FMA Big Bang Fic: The Mirror Shatters 2/11
Title: The Mirror Shatters
Author: evil_little_dog
Genre: Alternate Reality/Dystopia
Rating: Teen
Word Count: Appx. 40,750
Characters/Pairings: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Yao Ling, Winry Rockbell, Olivia Armstrong, Gracia Hughes, Elicia Hughes, Chris Mustang, Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye, OC’s.
Warnings: Alternate reality post the capture of Gluttony, manga-verse.
Summary: Roy still remembered Edward’s words, that it was their mess to clean up, and the way those three boys had waved him off with Riza, Knox and the injured girl.
Disclaimer: I promise I will put Arakawa-sensei’s toys back, just as soon as I’m done playing with them.
A.N. 1: Thanks to Yoporock and Sweetnessnarose for their beautiful art. Please be sure to tell them how you feel about their work!
A.N. 2: Thanks to cornerofmadness and ishte for the first readthroughs. Any mistakes beyond what they pointed out are mine alone.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Checkpoints were always the worst part of any travel.
Winry handed over her papers for the fourth time in as many hours to the lieutenant, standing in the aisle of the passenger car, his body swaying slightly with the motion. “You’re traveling to Central City, Miss Rockbell?” he asked, studying her papers as if they might contain clues to what happened to President Fuhrer Bradley. Winry could’ve told him but that information was classified and on a need to know only basis. She hadn’t really needed to know but, having been there at the time of his demise, harrowing though it had been, she did know precisely what happened to him. Those nightmares still woke her up.
“Yes, sir.” Winry tried to be polite but, to her own ears, she just sounded frightened. Before the question could be asked, again, she went on, speaking clearly to keep her voice from trembling. “I have a customer in Central City. I’m an automail mechanic.” As if that last couldn’t be read on her papers but sometimes, people overlooked that bit of information. She didn’t want to take that chance, wanting this interview to be over with. She understood why she needed to travel to Central, but each trip she took made her sick and anxious.
“Customer, eh?” The lieutenant looked over the top of her papers at her, his eyes so pale, they almost seemed colorless. “Anyone I know?” He smirked, licking his narrow lips.
Winry smiled back, though her grin was far more brittle than amused. “President Fuhrer Olivia Armstrong.” Internally, she winced. Bringing up her clients’ names wasn’t something she normally did. It usually led to more questions she’d prefer to not answer and Winry dealt with the military as little as necessary.
The lieutenant blinked at that name, eyes suddenly widening in realization then narrowing sharply. “President Fuhrer Armstrong?”
Winry nodded, holding out her hand for her papers. She hoped her hand didn’t shake.
Sputtering, the lieutenant opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid, like, ‘But you’re just a girl!’ He looked into her face, actually acknowledged her for the first time since he’d asked for her papers, and whatever he saw there made him back off. “Here you are, Miss Rockbell.” Handing her papers back, he touched his cap. “Have a pleasant trip.”
Winry tucked her papers away, settling in her seat. Knotting her fingers together, she stared at the seatback in front of her, trying to calm her nervous stomach with deep breaths. The lieutenant hadn’t been forward, he’d just done his job. She understood the need for the checkpoints. It didn’t mean she had to enjoy them. Drachma still made sorties against Briggs, in the north. The Xingese encroached from the east and the desert. That didn’t change the fact that people had lives to live and jobs to do and Winry was determined to make the modifications that President Fuhrer Armstrong requested then return to Rush Valley, where she could take care of her regular customers.
The scenery outside the window wasn’t enough to distract her. Winry studied the farmland the train carried her through, the fallow fields and snug houses reminding her of Rezembool. Snow dusted the land, covering it more thickly the farther north she traveled. By the time the train reached Central City, Winry could feel the cold weather outside seeping through the passenger car’s exterior. Her jacket did little to stave it off and Winry reminded herself that she should’ve thought better before dressing to travel. A medium weight dress would be fine for a winter in Rush Valley, while it was downright chilly in Central. To make matters worse, she’d left a day and a half early and no one would be waiting for her at the station. Taxi cabs were being hailed right and left by the time she’d disembarked the passenger car, passed through the final checkpoint and collected her luggage; a tool kit, her personal bag and the carrying case for President Fuhrer Armstrong’s new hand.
Winry knew she could call Armstrong’s office and have someone pick her up but that meant she’d have to wait in the chilly station for an indeterminable amount of time. Not only that, she’d have to deal with the military. While Armstrong’s name usually commanded respect, who knew what the President Fuhrer was scheduled to do today and, unless Winry managed to get hold of someone who knew her name personally, her request might not be taken seriously.
The crowd dwindled down to a few passengers and the people who worked at the station and on the locomotive. Winry didn’t pay any attention to the tenders as they loaded up for the next leg of their journey, though she did spare a glance at the engineer as he checked and oiled the huge wheels that moved the locomotive. A part of her itched to go over and talk to the man but she restrained the fifteen year old girl she used to be, turning instead to find a lone taxi cab idling near the curb. Winry raised her hand and her voice, calling to the driver, who stepped out of his vehicle at her hail.
“If you could drive me to Mayflower Street.” Winry helped load her things into the boot of the cab, knowing that Gracia and Elicia Hughes would be more than happy to take her in for the few days she planned on being in Central City.
“No problem, missy.” The cab driver touched the brim of his hat as he closed the door to the back seat, climbing in the front seat. “Are you in town for business or pleasure?” he asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
Winry cupped her chin in her hand, looking out at the city through her window. The late morning sunlight gleamed off the snow, still pristine white, by the sides of the road. “Business. I’ve only ever made it to Central City and it supposed to be a vacation one time.”
“Really? When was that?”
“A little over three years ago, now.” Winry didn’t mind these questions, the simple give and take of passing the time. Courtesy, she knew, went a long way.
“Have you been to Central City since then?” The reflection of the driver’s grey eyes met hers.
“Yes, one of my customers lives here. You could say I’m almost a revolving door citizen.” Winry’s smile flattened as she said it. Armstrong had suggested she move to Central City but Winry didn’t like it here enough to make it her home. She wanted to return to Rezembool, even as close as it was to the Eastern Border and the battleground, but Granny insisted she remain in Rush Valley and finish her training. Winry wasn’t sure there was much more training she could do but she followed her grandmother’s wishes, at least for now. Some day, the fighting would be done and she could go wherever she wanted.
Mayflower Street remained an upscale neighborhood, the houses and yards well kept. Even in the cold weather, there were people outside, tending to the steps and sidewalks, shoveling snow and sweeping them clean. Winry felt some of the tension in her shoulders drain away at the sight of the fenced-in yard and the three-story house. The driver helped unload her luggage and carry it up the walk to the front door, where Winry used the brass knocker. The door opened just a few minutes later, a woman blinking out at her, her expression clearing and a smile brightening her face.
“Winry! Please come in.” She gestured for the driver to bring the luggage inside, the two women hugging briefly before Winry turned to pay the driver.
“Have a nice stay, missy,” he told her, tipping his hat. “And if you ever want to consider Central City as pleasure, you call my company and ask for Frankie. I’ll make sure you have a good time.”
“I will.” Winry’s smile faded as the door closed and she turned to Gracia. “I know I should’ve called but,” she began, only to have her words stopped by Gracia’s headshake.
“It’s fine, Winry. You know you always have a place to stay here. Come in, you must be frozen! Did you forget that it was winter?” She smiled teasingly, indicating Winry should follow her. “I’ll make some tea to warm you up. Is it too early for lunch? I could make you a sandwich, or there’s some leftover quiche from last night.”
“Quiche would be wonderful.” Leaving her things in the entryway, Winry followed Gracia into the house. “Elicia must be at school?” She didn’t hear the little girl, who usually was right behind her mother or even opening the door herself.
“She is. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?” Gracia led the way into a cozy kitchen with the southern facing windows, setting a kettle on a burner and lighting it. “It’s been so quiet during the day with her gone. I need to find something to do with my time than read and knit and listen to the news reports on the radio.” She waved a hand at the table, motioning for Winry to sit while she got the tea ready. “The hospital is always looking for volunteers but I’m afraid I have no stomach for blood. Even wrapping bandages…well, I could do that, I suppose. But what about you? Why are you in Central a day early?”
“Mr. Adams cancelled his appointment for yesterday morning.” Winry watched as Gracia went to the ice box to fetch cream and a plate of quiche. “Since I didn’t have anyone else scheduled, I decided to come ahead.” Wriggling her toes in her boots, she felt like she was starting to thaw now that she was inside this warm house. “I thought it’d be nice to spend some extra time with you and Elicia, with Memorial Day coming up.”
Gracia’s hand hesitated in reaching for a tin of tea, and Winry saw the other woman’s fingers tremble before she plucked the container from the cabinet. “I appreciate you thinking of us like that,” Gracia said solemnly.
Winry turned her attention to the windows, giving Gracia her space. Some things still cut like a knife, no matter how much time had passed. Winry knew she’d need support getting through Memorial Day, too. Sure, she’d go to the Memorial commemorating the men and women lost during the coup. She’d lay her flowers down on that cold rock, leaving them to wither with so many other bouquets, and she’d stand stony-eyed while President Fuhrer Armstrong made her yearly speech about the progress of the country and how all of it had come about from the losses of the men and women who protected it. And afterward, she’d go back to Rush Valley and pretend she wasn’t affected, all over again, by the names chiseled in that piece of granite.
The scent of tea brought her back to the present, the steaming pot set in the middle of the table, two cups and a bowl of sugar with two spoons and saucers joining it. “It’ll take a few minutes to steep,” Gracia was saying as she handed a plate with a wedge of quiche on it to Winry. “I hope you like the tea. Roy got it for me - he wouldn’t say where,” she laughed softly as she sat down, “so I have the feeling it’s a Xingese tea. He said Riza was partial to it.”
Smiling faintly in response, Winry cut off the point of the quiche wedge. She had spoken briefly to the Mustangs in the past and had even been extended an invitation to their wedding. Winry hadn’t been sure why; though she admittedly admired Riza Hawkeye-Mustang, she didn’t know the woman or the man she had married very well. She’d wondered if it was because of Ed and Al; a sort of strange balm to someone’s conscience, and had declined attending, though she’d sent a gift that Mr. Garfiel assured her would be in good taste. The thank you note she’d received had been a lot less impersonal than Winry had expected and opened a tentative communication between her and the Mustangs.
The tea finished steeping, Gracia poured them each a cup, offering Winry the sugar bowl. “There was a tremor yesterday.”
That was definitely something different. “Like an earthquake?”
Gracia nodded. “There was no report of bombings, though.” Relief laced her voice and Winry couldn’t help but bob her head in understanding. While Central City was located, true to its name, at the very heart of Amestris, the threat still existed that someone with a grudge might get past all the checkpoints and blockades to the center of the country. “It was on the news report last night but Elicia and I felt it, too, during her bath. The water in the tub made waves and the cabinet on the wall rattled.”
“That sounds scary.” Winry wondered what it might’ve felt like.
“It really wasn’t, more curious than anything.” Gracia waved off any concern with a soft chuckle. “Elicia couldn’t wait to tell everyone at school about it.”
“I’ll bet her classmates will have stories, too.” Winry smiled at the image in her head, of Elicia talking to kids her age. “Granny told me about a minor earthquake back home once, a tremor, like you said. It shook some of Granny’s tools off the workbench. They made so much noise falling, Granny thought someone was breaking into the house. She grabbed the pipe wrench that she always kept next to her bed and ran downstairs. Granny woke up a little while later, at the bottom of the stairs. She said that it was like the steps shook out from under her.”
They shared a laugh at that and spent some time catching up, sipping tea and nibbling on cookies. The chill in Winry’s body slowly thawed, though she still wanted to change into something warmer. After all, they wouldn’t be spending all of their time in the kitchen and would probably need to fetch Elicia from school. And tomorrow, Winry thought, she’d contact President Fuhrer Armstrong to set up a time for automail maintenance, just in time for Memorial Day.
X X X
“So we’ve made it home?” Ling shielded his eyes against the midday sun with both hands, staring at the city below.
“This is it.” Edward could barely contain his glee. “You saw what was left of that building, those furrows. Those are from Gluttony’s attacks.”
“It means that’s Central down there.” Alphonse hugged himself, whether to stay warm or because he was excited, Edward couldn’t tell. Regardless, Edward slung an arm around his brother’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “And Central means we have friends who can help us get to Rezembool and you back to Xing.”
Art by Sweetnessnarose
The corner of Ling’s mouth tilted up in a lopsided grin. “Are you sure you still have friends?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Letting go of Alphonse, Edward turned on Ling.
Ling spread his hands. “The last time we were here, your superior was going to confront his superior about the homunculi, yes?” His face became grim. “What if he lost?”
Beside Edward, Alphonse sucked in his breath. “Brother,” he whispered.
Waving off their doubts, Edward shook his head. “The bastard wouldn’t die. He’d come out of this smelling like a rose. He’s the hero of Ishval, remember?”
“Still,” Ling was unconvinced. “Maybe we should do some reconnoitering first, yes? Make sure it’s safe to enter the city?”
Grumbling, Edward agreed, especially after Alphonse insisted that Ling could be right and it was better to be safe than sorry, blah blah blah. All he really cared about was getting to someplace where Al could be out of the weather and he had the chance to make a couple of phone calls. Three years was a long time but Edward knew Pinako Rockbell would tell him where her granddaughter was - after she yelled at him - and Mason could tell him how to get in touch with Master Izumi. Maybe they’d even forgive him once they knew that Al had his body back and they were finally home. Then again, both Izumi and Winry were likely to beat him within an inch of his life before offering any mercy. Al, at least, would probably only get it from Izumi. Winry liked Alphonse too much to beat him up like she did Edward. Then again, it could depend on how hurt she felt, and Winry certainly had a temper. She might decide that Al deserved some wrench thumping, too.
Edward ignored the little niggle at the actual idea of Winry beating on someone else - hell, Al had said she’d beaten up Ling before - and Ling corroborated. Well, it was Winry’s decision anyway - she was the woman with the wrench. She might decide to clobber all of them.
“So, we’ll reconnoiter,” Alphonse was saying, “and then what?”
“That’s what we’d like to know.” The strange voice made Alphonse’s eyes widen. Before they could move, someone said, “Ah-ah; turn around slow. Hands up where we can see ‘em.” Edward stiffened, his mouth tightening at the metallic clicks behind them.
Obeying - but only after Al hissed - Edward faced the man and the woman, his hands about shoulder level. He could almost feel Ling’s affable smile and relaxed a little bit, spying the black cable sweaters that he’d seen Havoc and Hawkeye wearing before. “Hey, this is great!”
“Halt!” the woman barked, pistol pointed at Edward’s face, and he jerked his hands back up.
“These soldiers don’t seem nearly as friendly as your colonel,” Ling mumbled.
“Speak up.” The man took a step closer, beady eyes narrowed. “What was that you said, spy?”
“Spy?” Shock made Alphonse repeat the word. “Who’s a spy?”
“Yeah, you’re jumping to conclusions here.” Edward started to lower his hands again only to hear a sharp warning from the woman. Rolling his eyes, he snarled, “We’re not spies.”
“Yeah? You’ve got one of them with you and he’s not in chains.” The man’s pistol indicated Ling.
Something sick and cold wormed its way into Edward’s stomach at that gesture. Beside him, he heard Alphonse gasp in reaction while Ling, to his left, stiffened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He wished these two were in the traditional military uniforms. Knowing their ranks would give him an edge.
“Means that anyone with slant eyes like his and not in chains is likely to be spying on the good people of Amestris.” The man’s teeth flashed briefly. “So we’ll be taking you in.”
Edward sighed loudly, rolling his eyes toward the grey sky. He scratched at his head with his left hand, catching a glimpse of Al’s gaze flickering his way. They dove at the same time, Edward shoving Ling as he went down, rolling as he hit the ground to slam his palms together and then into the snow. The flash, like blue lightning, crackled and surged. A pair of earthen hands snatched the two soldiers off the ground, forcing their arms and weapons above their heads.
“Alchemists!” the man snarled though something in his expression told Edward that his shock outweighed his fury.
Thumbing his nose, Edward got to his feet to dust the snow off his clothing. “I hate it when someone points a gun at me. What do you think, head into town? See what sort of trouble we can stir up?”
“Brother.” Alphonse gave him a firm look. “They could freeze before we get back.”
“They knew the consequences when they came out here.” Edward waved off his brother’s concern. “You two are soldiers, right? You knew it was a possibility you might die when you confronted us. It’s all part and parcel of being a dog of the military.” He stepped closer to the two hands containing the soldiers. “You do what they say even when it might get you killed.” Teeth gleaming in a feral smile, Edward plucked the pistols out of their hands. “Did you drive out here?”
The man’s expression was dumbfounded. “What?”
“Yes.” The woman spat out, obviously discomfited by the loss of her weapon.
Edward handed one of the pistols to Ling, who gave it a once over. “And where are the keys?”
“Why should we tell you?” Her glare reminded Edward of Winry, though that’s where the resemblance ended.
“Well, my brother thinks it’s a bad idea if I leave you out here to freeze but I don’t really like to take prisoners. They’re usually a lot of work, trying to escape, that sort of thing.” Edward scratched the back of his head again.
“You’re not going to kill them.” Alphonse folded his arms, lower lip jutting out.
“Then my brother starts arguing about what I should do and what I shouldn’t do.” Edward shrugged eloquently, turning his back on the soldiers and giving Alphonse a wink. “I mean,” he drawled, “leaving you two out here is a great idea, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Freezing to death is a cruel fate.” Ling rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would be kinder to simply execute them.”
The man blanched and the woman blinked hard, though neither spoke. Edward silently commended them on that, though he let his grin get even wilder.
“You’re both terrible.” Alphonse snatched the pistols from Edward and Ling, emptying the clips and scattering the bullets in the snow. “They’re just doing their jobs.” He studied the soldiers, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Even if they probably would’ve tried to kill us if we didn’t do what they said.”
“Let’s not forget that,” Edward muttered, earning a glare from his little brother.
“So what do we do with them?” Ling nodded at the prisoners. “Now that you won’t let us kill them.”
“No killing.” Alphonse wagged a finger at Ling, who smiled brightly in response. “Though we really shouldn’t leave them here to freeze, either.” He absently tossed the pistols into a snowdrift and wrapped his arms around himself. “Brrr. I forgot how cold it gets here.”
“We sure as hell aren’t taking them with us.” Edward didn’t like Al shivering that way. “I say we leave them here. Once we’re in town, we can call somebody to come get ‘em.” He didn’t like the way the pair glanced at each other, the expressions on their faces worrisome. “What, is this the scut patrol? If we call in your whereabouts, no one’s gonna come?”
The man started to speak, cutting off abruptly at the woman’s wordless growl. He glared back at her, a staring contest that left neither the victor though the man turned away first, his dark eyes narrowed at the trio in front of him. “You’re not even getting into town with him,” his chin jerked at Ling, “and if your papers aren’t in order - ”
“Stand down!” the woman shouted, cutting him off effectively.
Edward pressed his gloved knuckles against his mouth, considering, then shrugged abruptly. “Eh. Don’t worry. Somebody’ll come to get you.” He turned, waving over his shoulder, hearing Ling and Al following, though his brother seemed to be reluctant. At least he waited until they were out of earshot for the soldiers before breaking silence.
“Brother, what did they mean, papers?”
“I guess Ling’s right, Al.” Edward stared grimly at the city laid out below them. “Amestris has changed.”
The walk to town was pretty much what Edward expected - long and tiring. He hated walking through snow. The cold always made his automail ports ache, not that he’d say anything. Al was suffering, too, clutching his jacket tight around him. Ling didn’t seem affected at all, lucky bastard. Edward noticed their friend taking little forays ahead and behind, checking things out. At first, it had irked him, but Edward realized Ling was looking out for them. They’d been through a hell of a lot in the other world and it would be a crock if they made it back to this one only to get captured or worse by the Amestrian military.
By the time they’d reached the slums of Central City, Edward was ready to call a halt for the day. He knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to stop here; too close to the hillsides they’d hiked down. “And we left a trail for anyone to follow,” he muttered, looking back.
“W-we could erase it with a-alchemy.” Alphonse’s teeth chattered and his nose was bright red. He needed to get out of the cold. They all did, and into some warm, dry clothes.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Alchemy could get rid of the trail but only as far as Edward could see it. It wouldn’t blot it out as far back as they’d walked. And, since this slum lay at the bottom of the hill, it probably wasn’t worth the energy he’d have to invest in wiping the snow clean. Not to mention, a transmutation that size would create a pretty big light show, especially at dusk - and that, more than anything, made up Edward’s mind for him. “Eh, we’ll risk it. They can follow us to this place but beyond that,” he shrugged.
Alphonse wrinkled his nose and Edward wondered if his little brother had caught a whiff of what smelled like an open sewer. “We kind of stand out.” He indicated their clothing; their appearance in general.
Edward thought they were lucky it was so cold. No one wanted to be outside in this. If it was warmer, someone might’ve signaled an alarm. Then again, the slums could be the safest place for them for the moment. If only they could find a place to rest and get warm before they started into Central. It’d be good if they could talk to someone about these papers but that would just send up a signal flare that Edward didn’t want to deal with.
“So, we go where no one will notice in the dark” Ling’s smile stretched across his face when the brothers turned to him and he tilted his head up, pointing at the roofs of the ramshackle buildings.
Not realizing he’d wrinkled his nose just as Alphonse had, Edward blew out his breath in a huff, fogging the air around his face. “It’ll be slick.”
Ling mimed clapping his hands together. “Make spikes in your shoes.”
“And you’re supposed to be a genius, Brother,” Alphonse muttered, earning a glare from Edward.
“All right.” He shook off his irritation. “Let’s get moving before someone does see us.” Edward patted his brother on the shoulder, gestured at Ling to come along, and led them quickly through the narrow streets.
X X X
Chapter Three
Author: evil_little_dog
Genre: Alternate Reality/Dystopia
Rating: Teen
Word Count: Appx. 40,750
Characters/Pairings: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Yao Ling, Winry Rockbell, Olivia Armstrong, Gracia Hughes, Elicia Hughes, Chris Mustang, Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye, OC’s.
Warnings: Alternate reality post the capture of Gluttony, manga-verse.
Summary: Roy still remembered Edward’s words, that it was their mess to clean up, and the way those three boys had waved him off with Riza, Knox and the injured girl.
Disclaimer: I promise I will put Arakawa-sensei’s toys back, just as soon as I’m done playing with them.
A.N. 1: Thanks to Yoporock and Sweetnessnarose for their beautiful art. Please be sure to tell them how you feel about their work!
A.N. 2: Thanks to cornerofmadness and ishte for the first readthroughs. Any mistakes beyond what they pointed out are mine alone.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Checkpoints were always the worst part of any travel.
Winry handed over her papers for the fourth time in as many hours to the lieutenant, standing in the aisle of the passenger car, his body swaying slightly with the motion. “You’re traveling to Central City, Miss Rockbell?” he asked, studying her papers as if they might contain clues to what happened to President Fuhrer Bradley. Winry could’ve told him but that information was classified and on a need to know only basis. She hadn’t really needed to know but, having been there at the time of his demise, harrowing though it had been, she did know precisely what happened to him. Those nightmares still woke her up.
“Yes, sir.” Winry tried to be polite but, to her own ears, she just sounded frightened. Before the question could be asked, again, she went on, speaking clearly to keep her voice from trembling. “I have a customer in Central City. I’m an automail mechanic.” As if that last couldn’t be read on her papers but sometimes, people overlooked that bit of information. She didn’t want to take that chance, wanting this interview to be over with. She understood why she needed to travel to Central, but each trip she took made her sick and anxious.
“Customer, eh?” The lieutenant looked over the top of her papers at her, his eyes so pale, they almost seemed colorless. “Anyone I know?” He smirked, licking his narrow lips.
Winry smiled back, though her grin was far more brittle than amused. “President Fuhrer Olivia Armstrong.” Internally, she winced. Bringing up her clients’ names wasn’t something she normally did. It usually led to more questions she’d prefer to not answer and Winry dealt with the military as little as necessary.
The lieutenant blinked at that name, eyes suddenly widening in realization then narrowing sharply. “President Fuhrer Armstrong?”
Winry nodded, holding out her hand for her papers. She hoped her hand didn’t shake.
Sputtering, the lieutenant opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid, like, ‘But you’re just a girl!’ He looked into her face, actually acknowledged her for the first time since he’d asked for her papers, and whatever he saw there made him back off. “Here you are, Miss Rockbell.” Handing her papers back, he touched his cap. “Have a pleasant trip.”
Winry tucked her papers away, settling in her seat. Knotting her fingers together, she stared at the seatback in front of her, trying to calm her nervous stomach with deep breaths. The lieutenant hadn’t been forward, he’d just done his job. She understood the need for the checkpoints. It didn’t mean she had to enjoy them. Drachma still made sorties against Briggs, in the north. The Xingese encroached from the east and the desert. That didn’t change the fact that people had lives to live and jobs to do and Winry was determined to make the modifications that President Fuhrer Armstrong requested then return to Rush Valley, where she could take care of her regular customers.
The scenery outside the window wasn’t enough to distract her. Winry studied the farmland the train carried her through, the fallow fields and snug houses reminding her of Rezembool. Snow dusted the land, covering it more thickly the farther north she traveled. By the time the train reached Central City, Winry could feel the cold weather outside seeping through the passenger car’s exterior. Her jacket did little to stave it off and Winry reminded herself that she should’ve thought better before dressing to travel. A medium weight dress would be fine for a winter in Rush Valley, while it was downright chilly in Central. To make matters worse, she’d left a day and a half early and no one would be waiting for her at the station. Taxi cabs were being hailed right and left by the time she’d disembarked the passenger car, passed through the final checkpoint and collected her luggage; a tool kit, her personal bag and the carrying case for President Fuhrer Armstrong’s new hand.
Winry knew she could call Armstrong’s office and have someone pick her up but that meant she’d have to wait in the chilly station for an indeterminable amount of time. Not only that, she’d have to deal with the military. While Armstrong’s name usually commanded respect, who knew what the President Fuhrer was scheduled to do today and, unless Winry managed to get hold of someone who knew her name personally, her request might not be taken seriously.
The crowd dwindled down to a few passengers and the people who worked at the station and on the locomotive. Winry didn’t pay any attention to the tenders as they loaded up for the next leg of their journey, though she did spare a glance at the engineer as he checked and oiled the huge wheels that moved the locomotive. A part of her itched to go over and talk to the man but she restrained the fifteen year old girl she used to be, turning instead to find a lone taxi cab idling near the curb. Winry raised her hand and her voice, calling to the driver, who stepped out of his vehicle at her hail.
“If you could drive me to Mayflower Street.” Winry helped load her things into the boot of the cab, knowing that Gracia and Elicia Hughes would be more than happy to take her in for the few days she planned on being in Central City.
“No problem, missy.” The cab driver touched the brim of his hat as he closed the door to the back seat, climbing in the front seat. “Are you in town for business or pleasure?” he asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
Winry cupped her chin in her hand, looking out at the city through her window. The late morning sunlight gleamed off the snow, still pristine white, by the sides of the road. “Business. I’ve only ever made it to Central City and it supposed to be a vacation one time.”
“Really? When was that?”
“A little over three years ago, now.” Winry didn’t mind these questions, the simple give and take of passing the time. Courtesy, she knew, went a long way.
“Have you been to Central City since then?” The reflection of the driver’s grey eyes met hers.
“Yes, one of my customers lives here. You could say I’m almost a revolving door citizen.” Winry’s smile flattened as she said it. Armstrong had suggested she move to Central City but Winry didn’t like it here enough to make it her home. She wanted to return to Rezembool, even as close as it was to the Eastern Border and the battleground, but Granny insisted she remain in Rush Valley and finish her training. Winry wasn’t sure there was much more training she could do but she followed her grandmother’s wishes, at least for now. Some day, the fighting would be done and she could go wherever she wanted.
Mayflower Street remained an upscale neighborhood, the houses and yards well kept. Even in the cold weather, there were people outside, tending to the steps and sidewalks, shoveling snow and sweeping them clean. Winry felt some of the tension in her shoulders drain away at the sight of the fenced-in yard and the three-story house. The driver helped unload her luggage and carry it up the walk to the front door, where Winry used the brass knocker. The door opened just a few minutes later, a woman blinking out at her, her expression clearing and a smile brightening her face.
“Winry! Please come in.” She gestured for the driver to bring the luggage inside, the two women hugging briefly before Winry turned to pay the driver.
“Have a nice stay, missy,” he told her, tipping his hat. “And if you ever want to consider Central City as pleasure, you call my company and ask for Frankie. I’ll make sure you have a good time.”
“I will.” Winry’s smile faded as the door closed and she turned to Gracia. “I know I should’ve called but,” she began, only to have her words stopped by Gracia’s headshake.
“It’s fine, Winry. You know you always have a place to stay here. Come in, you must be frozen! Did you forget that it was winter?” She smiled teasingly, indicating Winry should follow her. “I’ll make some tea to warm you up. Is it too early for lunch? I could make you a sandwich, or there’s some leftover quiche from last night.”
“Quiche would be wonderful.” Leaving her things in the entryway, Winry followed Gracia into the house. “Elicia must be at school?” She didn’t hear the little girl, who usually was right behind her mother or even opening the door herself.
“She is. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?” Gracia led the way into a cozy kitchen with the southern facing windows, setting a kettle on a burner and lighting it. “It’s been so quiet during the day with her gone. I need to find something to do with my time than read and knit and listen to the news reports on the radio.” She waved a hand at the table, motioning for Winry to sit while she got the tea ready. “The hospital is always looking for volunteers but I’m afraid I have no stomach for blood. Even wrapping bandages…well, I could do that, I suppose. But what about you? Why are you in Central a day early?”
“Mr. Adams cancelled his appointment for yesterday morning.” Winry watched as Gracia went to the ice box to fetch cream and a plate of quiche. “Since I didn’t have anyone else scheduled, I decided to come ahead.” Wriggling her toes in her boots, she felt like she was starting to thaw now that she was inside this warm house. “I thought it’d be nice to spend some extra time with you and Elicia, with Memorial Day coming up.”
Gracia’s hand hesitated in reaching for a tin of tea, and Winry saw the other woman’s fingers tremble before she plucked the container from the cabinet. “I appreciate you thinking of us like that,” Gracia said solemnly.
Winry turned her attention to the windows, giving Gracia her space. Some things still cut like a knife, no matter how much time had passed. Winry knew she’d need support getting through Memorial Day, too. Sure, she’d go to the Memorial commemorating the men and women lost during the coup. She’d lay her flowers down on that cold rock, leaving them to wither with so many other bouquets, and she’d stand stony-eyed while President Fuhrer Armstrong made her yearly speech about the progress of the country and how all of it had come about from the losses of the men and women who protected it. And afterward, she’d go back to Rush Valley and pretend she wasn’t affected, all over again, by the names chiseled in that piece of granite.
The scent of tea brought her back to the present, the steaming pot set in the middle of the table, two cups and a bowl of sugar with two spoons and saucers joining it. “It’ll take a few minutes to steep,” Gracia was saying as she handed a plate with a wedge of quiche on it to Winry. “I hope you like the tea. Roy got it for me - he wouldn’t say where,” she laughed softly as she sat down, “so I have the feeling it’s a Xingese tea. He said Riza was partial to it.”
Smiling faintly in response, Winry cut off the point of the quiche wedge. She had spoken briefly to the Mustangs in the past and had even been extended an invitation to their wedding. Winry hadn’t been sure why; though she admittedly admired Riza Hawkeye-Mustang, she didn’t know the woman or the man she had married very well. She’d wondered if it was because of Ed and Al; a sort of strange balm to someone’s conscience, and had declined attending, though she’d sent a gift that Mr. Garfiel assured her would be in good taste. The thank you note she’d received had been a lot less impersonal than Winry had expected and opened a tentative communication between her and the Mustangs.
The tea finished steeping, Gracia poured them each a cup, offering Winry the sugar bowl. “There was a tremor yesterday.”
That was definitely something different. “Like an earthquake?”
Gracia nodded. “There was no report of bombings, though.” Relief laced her voice and Winry couldn’t help but bob her head in understanding. While Central City was located, true to its name, at the very heart of Amestris, the threat still existed that someone with a grudge might get past all the checkpoints and blockades to the center of the country. “It was on the news report last night but Elicia and I felt it, too, during her bath. The water in the tub made waves and the cabinet on the wall rattled.”
“That sounds scary.” Winry wondered what it might’ve felt like.
“It really wasn’t, more curious than anything.” Gracia waved off any concern with a soft chuckle. “Elicia couldn’t wait to tell everyone at school about it.”
“I’ll bet her classmates will have stories, too.” Winry smiled at the image in her head, of Elicia talking to kids her age. “Granny told me about a minor earthquake back home once, a tremor, like you said. It shook some of Granny’s tools off the workbench. They made so much noise falling, Granny thought someone was breaking into the house. She grabbed the pipe wrench that she always kept next to her bed and ran downstairs. Granny woke up a little while later, at the bottom of the stairs. She said that it was like the steps shook out from under her.”
They shared a laugh at that and spent some time catching up, sipping tea and nibbling on cookies. The chill in Winry’s body slowly thawed, though she still wanted to change into something warmer. After all, they wouldn’t be spending all of their time in the kitchen and would probably need to fetch Elicia from school. And tomorrow, Winry thought, she’d contact President Fuhrer Armstrong to set up a time for automail maintenance, just in time for Memorial Day.
X X X
“So we’ve made it home?” Ling shielded his eyes against the midday sun with both hands, staring at the city below.
“This is it.” Edward could barely contain his glee. “You saw what was left of that building, those furrows. Those are from Gluttony’s attacks.”
“It means that’s Central down there.” Alphonse hugged himself, whether to stay warm or because he was excited, Edward couldn’t tell. Regardless, Edward slung an arm around his brother’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “And Central means we have friends who can help us get to Rezembool and you back to Xing.”
Art by Sweetnessnarose
The corner of Ling’s mouth tilted up in a lopsided grin. “Are you sure you still have friends?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Letting go of Alphonse, Edward turned on Ling.
Ling spread his hands. “The last time we were here, your superior was going to confront his superior about the homunculi, yes?” His face became grim. “What if he lost?”
Beside Edward, Alphonse sucked in his breath. “Brother,” he whispered.
Waving off their doubts, Edward shook his head. “The bastard wouldn’t die. He’d come out of this smelling like a rose. He’s the hero of Ishval, remember?”
“Still,” Ling was unconvinced. “Maybe we should do some reconnoitering first, yes? Make sure it’s safe to enter the city?”
Grumbling, Edward agreed, especially after Alphonse insisted that Ling could be right and it was better to be safe than sorry, blah blah blah. All he really cared about was getting to someplace where Al could be out of the weather and he had the chance to make a couple of phone calls. Three years was a long time but Edward knew Pinako Rockbell would tell him where her granddaughter was - after she yelled at him - and Mason could tell him how to get in touch with Master Izumi. Maybe they’d even forgive him once they knew that Al had his body back and they were finally home. Then again, both Izumi and Winry were likely to beat him within an inch of his life before offering any mercy. Al, at least, would probably only get it from Izumi. Winry liked Alphonse too much to beat him up like she did Edward. Then again, it could depend on how hurt she felt, and Winry certainly had a temper. She might decide that Al deserved some wrench thumping, too.
Edward ignored the little niggle at the actual idea of Winry beating on someone else - hell, Al had said she’d beaten up Ling before - and Ling corroborated. Well, it was Winry’s decision anyway - she was the woman with the wrench. She might decide to clobber all of them.
“So, we’ll reconnoiter,” Alphonse was saying, “and then what?”
“That’s what we’d like to know.” The strange voice made Alphonse’s eyes widen. Before they could move, someone said, “Ah-ah; turn around slow. Hands up where we can see ‘em.” Edward stiffened, his mouth tightening at the metallic clicks behind them.
Obeying - but only after Al hissed - Edward faced the man and the woman, his hands about shoulder level. He could almost feel Ling’s affable smile and relaxed a little bit, spying the black cable sweaters that he’d seen Havoc and Hawkeye wearing before. “Hey, this is great!”
“Halt!” the woman barked, pistol pointed at Edward’s face, and he jerked his hands back up.
“These soldiers don’t seem nearly as friendly as your colonel,” Ling mumbled.
“Speak up.” The man took a step closer, beady eyes narrowed. “What was that you said, spy?”
“Spy?” Shock made Alphonse repeat the word. “Who’s a spy?”
“Yeah, you’re jumping to conclusions here.” Edward started to lower his hands again only to hear a sharp warning from the woman. Rolling his eyes, he snarled, “We’re not spies.”
“Yeah? You’ve got one of them with you and he’s not in chains.” The man’s pistol indicated Ling.
Something sick and cold wormed its way into Edward’s stomach at that gesture. Beside him, he heard Alphonse gasp in reaction while Ling, to his left, stiffened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He wished these two were in the traditional military uniforms. Knowing their ranks would give him an edge.
“Means that anyone with slant eyes like his and not in chains is likely to be spying on the good people of Amestris.” The man’s teeth flashed briefly. “So we’ll be taking you in.”
Edward sighed loudly, rolling his eyes toward the grey sky. He scratched at his head with his left hand, catching a glimpse of Al’s gaze flickering his way. They dove at the same time, Edward shoving Ling as he went down, rolling as he hit the ground to slam his palms together and then into the snow. The flash, like blue lightning, crackled and surged. A pair of earthen hands snatched the two soldiers off the ground, forcing their arms and weapons above their heads.
“Alchemists!” the man snarled though something in his expression told Edward that his shock outweighed his fury.
Thumbing his nose, Edward got to his feet to dust the snow off his clothing. “I hate it when someone points a gun at me. What do you think, head into town? See what sort of trouble we can stir up?”
“Brother.” Alphonse gave him a firm look. “They could freeze before we get back.”
“They knew the consequences when they came out here.” Edward waved off his brother’s concern. “You two are soldiers, right? You knew it was a possibility you might die when you confronted us. It’s all part and parcel of being a dog of the military.” He stepped closer to the two hands containing the soldiers. “You do what they say even when it might get you killed.” Teeth gleaming in a feral smile, Edward plucked the pistols out of their hands. “Did you drive out here?”
The man’s expression was dumbfounded. “What?”
“Yes.” The woman spat out, obviously discomfited by the loss of her weapon.
Edward handed one of the pistols to Ling, who gave it a once over. “And where are the keys?”
“Why should we tell you?” Her glare reminded Edward of Winry, though that’s where the resemblance ended.
“Well, my brother thinks it’s a bad idea if I leave you out here to freeze but I don’t really like to take prisoners. They’re usually a lot of work, trying to escape, that sort of thing.” Edward scratched the back of his head again.
“You’re not going to kill them.” Alphonse folded his arms, lower lip jutting out.
“Then my brother starts arguing about what I should do and what I shouldn’t do.” Edward shrugged eloquently, turning his back on the soldiers and giving Alphonse a wink. “I mean,” he drawled, “leaving you two out here is a great idea, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Freezing to death is a cruel fate.” Ling rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would be kinder to simply execute them.”
The man blanched and the woman blinked hard, though neither spoke. Edward silently commended them on that, though he let his grin get even wilder.
“You’re both terrible.” Alphonse snatched the pistols from Edward and Ling, emptying the clips and scattering the bullets in the snow. “They’re just doing their jobs.” He studied the soldiers, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Even if they probably would’ve tried to kill us if we didn’t do what they said.”
“Let’s not forget that,” Edward muttered, earning a glare from his little brother.
“So what do we do with them?” Ling nodded at the prisoners. “Now that you won’t let us kill them.”
“No killing.” Alphonse wagged a finger at Ling, who smiled brightly in response. “Though we really shouldn’t leave them here to freeze, either.” He absently tossed the pistols into a snowdrift and wrapped his arms around himself. “Brrr. I forgot how cold it gets here.”
“We sure as hell aren’t taking them with us.” Edward didn’t like Al shivering that way. “I say we leave them here. Once we’re in town, we can call somebody to come get ‘em.” He didn’t like the way the pair glanced at each other, the expressions on their faces worrisome. “What, is this the scut patrol? If we call in your whereabouts, no one’s gonna come?”
The man started to speak, cutting off abruptly at the woman’s wordless growl. He glared back at her, a staring contest that left neither the victor though the man turned away first, his dark eyes narrowed at the trio in front of him. “You’re not even getting into town with him,” his chin jerked at Ling, “and if your papers aren’t in order - ”
“Stand down!” the woman shouted, cutting him off effectively.
Edward pressed his gloved knuckles against his mouth, considering, then shrugged abruptly. “Eh. Don’t worry. Somebody’ll come to get you.” He turned, waving over his shoulder, hearing Ling and Al following, though his brother seemed to be reluctant. At least he waited until they were out of earshot for the soldiers before breaking silence.
“Brother, what did they mean, papers?”
“I guess Ling’s right, Al.” Edward stared grimly at the city laid out below them. “Amestris has changed.”
The walk to town was pretty much what Edward expected - long and tiring. He hated walking through snow. The cold always made his automail ports ache, not that he’d say anything. Al was suffering, too, clutching his jacket tight around him. Ling didn’t seem affected at all, lucky bastard. Edward noticed their friend taking little forays ahead and behind, checking things out. At first, it had irked him, but Edward realized Ling was looking out for them. They’d been through a hell of a lot in the other world and it would be a crock if they made it back to this one only to get captured or worse by the Amestrian military.
By the time they’d reached the slums of Central City, Edward was ready to call a halt for the day. He knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to stop here; too close to the hillsides they’d hiked down. “And we left a trail for anyone to follow,” he muttered, looking back.
“W-we could erase it with a-alchemy.” Alphonse’s teeth chattered and his nose was bright red. He needed to get out of the cold. They all did, and into some warm, dry clothes.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Alchemy could get rid of the trail but only as far as Edward could see it. It wouldn’t blot it out as far back as they’d walked. And, since this slum lay at the bottom of the hill, it probably wasn’t worth the energy he’d have to invest in wiping the snow clean. Not to mention, a transmutation that size would create a pretty big light show, especially at dusk - and that, more than anything, made up Edward’s mind for him. “Eh, we’ll risk it. They can follow us to this place but beyond that,” he shrugged.
Alphonse wrinkled his nose and Edward wondered if his little brother had caught a whiff of what smelled like an open sewer. “We kind of stand out.” He indicated their clothing; their appearance in general.
Edward thought they were lucky it was so cold. No one wanted to be outside in this. If it was warmer, someone might’ve signaled an alarm. Then again, the slums could be the safest place for them for the moment. If only they could find a place to rest and get warm before they started into Central. It’d be good if they could talk to someone about these papers but that would just send up a signal flare that Edward didn’t want to deal with.
“So, we go where no one will notice in the dark” Ling’s smile stretched across his face when the brothers turned to him and he tilted his head up, pointing at the roofs of the ramshackle buildings.
Not realizing he’d wrinkled his nose just as Alphonse had, Edward blew out his breath in a huff, fogging the air around his face. “It’ll be slick.”
Ling mimed clapping his hands together. “Make spikes in your shoes.”
“And you’re supposed to be a genius, Brother,” Alphonse muttered, earning a glare from Edward.
“All right.” He shook off his irritation. “Let’s get moving before someone does see us.” Edward patted his brother on the shoulder, gestured at Ling to come along, and led them quickly through the narrow streets.
X X X
Chapter Three