FMA Big Bang Fic: The Mirror Shatters 3/11
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
Chapter Three
Roy sighed as he entered the house, letting his head loll on his shoulders. “It feels so nice to get home.” Closing the door behind him, he turned the lock, grabbing Riza before she could move out of reach, spinning her around and kissing her soundly. Hayate bounced up against his thigh as Roy dipped Riza back, nuzzling her jaw. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Her expression didn’t change, remaining completely stoic and unresponsive and Roy brought her upright. “I’ve done something, haven’t I?” he asked with a pout.
“The President Fuhrer said she’d be available for whatever you invited her for tomorrow night.”
“Oh?” Roy blinked. “Oh, that’s right.” A smile sparked across his face. “I thought she might like a night out.”
“With the boys? Or am I invited along?” Riza folded her arms, eyebrows quirking up.
“I considered having her here,” Roy began, grinning at that flare of irritation in Riza’s eyes. “But I thought it might be better to invite her out with us for our memorial celebration.” The smile remained on his face but changed somewhat, becoming more bittersweet. “She had her own losses in the war, after all, and it’s best that we band together in our memories.”
Riza cupped his cheek, her fingertips moving lightly over his temple. The corners of her mouth tipped up, the faintest hint of a smile. “You are a very good man, Roy.” Tilting her chin, she pressed a soft kiss on his mouth.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Roy pillowed his chin on Riza’s shoulder. “I’m glad you think so.” He nuzzled her ear, rubbing his nose against her earring. “If only there were more people who thought like you, I’d be assured of the presidency.”
Riza twisted her fingers in his hair, tugging gently. “I’m not the only one who feels that way. President Fuhrer Armstrong has her work cut out for her during the upcoming election. You’ve got a lot of people who look up to you and think you would do a fine job as the president. I think,” she slipped her free arm around him, hugging him tight, “that you need to let yourself remember the good you’ve done and the people that you’ve helped.” She kissed his cheek. “Including me, Roy.”
“Well, you are the person I most want to feel that way.” He grinned, sliding his hands down to cup her backside. “And most want to feel other things, too.”
Rolling her eyes, Riza twitched out of his grasp. “You never quit.”
“But you like it.” Roy’s smile widened. “I can tell.” He reached for her again, making a disappointed noise when Riza sidestepped his hands.
“Insatiable.” The twinkle in her eye belied her stern expression.
This time, he caught her hips, pulling her close. “Mmhm. You like that, too.”
“I also like being warned when you’re planning something. If you want me to watch your back, I need fair warning.” Riza’s scowl wasn’t playful at all, though her mouth kept trying to quirk up.
“I would’ve told you, I just got distracted.” Roy lipped her neck, nuzzling the line of her jaw. Her earring was too tempting to ignore and he caught Riza’s lobe in his lips, the tip of his tongue exploring territory that, while well known, always remained exciting. “You’re very distracting.”
Riza shoved ineffectually at his shoulders. “You’re not making it very easy to stay mad at you.”
“Good.” Roy scooped her up into his arms, adjusting his footing to keep his balance. “Let’s go to bed.”
Hayate barked at this turn of events, knowing that he was about to be fed a bunch of treats to stay out of the bedroom.
X X X
The wind blew snow over the rooftops but up high was still the safest place to be. They’d stopped for a breather on top of an apartment. The bricks felt warm against their backs as they huddled in the lee of a large chimney. Edward was loath to leave, even though he knew they shouldn’t stay out in the elements much longer.
He considered heading for the military capital but, after what had happened out in the woods, decided it wouldn’t be the best idea. While there were probably more places to hide in Central City than anywhere else in Amestris, Edward didn’t like the idea of staying in the shadows. They were home, damn it, and he wanted to know what was going on. Unfortunately, they’d already learned that whatever they’d left behind in Central wasn’t what they were returning to. Drawing unwanted attention was a bad idea. That didn’t mean Edward wasn’t ready to get out of the cold. By now, his ports ached bad enough he was favoring both his right arm and left leg. And Alphonse, well, Edward could see his little brother shivering. Ling seemed okay but Edward could tell he was about done in. The draggy, whiny prince had, after all, made his reappearance. “I’m not carrying you this time,” Edward snarled. “Haul your ass around by your ponytail, maybe.”
“You are not a good friend.” Ling pouted, or Edward guessed he did. It was hard to tell under the hood Alphonse had transmuted out of some stolen clothes.
“Look, I got us back to the right world. I haven’t heard a ‘thanks’ out of you yet for that.”
Alphonse broke in before the fight could escalate. “We need to figure out where we’re going.” At Edward’s look, he went on. “We can’t take Ling to the military headquarters, not if what those soldiers said was true.” He frowned, remembering. “And we still need to tell someone they’re up there. I don’t want them to freeze to death.”
Edward sighed, just wanting to rest a little longer and soak up some of the heat off the chimney. This building had a decent furnace. “Who knows who might be in charge now. We can’t count on the bastard having made it to the top.”
“So we need a place to hide out until you can make your inquiries.” Tugging fitfully at his jacket, Ling scooted closer to Alphonse, both protecting the younger Elric from the wind and sharing his body heat. “Some place warm.” He shot Edward a glare, as if the weather was his fault.
“Nng! I know that.” The thing was, Edward didn’t know where they could take shelter. Sure, there was probably an abandoned building somewhere. Hell, they could break into this apartment building and maybe find an empty suite, but that wouldn’t get them any closer to information - unless someone caught them. Another sigh sent his breath pluming away from him. “Maybe,” Edward perked up, the idea coming clear. “Mrs. Hughes.” Next to him, Alphonse started nodding his agreement. “Maybe she still lives here in Central.”
Ling raised his head at that, peering at Edward from the confines of his hood. “And if not, we can break in somewhere to get warm,” he raised his shoe, wriggling it, “and you can make us boot soup again.”
X X X
President Fuhrer Olivia Mille Armstrong was of the opinion that a job well done was a job she did herself. Standing in a debriefing room, her hands clasped behind her back, she studied the two soldiers facing her. The pair stood at attention, still red-faced, their windburned skin rough from the cold.
“Have a seat.” She nodded at the table and the carafe and cups on it. “There’s hot coffee. You two earned it.”
There was a slight hesitation before they settled into the chairs, the man pouring coffee for the woman first. Olivia waited until they each had their cups before she started pacing slowly around the table. Her secretary, Vato Falman, sat across from the pair, pen poised to take notes. Not that he’d need the pen, the man had a photographic memory. Olivia still considered his transfer to Briggs a coup against Mustang. She hadn’t offered Falman back, despite Mustang’s hints. While she knew Falman retained communications with Mustang and his staff, Olivia thought his talents better suited under her command.
“Now,” she said as she walked, “I’ve had a chance to read the reports your commanding officer forwarded to me earlier. You were on regular patrol to the south east of Central, and you encountered three men.”
“Yes, sir,” they responded as one.
“I know it’s late, and you’re both cold. You’ve had to endure the chilling weather outside. I know you’d like to return to your barracks and get warmed up.” Olivia wondered if either of them would last in Briggs and decided it wasn’t worth considering. “Sergeant Steinkuhl, I’d like you to wait in the anteroom until I’ve finished debriefing Second Lieutenant Rosch.”
“Yes, sir!” The sergeant saluted and left the room.
Olivia waited for the door to close before she turned her full attention to Rosch. “Second Lieutenant, if you would?”
Rosch took a breath and began her story about checking in with her superior officer, getting the daily assignment, collecting Steinkuhl and our vehicle. “President Fuhrer, we were specifically asked to check the southeast side of the city, where the flash had been reported. The previous patrol hadn’t seen anything unusual, and Brigadier General Armstrong specified all patrols were to continue searching the area for anything out of the ordinary.” They’d left the front gate, signing out at 8:56, a little ahead of time, and drove out past the slums of the city for their patrol. The sergeant checked in with HQ via radio at 10:31. “He completed his transmission at 10:45 and we were going to continue our patrol when I heard something.”
The second lieutenant flicked her gaze at Falman then back to Olivia. “We left our vehicle and moved into the woods. There isn’t a lot of underbrush, and the wind had carried the voices I’d heard a distance. We were lucky, sir. The three men were facing away from us and toward Central City. The Xingese man mentioned reconnoitering the city as we approached.” Rosch went on to say the trio had turned. One of them had tried to engage Rosch and Steinkuhl in conversation, then, when that hadn’t worked, attacked using alchemy. Sounding somewhere between embarrassed and disgusted, Rosch finally said, “We were captured, President Fuhrer.” The verbal report followed the written one Olivia had read earlier. The soldiers had been disarmed, bullets removed from their pistols and tossed into a snow drift, and the trio had walked away.
“Wait.” Olivia laid her hands on the table. The left one clicked, metal against the wooden surface. “They didn’t attempt to coerce you for information on Central City?”
The second lieutenant responded immediately. “No, sir!”
Folding her arms, Olivia studied Rosch. Her mind turned over the possibilities. What spy wouldn’t take advantage of capturing an enemy? Perhaps they were on a time schedule, but even so, they could’ve taken one soldier prisoner and killed the other. Unless they were fools, but alchemists weren’t generally idiots, Mustang not withstanding.
When he came in for his debriefing, the sergeant essentially provided the same information Rosch had. Olivia had them both in the room after their separate debriefings. “All right. Your reports match. Your clothes and the information brought to me in your commander’s report verify what you’ve said at least in regard to the weapons, being captured in earthen stocks, and that alchemy was involved. Now,” she tapped the table with her forefinger, “I want you to tell me more. I want to know who these alchemists were. Why they were with an enemy of Amestris. What can you tell me about that?” She studied them impassively, wondering which one would break first.
“One of the Amestrians called the other ‘brother’,” Steinkuhl said, “President Fuhrer.”
Rosch added, “Their clothing was unusual. They weren’t dressed for the weather, sir.” She hesitated, glancing down at the tabletop. “Their accents were Eastern.”
“And they had weird eyes.”
That stopped the thoughts rolling in Olivia’s head. “How so, Sergeant?”
“They were yellow.”
“Almost gold. The same color as their h-hair.” Rosch reacted as Falman scrabbled the pen across the notepad. He mumbled an apology, making Olivia take note.
After a few more questions, Olivia released them with a request the pair meet with Brigadier General Armstrong in Investigations to provide additional descriptions. She wanted a sketch to be produced of the trio for distribution. Once she’d dismissed the pair, Olivia focused on her secretary. He neatly folded his notepad, screwing the cap on his pen. If he thought his innocent appearance would throw her off the scent, he was as foolish as Mustang.
Olivia smiled at him. “So, Falman. Who are these gold-eyed men? And where can I find them?”
X X X
“Here, Winry, you look cold.” She blinked in surprise, accepting the steaming mug from Gracia. “And dreamy.” The older woman smiled, a gentle curve of her mouth. “It makes me wonder, what’s on your mind?”
Winry took a sip of the mulled cider to get a few seconds before answering. “Well,” she hedged, “mostly about the cold.” Her body had become acclimatized to the heat of Rush Valley, though the winters there were bitterly cold, too, just not nearly so damp. That didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the frost flowers on the windows or the way the snow drifted past the glass, illuminated by the soft glow of the street lights. Rezembool still had no lights, the farm houses lit by electricity, yes, but nothing brightening the roads at night beyond lanterns and the natural lights of the moon and stars. And, Winry thought, swallowing her cider to hide the grim line of her mouth, the firefights to the near east.
“Mostly?” Gracia gestured at the opening left on the window seat and Winry scooted a bit to make room for her.
The older woman’s warmth comforted Winry, more than she liked to admit. She was a young woman now, ready to test for her mechanic’s license, ready to move out into the world. Taking solace in Gracia’s maternal air, well, it made Winry feel almost as if she was going backward in time rather than forward. “Mostly.” She tempered that admission with a tiny smile. “Elicia’s wreath for Mr. Hughes’ grave is beautiful.” They had spent most of the evening weaving wreaths of evergreens, winter berries, green and white ribbons and fabric flowers to decorate the stones for the fallen soldiers. Sap still clung to Winry’s thumb and forefinger, making her digits tacky, and she’d use some of her degreaser to clean up later.
“Yes, Elicia’s very artistic.” Gracia’s smile was not quite that of an indulgent mother’s. “Maes would be proud of her.” Her arm settled around Winry’s shoulder, giving her a squeeze. “And you, too. He thought of you almost as another daughter, you know.”
Winry nodded. Mr. Hughes had taken photos of her with Elicia, some of which still decorated the walls. There were a couple of her with the Elric brothers, too, displayed as casually as those pictures containing the Hughes family or the Mustangs. These photos were all framed, rather than tacked to a wall, like the pictures Winry had in Rush Valley or those Granny had of them all. It was all the same, though - a show of familial pride, whether by blood, chance or choice.
Gracia patted Winry’s shoulder, withdrawing her arm so she could cup cold fingers around the heated ceramic of her cup. Fragrant steam rose from the cider, perfuming the air around the two women. “Your wreath is beautiful, too.”
Ducking her head like an adolescent at the praise, Winry couldn’t help the surge of delight at that comment. She thought her wreath was nice, not as lovely as Gracia’s by far, but still a decent showing. That she’d strung a few unusual ornaments in the ways of nuts, bolts and screws with the flowers and ribbons was her own way of honoring those who, while not making the ultimate sacrifice, had lost something of themselves in the battles. “Thanks.”
They fell into a companionable silence, sipping their cider. Outside, a steady breeze blew the branches of the trees, making them clatter together. The ceremony for Memorial Day would be cold, Winry had no doubt. “I suppose I should be getting ready for bed soon.” She didn’t make a move to get out of the window seat. Not yet. Even as tired as she felt from the stress of her train trip and dealing with military checkpoints, Winry didn’t want to go to sleep yet.
“I know I should.” Gracia patted her shoulder again, getting to her feet. “Don’t stay up too late staring out the window.”
Winry nodded, saying her good nights to Gracia as the older woman left the room. She stared out into the night, finishing off her cider and setting the cup aside. Frost flowers bloomed at the corners of the windows, lacing up the glass. Winry almost thought she could see them growing.
Snowflakes swirled past the window, caught in the breeze. Winry tracked one that twirled up, toward the roof of the house, then back down again. Snow was beautiful but caused so much trouble for her clients. Even the president fuhrer had problems with her automail ports in bad weather. Winry had studied under the automailers in Briggs to better her knowledge of cold weather automail. Her experiments with enamel plates were incomplete, though Winry thought she might be on to something. It would take more work before she had conclusive evidence she could possibly publish and it still didn’t solve the problem of the way the ports reacted to heat and cold. That would take more work; more experiments. Winry hated putting her clients through them but there was no other way to reach her conclusions.
Shaking off her thoughts, Winry got to her feet, however reluctant she felt about going to bed. Even the idea of snuggling under that down comforter held little interest tonight. Winry felt restless, inexplicably so. If she was home, or in Rush Valley, she’d be working on designs.
The sound startled her from her daydreams. Winry jerked at the second knock, halfway to the front door before she realized it. Who could be calling at this time of night? Teeth gritting, Winry wished she had one of her wrenches. Despite Mayflower being a nice street, Central City wasn’t always as quiet a town as it might seem. At least Gracia had installed a peephole in the door and Winry pushed the button to turn on the porch light, standing on her toes to look through the fish eye glass.
The sight on the other side of the door sent her stumbling back, crashing into the wall.
X X X
Edward blew on his hands, trying to warm the flesh one. “All r-right.” The tremor in his voice had to stop. He took a deep, chilling breath. “I’ll go to the door. You two stay here ‘til I give the okay.”
“What if Mrs. Hughes moved?” Alphonse had to voice the question plaguing Edward.
“Let’s not go borrowing trouble.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulders, exchanging a look with Ling. The prince nodded, a dip of his chin really, knowing Edward would never ask aloud that Ling protect his brother. With a nod back, Edward made his way out of the alley and across the street to Gracia Hughes’s house.
Snow had melted and soaked through his right shoe. Edward knew he had to have blisters on his foot. God, it was freezing. His ports were nothing but agony now, and he wanted to get out of the cold. If this didn’t work, Edward knew he’d have to figure out another idea, if Alphonse hadn’t already come up with something by the time he got back.
He wished he’d taken the time to transmute his clothing into a delivery man’s uniform, in case someone might be watching. Not that even the milkman was out at this time of the night. And he wasn’t sure how he’d get Al and Ling across the street if someone was watching. Wave them over? A gusty sigh sent plumes of steam into the rushing air. No matter what, Edward knew he had to get Alphonse out of this weather.
Passing through the gate, Edward left it open, telling himself it wasn’t so he’d have an easier escape but so it would save Alphonse and Ling time getting to the house. He had to steel his nerves to rap on the door. The first knock was so light, Edward knew no one could have heard it inside. Biting his lower lip, he thumped his knuckles twice against the wooden panel, wincing at the echoing boom.
The wind tickled down the back of his neck and Edward hunched his shoulders, belatedly remembering the soldiers up on the hill. Hell, he’d have to get into contact someone about them. The question was, who could he get in touch with? The thought that Colonel Shit might still be in Central crossed his mind. If he called for the bastard, Mustang would be immediately alerted. And who knew what any of the current passwords were.
“Nng!” Edward gnashed his teeth, wondering if anyone was ever coming to the door. If some stranger answered, it could be bad. He relaxed a bit, finally hearing someone walking to the door. There was a faint click, barely audible, about eye level, and he turned toward the sound, wondering why his skin was crawling. A thud came from behind the door and Edward jerked back, frowning. What the hell?
The door opened in a flash. Edward thought for a fanciful second the heat swarming out of the doorway came from the furious eyes glaring at him. It couldn’t be. “Winry?”
She snatched his wrist, hauling him inside and just managing not to slam the door closed. “Edward Elric.” Her fingers tightened, hard enough to bruise.
“I - I didn’t,” the words tangled in his mouth. Edward had never dreamed Winry would be here. It felt like a tight wire in his spine suddenly sprang loose, threatening to spill him to the floor. He half reached his free arm up to hug her only to have her drop his arm, turning away.
Her words were muffled as she asked, “You’re back?”
It was a stupid question but Edward wasn’t going to draw attention to that just now. “Uh, yeah. Al and Ling are outside.”
“Al?” Winry spun back around, eyes wide.
Edward couldn’t help the shy, proud smile. “He’s got his body, Winry. He’s still a little weak but we got it back.”
Her fists had risen to cover her mouth as he spoke and Edward could barely hear the whisper. “Al’s here?”
Nodding, Edward looked away, tucking his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her. His fingers flexed, almost as if protesting that loss. “Yeah. It…it’s a long story, Winry, and it’s cold out there.”
“Oh!” The animation returned to her voice and Edward risked a glance over. Winry pinched her chin between her thumb and forefinger, speaking almost to herself. “It’s late but the neighbors…you can’t just walk back out there and bring them in.”
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Edward heard another sound, glancing down the hall to see Mrs. Hughes, dressed in a warm house robe, appear at the corner. Even in the dim light, he could see how her eyes widened.
“Ed?” Mrs. Hughes rushed down the hall to envelop Edward in a hug that smelled of sweet soap and ever so faintly of tears. He stiffened, not expecting this from a woman he’d met twice, his arms hesitating to return the embrace. She pulled back, her hands resting on his shoulders, giving him the tiniest shake. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Cheeks flushing, Edward nodded, mumbling something he hoped sounded appropriate in return.
“Al’s waiting outside,” Winry’s brisk voice cut through any further embarrassment. “With the Xingese prince.”
Mrs. Hughes clutched the neck of her robe. “Oh. That makes it -”
Winry nodded sharply. “Difficult.”
Waving her hand, Mrs. Hughes said, “Not that it matters. Ed, you and your brother and your friend are welcome.” Even as she said it, Edward could read the strain in Mrs. Hughes’s eyes.
“What is it?” The question burst out of him. “What’s going on with the checkpoints and,” he tossed his hands in the air, wanting answers, not sure how to ask for them.
Winry faced him and Edward found himself searching for - something, he wasn’t sure what, but it seemed to be missing from Winry’s gaze. “We’re at war with Xing, Ed.” Her voice went flat. “Ran Fan accused the Fullmetal Alchemist, the Flame Alchemist and Riza Hawkeye of killing Yao Ling.”
X X X
Ling huddled closer to Alphonse, wishing Edward would just hurry up. The weather seemed to have taken a turn for the worse and he could feel Alphonse’s shivers all the way through his own body. If it wouldn’t attract attention, Ling would have started a fire to warm them both. With them hiding out between a pair of houses, he was sure someone would notice something that out of the ordinary. Then there was always the fear they might call a fire brigade - no, Ed would hate that.
“H-how m-much longer do you think it’ll be?” Alphonse’s teeth chattered.
“I don’t know.” Ling looped an arm around Alphonse’s shoulders. He frowned at the doorway, as if that would make a difference. What was taking Edward so long, anyway? He considered. Maybe the woman had gone to sleep? Ling wrinkled his nose. No, his grandmother would have thumped his skull for thinking that. Just because a woman had a child, or was older than he, himself was, did not make her feeble.
Next to him, Alphonse’s shivers nearly rattled Ling’s teeth. He tucked himself even closer. Alphonse would probably try to crawl inside Ling’s skin if it would keep him warmer. Ling shifted his weight, trying to wrap Alphonse in his embrace. Amestris was not as warm as the world they’d wound up in and Ling wished he - they - had warmer clothes. Or that Edward would hurry up and bring them into the house.
As if that wish was answered, the door opened and Edward stepped outside, raising his hand in farewell. He glanced up and down the street as he walked through the gate, breaking into a jog to cross the snow-covered road. Pain was evident in his lopsided gait. He jerked his head at Ling and Alphonse as he passed by their hideout, continuing down the walk.
Grumbling to himself, Ling half-hauled Alphonse to his feet. The two of them slipped out after Edward, following him at a distance as he turned the corner of the block. The wind blew harder down the east-west corridor, tugging at their clothes, dumping snow down the back of Ling’s coat. Edward turned the corner ahead, Alphonse pulling at Ling to move more quickly.
Edward waited for them, shifting from one foot to the other, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. Ling remembered a stray comment Edward had made, about his automail being so cold, he felt as if his whole body was freezing. “C’mon.” He beckoned them to follow, the hair blowing into his face not enough to hide his concern for Alphonse. There was something else though, something Ling couldn’t name. Alphonse noticed it, too, shooting Ling a confused look. They followed the elder Elric down an alley and to the back door of the woman’s home. Edward waved them on, frowning, obviously wanting them to hurry up. Alphonse entered the house ahead of Ling and Edward pulled the door to behind him.
“W-Winry?” Alphonse stood, dripping snow on the tiled floor, his eyes huge in his cold-reddened face.
“Hi, Al.” She opened her arms, drawing him into a hug. There was such warmth in embrace, Ling felt jealous for an instant, reminding himself he’d be welcomed home when he reached Xing. From where he stood across the room, Edward’s smile seemed bittersweet. Ling wondered at it. What had happened when Ed was in here alone?
Art by Yoporock
“It’s so good to see you!” Alphonse buried his face in the crook of her neck. Ling could just hear his whisper, “I missed you so much,” and had to turn to the woman standing nearer to Edward.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hughes, for giving us a place to rest,” he said, pressing his palms together and inclining his body toward her.
“It’s fine.” Her fingers twisting together showed more nervousness than her expression, though the fine lines around her eyes were tight. “You need to get warm. And a place to rest.”
“We need to contact someone to let them know there’re a couple of soldiers outside of town,” Edward hooked a thumb toward the west, where they’d arrived.
“A patrol?” Winry let go of Alphonse, though her hand still rested on his shoulder, as if to reassure herself he still stood there. “You guys took on a patrol?”
Edward scrubbed at the back of his head. “They took on us.”
“We’ll talk about that later, when you’re all comfortable.” Mrs. Hughes nodded at Ling. “Al, you’re shivering. Come with me. All of you.” She beckoned them further into the house. “You need to get dry and warm.”
“We can’t talk about it later, Mrs. Hughes. Those people could freeze.”
Winry shook her head at Alphonse’s exclamation. “If they haven’t checked in, someone will go looking for them.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“Nothing! I mean,” Edward waved his hands, trying to fend off that glare. “We just used alchemy to trap them. And take their guns.”
Alphonse offered his own reassurance. “We didn’t hurt them, Winry.”
Her expression darkened more. “So, soldiers will report a pair of alchemists with a Xingese man attacked them. And,” her gaze raked over the Elrics, “you two still stand out. This isn’t good. We need to start damage control, now.”
“Whu?” Edward’s mouth dropped open.
Sighing, Winry raked a hand through her bangs. “Just…go get dry. We’ll see what we can do.”
X X X
Chapter Four
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
Chapter Three
Roy sighed as he entered the house, letting his head loll on his shoulders. “It feels so nice to get home.” Closing the door behind him, he turned the lock, grabbing Riza before she could move out of reach, spinning her around and kissing her soundly. Hayate bounced up against his thigh as Roy dipped Riza back, nuzzling her jaw. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Her expression didn’t change, remaining completely stoic and unresponsive and Roy brought her upright. “I’ve done something, haven’t I?” he asked with a pout.
“The President Fuhrer said she’d be available for whatever you invited her for tomorrow night.”
“Oh?” Roy blinked. “Oh, that’s right.” A smile sparked across his face. “I thought she might like a night out.”
“With the boys? Or am I invited along?” Riza folded her arms, eyebrows quirking up.
“I considered having her here,” Roy began, grinning at that flare of irritation in Riza’s eyes. “But I thought it might be better to invite her out with us for our memorial celebration.” The smile remained on his face but changed somewhat, becoming more bittersweet. “She had her own losses in the war, after all, and it’s best that we band together in our memories.”
Riza cupped his cheek, her fingertips moving lightly over his temple. The corners of her mouth tipped up, the faintest hint of a smile. “You are a very good man, Roy.” Tilting her chin, she pressed a soft kiss on his mouth.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Roy pillowed his chin on Riza’s shoulder. “I’m glad you think so.” He nuzzled her ear, rubbing his nose against her earring. “If only there were more people who thought like you, I’d be assured of the presidency.”
Riza twisted her fingers in his hair, tugging gently. “I’m not the only one who feels that way. President Fuhrer Armstrong has her work cut out for her during the upcoming election. You’ve got a lot of people who look up to you and think you would do a fine job as the president. I think,” she slipped her free arm around him, hugging him tight, “that you need to let yourself remember the good you’ve done and the people that you’ve helped.” She kissed his cheek. “Including me, Roy.”
“Well, you are the person I most want to feel that way.” He grinned, sliding his hands down to cup her backside. “And most want to feel other things, too.”
Rolling her eyes, Riza twitched out of his grasp. “You never quit.”
“But you like it.” Roy’s smile widened. “I can tell.” He reached for her again, making a disappointed noise when Riza sidestepped his hands.
“Insatiable.” The twinkle in her eye belied her stern expression.
This time, he caught her hips, pulling her close. “Mmhm. You like that, too.”
“I also like being warned when you’re planning something. If you want me to watch your back, I need fair warning.” Riza’s scowl wasn’t playful at all, though her mouth kept trying to quirk up.
“I would’ve told you, I just got distracted.” Roy lipped her neck, nuzzling the line of her jaw. Her earring was too tempting to ignore and he caught Riza’s lobe in his lips, the tip of his tongue exploring territory that, while well known, always remained exciting. “You’re very distracting.”
Riza shoved ineffectually at his shoulders. “You’re not making it very easy to stay mad at you.”
“Good.” Roy scooped her up into his arms, adjusting his footing to keep his balance. “Let’s go to bed.”
Hayate barked at this turn of events, knowing that he was about to be fed a bunch of treats to stay out of the bedroom.
X X X
The wind blew snow over the rooftops but up high was still the safest place to be. They’d stopped for a breather on top of an apartment. The bricks felt warm against their backs as they huddled in the lee of a large chimney. Edward was loath to leave, even though he knew they shouldn’t stay out in the elements much longer.
He considered heading for the military capital but, after what had happened out in the woods, decided it wouldn’t be the best idea. While there were probably more places to hide in Central City than anywhere else in Amestris, Edward didn’t like the idea of staying in the shadows. They were home, damn it, and he wanted to know what was going on. Unfortunately, they’d already learned that whatever they’d left behind in Central wasn’t what they were returning to. Drawing unwanted attention was a bad idea. That didn’t mean Edward wasn’t ready to get out of the cold. By now, his ports ached bad enough he was favoring both his right arm and left leg. And Alphonse, well, Edward could see his little brother shivering. Ling seemed okay but Edward could tell he was about done in. The draggy, whiny prince had, after all, made his reappearance. “I’m not carrying you this time,” Edward snarled. “Haul your ass around by your ponytail, maybe.”
“You are not a good friend.” Ling pouted, or Edward guessed he did. It was hard to tell under the hood Alphonse had transmuted out of some stolen clothes.
“Look, I got us back to the right world. I haven’t heard a ‘thanks’ out of you yet for that.”
Alphonse broke in before the fight could escalate. “We need to figure out where we’re going.” At Edward’s look, he went on. “We can’t take Ling to the military headquarters, not if what those soldiers said was true.” He frowned, remembering. “And we still need to tell someone they’re up there. I don’t want them to freeze to death.”
Edward sighed, just wanting to rest a little longer and soak up some of the heat off the chimney. This building had a decent furnace. “Who knows who might be in charge now. We can’t count on the bastard having made it to the top.”
“So we need a place to hide out until you can make your inquiries.” Tugging fitfully at his jacket, Ling scooted closer to Alphonse, both protecting the younger Elric from the wind and sharing his body heat. “Some place warm.” He shot Edward a glare, as if the weather was his fault.
“Nng! I know that.” The thing was, Edward didn’t know where they could take shelter. Sure, there was probably an abandoned building somewhere. Hell, they could break into this apartment building and maybe find an empty suite, but that wouldn’t get them any closer to information - unless someone caught them. Another sigh sent his breath pluming away from him. “Maybe,” Edward perked up, the idea coming clear. “Mrs. Hughes.” Next to him, Alphonse started nodding his agreement. “Maybe she still lives here in Central.”
Ling raised his head at that, peering at Edward from the confines of his hood. “And if not, we can break in somewhere to get warm,” he raised his shoe, wriggling it, “and you can make us boot soup again.”
X X X
President Fuhrer Olivia Mille Armstrong was of the opinion that a job well done was a job she did herself. Standing in a debriefing room, her hands clasped behind her back, she studied the two soldiers facing her. The pair stood at attention, still red-faced, their windburned skin rough from the cold.
“Have a seat.” She nodded at the table and the carafe and cups on it. “There’s hot coffee. You two earned it.”
There was a slight hesitation before they settled into the chairs, the man pouring coffee for the woman first. Olivia waited until they each had their cups before she started pacing slowly around the table. Her secretary, Vato Falman, sat across from the pair, pen poised to take notes. Not that he’d need the pen, the man had a photographic memory. Olivia still considered his transfer to Briggs a coup against Mustang. She hadn’t offered Falman back, despite Mustang’s hints. While she knew Falman retained communications with Mustang and his staff, Olivia thought his talents better suited under her command.
“Now,” she said as she walked, “I’ve had a chance to read the reports your commanding officer forwarded to me earlier. You were on regular patrol to the south east of Central, and you encountered three men.”
“Yes, sir,” they responded as one.
“I know it’s late, and you’re both cold. You’ve had to endure the chilling weather outside. I know you’d like to return to your barracks and get warmed up.” Olivia wondered if either of them would last in Briggs and decided it wasn’t worth considering. “Sergeant Steinkuhl, I’d like you to wait in the anteroom until I’ve finished debriefing Second Lieutenant Rosch.”
“Yes, sir!” The sergeant saluted and left the room.
Olivia waited for the door to close before she turned her full attention to Rosch. “Second Lieutenant, if you would?”
Rosch took a breath and began her story about checking in with her superior officer, getting the daily assignment, collecting Steinkuhl and our vehicle. “President Fuhrer, we were specifically asked to check the southeast side of the city, where the flash had been reported. The previous patrol hadn’t seen anything unusual, and Brigadier General Armstrong specified all patrols were to continue searching the area for anything out of the ordinary.” They’d left the front gate, signing out at 8:56, a little ahead of time, and drove out past the slums of the city for their patrol. The sergeant checked in with HQ via radio at 10:31. “He completed his transmission at 10:45 and we were going to continue our patrol when I heard something.”
The second lieutenant flicked her gaze at Falman then back to Olivia. “We left our vehicle and moved into the woods. There isn’t a lot of underbrush, and the wind had carried the voices I’d heard a distance. We were lucky, sir. The three men were facing away from us and toward Central City. The Xingese man mentioned reconnoitering the city as we approached.” Rosch went on to say the trio had turned. One of them had tried to engage Rosch and Steinkuhl in conversation, then, when that hadn’t worked, attacked using alchemy. Sounding somewhere between embarrassed and disgusted, Rosch finally said, “We were captured, President Fuhrer.” The verbal report followed the written one Olivia had read earlier. The soldiers had been disarmed, bullets removed from their pistols and tossed into a snow drift, and the trio had walked away.
“Wait.” Olivia laid her hands on the table. The left one clicked, metal against the wooden surface. “They didn’t attempt to coerce you for information on Central City?”
The second lieutenant responded immediately. “No, sir!”
Folding her arms, Olivia studied Rosch. Her mind turned over the possibilities. What spy wouldn’t take advantage of capturing an enemy? Perhaps they were on a time schedule, but even so, they could’ve taken one soldier prisoner and killed the other. Unless they were fools, but alchemists weren’t generally idiots, Mustang not withstanding.
When he came in for his debriefing, the sergeant essentially provided the same information Rosch had. Olivia had them both in the room after their separate debriefings. “All right. Your reports match. Your clothes and the information brought to me in your commander’s report verify what you’ve said at least in regard to the weapons, being captured in earthen stocks, and that alchemy was involved. Now,” she tapped the table with her forefinger, “I want you to tell me more. I want to know who these alchemists were. Why they were with an enemy of Amestris. What can you tell me about that?” She studied them impassively, wondering which one would break first.
“One of the Amestrians called the other ‘brother’,” Steinkuhl said, “President Fuhrer.”
Rosch added, “Their clothing was unusual. They weren’t dressed for the weather, sir.” She hesitated, glancing down at the tabletop. “Their accents were Eastern.”
“And they had weird eyes.”
That stopped the thoughts rolling in Olivia’s head. “How so, Sergeant?”
“They were yellow.”
“Almost gold. The same color as their h-hair.” Rosch reacted as Falman scrabbled the pen across the notepad. He mumbled an apology, making Olivia take note.
After a few more questions, Olivia released them with a request the pair meet with Brigadier General Armstrong in Investigations to provide additional descriptions. She wanted a sketch to be produced of the trio for distribution. Once she’d dismissed the pair, Olivia focused on her secretary. He neatly folded his notepad, screwing the cap on his pen. If he thought his innocent appearance would throw her off the scent, he was as foolish as Mustang.
Olivia smiled at him. “So, Falman. Who are these gold-eyed men? And where can I find them?”
X X X
“Here, Winry, you look cold.” She blinked in surprise, accepting the steaming mug from Gracia. “And dreamy.” The older woman smiled, a gentle curve of her mouth. “It makes me wonder, what’s on your mind?”
Winry took a sip of the mulled cider to get a few seconds before answering. “Well,” she hedged, “mostly about the cold.” Her body had become acclimatized to the heat of Rush Valley, though the winters there were bitterly cold, too, just not nearly so damp. That didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the frost flowers on the windows or the way the snow drifted past the glass, illuminated by the soft glow of the street lights. Rezembool still had no lights, the farm houses lit by electricity, yes, but nothing brightening the roads at night beyond lanterns and the natural lights of the moon and stars. And, Winry thought, swallowing her cider to hide the grim line of her mouth, the firefights to the near east.
“Mostly?” Gracia gestured at the opening left on the window seat and Winry scooted a bit to make room for her.
The older woman’s warmth comforted Winry, more than she liked to admit. She was a young woman now, ready to test for her mechanic’s license, ready to move out into the world. Taking solace in Gracia’s maternal air, well, it made Winry feel almost as if she was going backward in time rather than forward. “Mostly.” She tempered that admission with a tiny smile. “Elicia’s wreath for Mr. Hughes’ grave is beautiful.” They had spent most of the evening weaving wreaths of evergreens, winter berries, green and white ribbons and fabric flowers to decorate the stones for the fallen soldiers. Sap still clung to Winry’s thumb and forefinger, making her digits tacky, and she’d use some of her degreaser to clean up later.
“Yes, Elicia’s very artistic.” Gracia’s smile was not quite that of an indulgent mother’s. “Maes would be proud of her.” Her arm settled around Winry’s shoulder, giving her a squeeze. “And you, too. He thought of you almost as another daughter, you know.”
Winry nodded. Mr. Hughes had taken photos of her with Elicia, some of which still decorated the walls. There were a couple of her with the Elric brothers, too, displayed as casually as those pictures containing the Hughes family or the Mustangs. These photos were all framed, rather than tacked to a wall, like the pictures Winry had in Rush Valley or those Granny had of them all. It was all the same, though - a show of familial pride, whether by blood, chance or choice.
Gracia patted Winry’s shoulder, withdrawing her arm so she could cup cold fingers around the heated ceramic of her cup. Fragrant steam rose from the cider, perfuming the air around the two women. “Your wreath is beautiful, too.”
Ducking her head like an adolescent at the praise, Winry couldn’t help the surge of delight at that comment. She thought her wreath was nice, not as lovely as Gracia’s by far, but still a decent showing. That she’d strung a few unusual ornaments in the ways of nuts, bolts and screws with the flowers and ribbons was her own way of honoring those who, while not making the ultimate sacrifice, had lost something of themselves in the battles. “Thanks.”
They fell into a companionable silence, sipping their cider. Outside, a steady breeze blew the branches of the trees, making them clatter together. The ceremony for Memorial Day would be cold, Winry had no doubt. “I suppose I should be getting ready for bed soon.” She didn’t make a move to get out of the window seat. Not yet. Even as tired as she felt from the stress of her train trip and dealing with military checkpoints, Winry didn’t want to go to sleep yet.
“I know I should.” Gracia patted her shoulder again, getting to her feet. “Don’t stay up too late staring out the window.”
Winry nodded, saying her good nights to Gracia as the older woman left the room. She stared out into the night, finishing off her cider and setting the cup aside. Frost flowers bloomed at the corners of the windows, lacing up the glass. Winry almost thought she could see them growing.
Snowflakes swirled past the window, caught in the breeze. Winry tracked one that twirled up, toward the roof of the house, then back down again. Snow was beautiful but caused so much trouble for her clients. Even the president fuhrer had problems with her automail ports in bad weather. Winry had studied under the automailers in Briggs to better her knowledge of cold weather automail. Her experiments with enamel plates were incomplete, though Winry thought she might be on to something. It would take more work before she had conclusive evidence she could possibly publish and it still didn’t solve the problem of the way the ports reacted to heat and cold. That would take more work; more experiments. Winry hated putting her clients through them but there was no other way to reach her conclusions.
Shaking off her thoughts, Winry got to her feet, however reluctant she felt about going to bed. Even the idea of snuggling under that down comforter held little interest tonight. Winry felt restless, inexplicably so. If she was home, or in Rush Valley, she’d be working on designs.
The sound startled her from her daydreams. Winry jerked at the second knock, halfway to the front door before she realized it. Who could be calling at this time of night? Teeth gritting, Winry wished she had one of her wrenches. Despite Mayflower being a nice street, Central City wasn’t always as quiet a town as it might seem. At least Gracia had installed a peephole in the door and Winry pushed the button to turn on the porch light, standing on her toes to look through the fish eye glass.
The sight on the other side of the door sent her stumbling back, crashing into the wall.
X X X
Edward blew on his hands, trying to warm the flesh one. “All r-right.” The tremor in his voice had to stop. He took a deep, chilling breath. “I’ll go to the door. You two stay here ‘til I give the okay.”
“What if Mrs. Hughes moved?” Alphonse had to voice the question plaguing Edward.
“Let’s not go borrowing trouble.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulders, exchanging a look with Ling. The prince nodded, a dip of his chin really, knowing Edward would never ask aloud that Ling protect his brother. With a nod back, Edward made his way out of the alley and across the street to Gracia Hughes’s house.
Snow had melted and soaked through his right shoe. Edward knew he had to have blisters on his foot. God, it was freezing. His ports were nothing but agony now, and he wanted to get out of the cold. If this didn’t work, Edward knew he’d have to figure out another idea, if Alphonse hadn’t already come up with something by the time he got back.
He wished he’d taken the time to transmute his clothing into a delivery man’s uniform, in case someone might be watching. Not that even the milkman was out at this time of the night. And he wasn’t sure how he’d get Al and Ling across the street if someone was watching. Wave them over? A gusty sigh sent plumes of steam into the rushing air. No matter what, Edward knew he had to get Alphonse out of this weather.
Passing through the gate, Edward left it open, telling himself it wasn’t so he’d have an easier escape but so it would save Alphonse and Ling time getting to the house. He had to steel his nerves to rap on the door. The first knock was so light, Edward knew no one could have heard it inside. Biting his lower lip, he thumped his knuckles twice against the wooden panel, wincing at the echoing boom.
The wind tickled down the back of his neck and Edward hunched his shoulders, belatedly remembering the soldiers up on the hill. Hell, he’d have to get into contact someone about them. The question was, who could he get in touch with? The thought that Colonel Shit might still be in Central crossed his mind. If he called for the bastard, Mustang would be immediately alerted. And who knew what any of the current passwords were.
“Nng!” Edward gnashed his teeth, wondering if anyone was ever coming to the door. If some stranger answered, it could be bad. He relaxed a bit, finally hearing someone walking to the door. There was a faint click, barely audible, about eye level, and he turned toward the sound, wondering why his skin was crawling. A thud came from behind the door and Edward jerked back, frowning. What the hell?
The door opened in a flash. Edward thought for a fanciful second the heat swarming out of the doorway came from the furious eyes glaring at him. It couldn’t be. “Winry?”
She snatched his wrist, hauling him inside and just managing not to slam the door closed. “Edward Elric.” Her fingers tightened, hard enough to bruise.
“I - I didn’t,” the words tangled in his mouth. Edward had never dreamed Winry would be here. It felt like a tight wire in his spine suddenly sprang loose, threatening to spill him to the floor. He half reached his free arm up to hug her only to have her drop his arm, turning away.
Her words were muffled as she asked, “You’re back?”
It was a stupid question but Edward wasn’t going to draw attention to that just now. “Uh, yeah. Al and Ling are outside.”
“Al?” Winry spun back around, eyes wide.
Edward couldn’t help the shy, proud smile. “He’s got his body, Winry. He’s still a little weak but we got it back.”
Her fists had risen to cover her mouth as he spoke and Edward could barely hear the whisper. “Al’s here?”
Nodding, Edward looked away, tucking his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her. His fingers flexed, almost as if protesting that loss. “Yeah. It…it’s a long story, Winry, and it’s cold out there.”
“Oh!” The animation returned to her voice and Edward risked a glance over. Winry pinched her chin between her thumb and forefinger, speaking almost to herself. “It’s late but the neighbors…you can’t just walk back out there and bring them in.”
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Edward heard another sound, glancing down the hall to see Mrs. Hughes, dressed in a warm house robe, appear at the corner. Even in the dim light, he could see how her eyes widened.
“Ed?” Mrs. Hughes rushed down the hall to envelop Edward in a hug that smelled of sweet soap and ever so faintly of tears. He stiffened, not expecting this from a woman he’d met twice, his arms hesitating to return the embrace. She pulled back, her hands resting on his shoulders, giving him the tiniest shake. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Cheeks flushing, Edward nodded, mumbling something he hoped sounded appropriate in return.
“Al’s waiting outside,” Winry’s brisk voice cut through any further embarrassment. “With the Xingese prince.”
Mrs. Hughes clutched the neck of her robe. “Oh. That makes it -”
Winry nodded sharply. “Difficult.”
Waving her hand, Mrs. Hughes said, “Not that it matters. Ed, you and your brother and your friend are welcome.” Even as she said it, Edward could read the strain in Mrs. Hughes’s eyes.
“What is it?” The question burst out of him. “What’s going on with the checkpoints and,” he tossed his hands in the air, wanting answers, not sure how to ask for them.
Winry faced him and Edward found himself searching for - something, he wasn’t sure what, but it seemed to be missing from Winry’s gaze. “We’re at war with Xing, Ed.” Her voice went flat. “Ran Fan accused the Fullmetal Alchemist, the Flame Alchemist and Riza Hawkeye of killing Yao Ling.”
X X X
Ling huddled closer to Alphonse, wishing Edward would just hurry up. The weather seemed to have taken a turn for the worse and he could feel Alphonse’s shivers all the way through his own body. If it wouldn’t attract attention, Ling would have started a fire to warm them both. With them hiding out between a pair of houses, he was sure someone would notice something that out of the ordinary. Then there was always the fear they might call a fire brigade - no, Ed would hate that.
“H-how m-much longer do you think it’ll be?” Alphonse’s teeth chattered.
“I don’t know.” Ling looped an arm around Alphonse’s shoulders. He frowned at the doorway, as if that would make a difference. What was taking Edward so long, anyway? He considered. Maybe the woman had gone to sleep? Ling wrinkled his nose. No, his grandmother would have thumped his skull for thinking that. Just because a woman had a child, or was older than he, himself was, did not make her feeble.
Next to him, Alphonse’s shivers nearly rattled Ling’s teeth. He tucked himself even closer. Alphonse would probably try to crawl inside Ling’s skin if it would keep him warmer. Ling shifted his weight, trying to wrap Alphonse in his embrace. Amestris was not as warm as the world they’d wound up in and Ling wished he - they - had warmer clothes. Or that Edward would hurry up and bring them into the house.
As if that wish was answered, the door opened and Edward stepped outside, raising his hand in farewell. He glanced up and down the street as he walked through the gate, breaking into a jog to cross the snow-covered road. Pain was evident in his lopsided gait. He jerked his head at Ling and Alphonse as he passed by their hideout, continuing down the walk.
Grumbling to himself, Ling half-hauled Alphonse to his feet. The two of them slipped out after Edward, following him at a distance as he turned the corner of the block. The wind blew harder down the east-west corridor, tugging at their clothes, dumping snow down the back of Ling’s coat. Edward turned the corner ahead, Alphonse pulling at Ling to move more quickly.
Edward waited for them, shifting from one foot to the other, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. Ling remembered a stray comment Edward had made, about his automail being so cold, he felt as if his whole body was freezing. “C’mon.” He beckoned them to follow, the hair blowing into his face not enough to hide his concern for Alphonse. There was something else though, something Ling couldn’t name. Alphonse noticed it, too, shooting Ling a confused look. They followed the elder Elric down an alley and to the back door of the woman’s home. Edward waved them on, frowning, obviously wanting them to hurry up. Alphonse entered the house ahead of Ling and Edward pulled the door to behind him.
“W-Winry?” Alphonse stood, dripping snow on the tiled floor, his eyes huge in his cold-reddened face.
“Hi, Al.” She opened her arms, drawing him into a hug. There was such warmth in embrace, Ling felt jealous for an instant, reminding himself he’d be welcomed home when he reached Xing. From where he stood across the room, Edward’s smile seemed bittersweet. Ling wondered at it. What had happened when Ed was in here alone?
Art by Yoporock
“It’s so good to see you!” Alphonse buried his face in the crook of her neck. Ling could just hear his whisper, “I missed you so much,” and had to turn to the woman standing nearer to Edward.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hughes, for giving us a place to rest,” he said, pressing his palms together and inclining his body toward her.
“It’s fine.” Her fingers twisting together showed more nervousness than her expression, though the fine lines around her eyes were tight. “You need to get warm. And a place to rest.”
“We need to contact someone to let them know there’re a couple of soldiers outside of town,” Edward hooked a thumb toward the west, where they’d arrived.
“A patrol?” Winry let go of Alphonse, though her hand still rested on his shoulder, as if to reassure herself he still stood there. “You guys took on a patrol?”
Edward scrubbed at the back of his head. “They took on us.”
“We’ll talk about that later, when you’re all comfortable.” Mrs. Hughes nodded at Ling. “Al, you’re shivering. Come with me. All of you.” She beckoned them further into the house. “You need to get dry and warm.”
“We can’t talk about it later, Mrs. Hughes. Those people could freeze.”
Winry shook her head at Alphonse’s exclamation. “If they haven’t checked in, someone will go looking for them.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“Nothing! I mean,” Edward waved his hands, trying to fend off that glare. “We just used alchemy to trap them. And take their guns.”
Alphonse offered his own reassurance. “We didn’t hurt them, Winry.”
Her expression darkened more. “So, soldiers will report a pair of alchemists with a Xingese man attacked them. And,” her gaze raked over the Elrics, “you two still stand out. This isn’t good. We need to start damage control, now.”
“Whu?” Edward’s mouth dropped open.
Sighing, Winry raked a hand through her bangs. “Just…go get dry. We’ll see what we can do.”
X X X
Chapter Four