Even if Casper seemed to be having second thoughts, he could easily decide to go along with their ridiculous rebellion. Then that information could be used against him and Edward. He had already said too much just from Damien's and Casper's recent revelations.

Casper bit his lip, "Look, I've been talking with some others, and we think this is going too far. We never signed up to hurt kids. We just want to make this nation a safer place for everyone – and to stop all the wars."

Caper paused, thinking back on Logan's expression. While the young man had gone after Edward, he had been soundly defeated in their fight, but Logan was a good man, and despite that, he didn't hold a grudge. Logan didn't think that their prisoners, even if the enemy, should be treated so poorly. Casper was well aware Logan was far better than he ever was. Casper did not want Logan to die for this cause. He wanted him to survive for a better tomorrow.

Mustang watched Casper as he fell into his contemplative silence.

"If you want this nation to be better, don't do it with violence. There are other ways to improve it." Mustang stood tall, "improve it from the inside so that those who wish to keep it the same can't find fault with you. So, they can't argue that you're a threat, as much as possible at least." Mustang shook his head.

Casper looked at him, but the sound of the door opening caused him to jerk around. The doctor stood there surprised.

Casper smiled, "just trying to get some information."

The doctor nodded and came in, "I need to examine his condition," he nodded to Mustang.

Mustang looked on warily.

But the doctor approached and merely did a preliminary check. Then turned to Casper, "considering both of their conditions, we can give them water every day, but I see no need to increase the food intake just yet."

Mustang's eyes widened in surprise, but Casper merely nodded as the doctor left.

"Water every day?"

"Yes, we can't have your conditions deteriorating even more."

Mustang grunted, "You realize Damien probably doesn't care."

"He does enough to want you in good enough condition."

"And yet he was off to see Edward after he left."

Casper flinched, "I know. I'll check on Fullmetal."

Mustang merely glared, and Casper, feeling uncomfortable, backed out of the room.

A little while before, as soon as he left Mustang, Damien walked into the room where Edward was being kept using only a flashlight to light the way. He looked down on the boy, still strapped to the table and still in a mostly upright position. His face was scrunched, sweat rolled down his face – it appeared he was having a nightmare.

"Mom…"

Damien paused for a moment. He was not fond of children and thought they cried too much. His little sister certainly had. He tried to block the oncoming image of his own mother, whose gentle looks had turned to looks of fear as the years wore on, as he had grown up, as he had become the person she cowered away from until his father had kicked him out.

Damien sneered and mumbled, "you too, eh? But I bet she still loved you in the end."

Damien motioned behind him, and the doctor entered.

"You can assess him while he's sleeping, right?"

The doctor gave him a sideways glance and hesitantly nodded, "it is not ideal, but I'm just assessing for water and food, right?"

Damien merely nodded.

The doctor slipped a needle into Edward's arms, as he and Damien had discussed before entering. Edward flinched but relaxed as the drug took effect. The doctor then lowered the table so that Edward was lying down. Then, he proceeded to check his ribs and wrap them loosely.

"At this time, I would say at least the boy needs more water and food. The automail takes quite the toll on the body, so I'd like to give him a saline drip for now."

Damien nodded, "it won't interfere with later?"

The doctor shook his head. "So long as I remove it beforehand, it won't interfere with what you want."

Damien looked at him sideways, "but?"

"But it would be best to give the kid more food, and he might need another saline drip."

Damien shrugged but looked displeased with the assessment, "you're finished?"

The doctor nodded.

"Fine," Damien turned his attention to Edward. "Go check on the other one. Then come back here in an hour."

The doctor backed out and went to check on Mustang, wholly unprepared to find Casper there but intrigued nonetheless.

A few hours later, Edward stirred. Damien had left for a while to talk with the Drachma soldiers, again promising them to take them in to see the alchemists in the morning. When Damien returned to Edward's room, Edward was again shifting against the restraints, a pinched and pained expression across his face.

The doctor followed. He looked at Edward and back at Damien and briefly considered mentioning that Casper had gone to see Mustang but held back.

Again, as per their conversation, the doctor checked Edward's condition and, determining him lucid enough, gave him a dose of one of the hallucinogens he had given to Mustang.

Edward tensed and began to whisper. The doctor cringed. He did not like the military any more than anyone else in their group. Yet, to do this to a child, who already seemed to sleep poorly from nightmares, did not sit well.

Damien, noting his discomfort, told him to leave. The doctor grimaced and complied. But Damien stayed to watch, unmoving, indifferent, until bored, he decided to leave too.

Meanwhile, Edward tossed, pulled at the restraints, shouted, and murmured as his darkest secrets and worst memories reared like poisonous snakes, ready to strike. And strike they did.

Alphonse clanked into the office in the late afternoon as Hawkeye was finishing some of the final paperwork necessary to prepare the team to move out to the north.

As soon as Hawkeye heard the shift of metal from down the hall, she glanced around the room and knew that the other had heard it too.

"What are we going to say?" Fuery whispered.

Hawkeye turned her eyes to the door, "As much of the truth as we are allowed."

"That's not much given the nature of our work," Havoc mumbled, chewing on the end of his unlit cigarette.

Hawkeye nodded as the door to the office opened.

"Good afternoon, Al!" Hawkeye nodded to the young boy.

Havoc and Fuery gave him their greeting as well, as Alphonse bowed slightly, also greeting them in turn.

"Where are Lieutenant Breda and Officer Falman?" Alphonse asked cordially.

"They have things they need to do," Hawkeye answered.

Alphonse merely nodded, "Have you heard anything about brother?"

Hawkeye took a deep breath, "We're about to go find out what happened. Everyone is doing everything they can. Ed and Mustang will be back soon."

Alphonse met Hawkeye's gaze, and the unspoken "if all goes well" was as audible as her spoken words.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Hawkeye knew the question was coming. Alphonse was not a part of the military and therefore was not privy to the details of the mission, but he was the brother of the Fullmetal Alchemist and had helped Edward on his missions, so she was pushing boundaries by discussing the mission with him.

"Alphonse, we appreciate your offer, but this right now is a military affair. We will go and find your brother and Mustang. Can you be ready to help with anything your brother might need when we get back?"

Al initially lost momentum, but with Hawkeye's suggestion, perked up, "I could have things ready for Ed to relax for a little bit. DO you think I could get permission to check some reference books out of the library?"

Hawkeye smiled, "I can do that for you."

"Thank you! Then I can do some research, and we'll be able to go on our next mission as soon as brother is able!"

Hawkeye bent over her desk and wrote out the permission, "here you go, Al."

Alphonse took the note and, bowing, left the room. Everyone knew that Edward might not be able to go out readily once he returned, but they could hope.

They could always hope.

Darkness was settling over the land as three people gathered in a small room, cautious, so as not to be seen.

"Wait, the Fullmetal kid called Flame Dad?" Maria looked at Casper aghast.

Casper nodded, "I think rather than becoming more like a commanding officer, Fullmetal started to see him more like a father."

Logan chewed on his lip as he watched the two older adults talk.

Logan cleared his throat, "Some of the other guys were talking. The ones who helped take Fullmetal to the room. They said he was struggling and may have said something after Damien shot the blank, but they didn't hear what. I guess Damien did."

Casper blinked and then shook his head, "run that by me one more time, Logan. Damien shot a blank into the room?"

Logan nodded a slightly confused expression on his face, "yeah. The guys said Damien said it was something about preparing Fullmetal and Flame for being useful. He probably wants to 'surprise' Fullmetal with Flame really being alive. But after these hallucinogens…." Logan trailed off as a sudden memory of Edward thrashing flitted through his mind. They had checked on Edward before retreating to Casper's room once more to talk about what was going on in their own compound.

Casper was as pale as the snow that covered the ground outside, and Maria, watching Casper through worried eyes, thought he might faint.

"That's… that's what the kid meant…."

"What?" Maria barked as her fingers ground into the table, her teeth clenched.

"When I took the kid water this morning, he said something about only needing to bring one person water. I thought he just meant that I only needed to carry one glass into that room, but he must have meant this. Oh, gosh," Casper dragged one hand across his face. "I don't know if Mustang knows. He only mentioned that Damien told him Edward called him dad."

Maria and Logan exchanged looks as Casper called the prisoners by their names, but both wore grim expressions.

"He's a kid, but he is part of the military. I don't know about the dad thing, though…." Maria spoke hesitantly.

"I know!" Casper ground out.

Logan nodded, "he's a kid, but he is also a soldier. But he's not the real enemy, right?" Logan stated while looking at Casper.

Casper nodded, "I was so angry about Simon that I forgot. I forgot that the reason we want to stop the Amestrian government is because I want kids to grow up safe. So that we don't have kids dying from military aggression or from," Casper took a deep breath, "or from being in the military itself. We cannot become that which we are fighting, and the way we're going now, we are."

"Mustan… I mean, Flame says that there are people who work to change it from the inside. Or at least he implied it by saying one should work from the inside, but I don't know what to think."

"Sounds a bit optimistic," Maria huffed. Logan merely noncommittally grimaced.

"We need to do something, but I don't think we can continue as we have been." Casper looked at Maria and Logan, a hand running through his hair.

Marian looked at her hands, and Logan kept his gaze steady on Casper's face.

"You're right. We need to do something, but what?"

Logan's question hung in the air as each person looked at the others in turn, and then all looked away in contemplative silence.

x

Let me know what you think!

The interesting fact corner: hey, might as well. There is more than the freezing point of tears to be interested in.

While doing some research, I discovered the terms Hyperalgesia and Allodynia. Apparently, hyperalgesia is a state in which pain is heightened or where something that generally causes pain causes more due to increased sensitivity.

On the other hand, there is allodynia, where something that should not cause pain does so, such as clothing or a cotton swab rubbing against skin. -The fascinating thing.

Both are neuropathic pains, generally a result of disease or damage to the nervous system. The damage can result from things like long-term overuse of opioids, chemotherapy, inflammation, damage to the spinal region, and (long-term) anxiety and stress.

Any-who, it doesn't look like either can be induced in the short term, but if anyone knows more, feel free to comment!

I pulled most of this info from academic journals (one from Harvard, which was an interesting read) and sites like WebMD. Always good to take things with a grain of salt and cross-reference it.