Edward was not going to the vet.

There was just no way in hell he would let himself be degraded like that. Had he not already been humiliated enough? Did the universe really need to throw even more shit at him?

Damn that woman for telling Bastard to bring him to the vet. Damn Bastard for listening to him. And damn the other weird guy for naming him Butter.

Fucking Butter.

He'd heard Bastard scheduling the appointment over the phone, so he was running out of time. He'd have to figure out how to communicate before he got stuck with needles or, god forbid, neutered. But despite being an alchemist, Bastard didn't have any chalk lying around - probably in a drawer somewhere, though Edward didn't know where to begin looking and even then, he wasn't sure if he could manage to open one without hands. He'd made an attempt on one of the kitchen drawers, just to see if he could get it open - he doubted he'd be keeping chalk in his kitchen, but he had to see if he could open drawers in the first place - but he wasn't able to get it. Bastard had noticed him pretty quickly and picked him up (the audacity!), moving him back to his living room. He'd kept a closer eye on Ed since.

Without anything to draw a circle with, he couldn't transmute. Couldn't write anything to prove his humanity, either. He wished there was a way to transmute without having to draw a circle. That'd be nice, he thought, but he knew it was just wishful thinking.

He was running out of ideas. He knew he'd have to figure out something soon, though.

He was not about to go to the vet.

Mustang hadn't expected to spend his morning chasing a cat around his house. Seriously, why was that thing so fast? It was a little humiliating, if he was honest. If the damn thing could just hold still for two seconds…

They needed to leave for Butter's vet appointment. It was nothing that should've been too difficult, right? He'd honestly been grateful for the excuse to take a day off and avoid the mountain of paperwork waiting on him, even if he knew he'd just have to do it later. He should've known better.

"Come on! We're going to be late!" Mustang grumbled as he just narrowly missed grabbing Butter. The cat stopped to shoot him a glare before continuing the chase.

Maybe they should've used cats at the academy, Mustang mused idly as he followed the current bane of his existence down the hall. This is definitely a better workout than anything we ever did there.

Butter skidded to a stop as he reached the end of the hall. Mustang was suddenly grateful he'd left all the doors in the hall closed. He picked up the pace before the cat had time to react, leaping toward him before scooping him up in his arms. "Gotcha," he breathed out in relief.

Getting back to his feet was hard with his arms full of angry cat, but he managed. He really wished he would stop putting up such a fight, though. He was afraid he was gonna end up dropping the poor thing.

"Come on, it's for your own good," he said as he fumbled to get his front door open. Another task made difficult by the struggling cat, but he somehow managed.

It was when he went to lock the door that he screwed up. He reached for his keys, internally begging Butter to just hold still as he tried to hold him with one arm. He had no such luck. The cat managed to free himself, leaping from his arms and racing through the grass.

Shit, Mustang thought as he once again took off after the cat. Not again. The cat had a head start, and now that they were out in the open instead of the confines of his house, Mustang was worried he'd never catch him again.

The cat raced near the street, stopping at a large patch of dirt created by a recent dry spell. Mustang found himself stopping, too, eyebrows knitting in confusion as the cat ran his paw through the dirt in a methodical manner. What the hell is he doing?

Mustang made his way over to the patch of dirt, walking instead of running as he had been. Butter finished running his paw through the dirt, moving out of the way but no longer attempting to run.

He froze as he looked down at the cat's work. His eyes widened, scanning over it over and over again, as if that would somehow change what he was seeing. But no, there was no denying what he saw in front of him. Letters, writing out a message clear as day.

I AM HUMAN

Edward smirked upon seeing the shocked look on Bastard's face. Success. A wave of relief washed over him, alongside the pride. He had finally managed to communicate with someone who could actually help him. And before he could drag him to the vet. Thank god for that.

Bastard stared down at the writing before looking up at Ed. "You…what?" the idiot stammered. Edward narrowed his eyes, inclining his head to the writing. "How?"

Ed moved to right below his first message. Transmutation, he wrote. Man, writing's a lot harder with paws, he thought.

"A chimera," the man breathed. Then, his eyes widened as if something just occurred to him. "Wait, someone made a human chimera?" Edward nodded. He had a lot more he wanted to say, but he couldn't speak and would take way more effort to write than he cared to put in. He could curse out Tucker when he got back to normal. Because he would.

There was no way he'd live like this forever.

"…Did you do this to yourself somehow? Or…?" Bastard trailed off. Edward shook his head, offended that he'd even ask. What kind of idiot would he have to be to do something like that?

Rage burned in the man's eyes. "Who?" he questioned. That was easy enough. Edward wrote out Tucker's name, and Bastard's eyes got impossibly wider. "The Sewing Life Alchemist? A state alchemist did this to you?" Edward nodded, tail flicking in annoyance. What did he think?

Bastard ran a hand down his face, sighing. "It'll take some time to gather evidence, unfortunately. Especially since I'm the only one who knows." He grimaced. "And I'm not so sure bringing anyone else into this would be a good idea. Who knows what the government would do with a successful human chimera?"

Bastard was probably right. Looks like this would be even harder than Ed thought. "Well, we can still focus on getting you back to normal," he continued. "It'll take some time and a lot of research, but we can do it. I'm a state alchemist for a reason, after all," the man smirked, and oh, Bastard may be helping him, but that didn't stop Edward from wanting to wipe that smirk off his stupid face. He hoped there was at least some merit to his cockiness.

"Ah, I almost forgot. Looks like we're gonna be stuck together for a while, so we should probably at least know each other's names, right?" The man said, and yeah, that was fair. "I'm Colonel Roy Mustang. Just call me Mustang." Of course he felt the need to introduce himself with his rank. Ed wasn't even military; what would he need that for? He really was a smug bastard. Ed rolled his eyes.

He moved further down the dirt patch to write his name. He was running out of space, but he still had a bit of room left. Edward Elric, he wrote out, underlining "Ed" to emphasize that that was what he wanted Mustang to call him.

"Ed, huh? Nice to officially meet you." He inclined his head toward the door. "Seeing as I don't have work today, we might as well get started researching, hm?" Mustang began walking to his door, Edward eagerly trailing behind him. Finally, he could start working on getting back to normal. A grin spread across his face as something else occurred to him. It probably looked weird on a cat, but he didn't care.

He would finally get to stop being called Butter.