Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wind whipped around them, and the swirling snow was blinding.  The cold penetrated everything, rendering their stolen coats useless.  Two figures, barely visible through the blowing curtains of white, fought the wind and accumulating snow.  One was taller with dark hair and dark eyes.  The other was shorter, with golden hair and golden eyes.  Both were alchemists. 

As they continued to trudge forward, they wondered how everything could have spun so far out of control, forcing them to fight for their lives against the elements.  Having come from an already bad situation, the sudden blizzard only made survival that much harder.    

Edward was limping.  His damaged automail leg crackled and sparked as the exposed wires came into contact with the wind and damp snow surrounding them.  His damp, golden hair whipped in the wind and stuck to his face, so he had to keep brushing it away, only to have it fly back again.  

Mustang, walking only a pace in front of Edward, stumbled as the deepening snow sucked further energy from his already abused and exhausted body.  At this point, even only a few inches of snow would have made walking difficult for the malnourished and battered Colonel, let alone a full-blown blizzard.  

The deepening snow also posed a problem for Edward.  However but besides hunger, he was in far better condition than the Colonel, despite his broken automail.

Both silently peered through the thickening snow as they continued forward, hoping to find some form of shelter before they succumbed to the frigid cold.

About three weeks earlier...

The order sitting on Mustang’s desk glared back at him in plain black and white.

Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, was to take Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, on a mission in the north near the Drachma border.  Mustang could not fathom why the mission was on his desk.

‘There are plenty of alchemists stationed in the north, and that Ice Queen is up there too.  What are they thinking?’

Mustang, in fact, knew precisely what the higher-ups of the Amestrian army were thinking.  Roy Mustang was a Colonel.  Although reaching the rank of Colonel in one’s twenties was not unheard of, generally, someone needed a little over twenty years of service before reaching the rank of Colonel.  However, as a State Alchemist, he had started as a Major, and due to his notoriety as the Hero of Ishval, he had quickly moved up the ranks.

As a Colonel, Mustang was a senior-ranked field officer.  Considering the circumstances of the mission, it was not surprising that the higher-ups wanted someone with a higher rank and experience on the mission.  Mustang, however, was not from the north.  While other officers knew the lay of the land and the people much better, Mustang was Edward Elric’s commanding officer, and the higher-ups wanted Edward on this mission. 

Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, was involved due to his exceptional skill, but more so as a means to provide Fullmetal with additional training since he was a young and newly admitted alchemist to the ranks. 

Edward had passed his State Alchemist test almost one year ago and had recently turned thirteen.  After receiving his license, Edward began fulfilling some of his duties.  However, but the army officials waited until he turned thirteen before assigning him more official responsibilities as a State Alchemist and a soldier in the army. 

Fortunately, the army would wait until Edward was sixteen before they would consider deploying him to the front lines of one – or more of – the many conflicts surrounding the nation’s borders.  Mustang himself sincerely hoped that Edward would find a way to restore his and his brother’s bodies before turning sixteen so that Edward could leave the army before then.

Mustang was one of the very few people who knew the real reason why Edward decided to become a dog of the military.  Edward and his brother Alphonse had committed an alchemist’s ultimate taboo, human transmutation.  They had attempted to create a human using alchemy so that they could revive their dead mother.  In the process, Edward lost a leg, and Alphonse lost his entire body.  To save his brother, Edward then gave his right arm in another transmutation to bind his brother’s soul to a suit of armor. 

Despite the cost of human transmutation, Edward had gained the ability to transmute without drawing a circle, and his abilities had gained the army’s notice.  So, Mustang had gone to recruit him, only to find he was an eleven-year-old child.  Now, Edward was using the many resources the military had to offer to search for a way to restore his and his brother’s bodies. 

The army had great expectations for Edward Elric, much like they had expectations of Mustang.  They had used Mustang’s skills in one of the nation’s most horrendous wars, a genocide, that the army had perpetrated.  Mustang never wanted Elric to experience the horrors that could come with being in the military. 

However, now that Edward was thirteen, he needed more training.  Hence, the orders were given for Mustang and Edward to go and complete the mission. 

The mission sitting on Mustang’s desk was simple reconnaissance.  The military had received word that a small rebel group, possibly associated with Drachma, the nation to the north, was gathering and making contact across the border.  The generals in Central wanted to confirm if such a group existed and, if so, gather information on them so that a larger force could be deployed to quell the rebels.

Mustang continued to glare at the orders until Hawkeye, who had been watching him for the last minute, interrupted.

“Staring at the orders will not make them disappear or help you finish the mission quickly.”

Mustang looked up at his trusty First Lieutenant, and she met his gaze.  Then, Mustang sighed.

“Yes, Lieutenant.  I understand.  I’m just considering all the potential…” he paused, trying to find the right words “…issues that might arise given my notoriety and Fullmetal’s required presence.  Although I understand the Fuhrer and the generals’ purpose, I am not keen on taking Fullmetal with me, even if they want him to gain experience.  It doesn’t help that the orders specifically state we are to go alone in order to keep the reconnaissance group small.  We won’t have backup.”

Mustang stood and began to pace, waving his hands.   

“First, as you know, normally such a mission would be conducted with a small group of trained soldiers who work well together, maybe with a Colonel, but even a Lieutenant Colonel would be more than adequate.”

He stopped for a moment and then continued with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Second, despite my rank, to require that I complete the mission with only one other person, especially someone who has no field experience or experience in reconnaissance whatsoever, is odd.  Normally, if such a mission were ordered of me, I would take you and at least one or two more members of the team.  Three to four people would keep our numbers down, enabling us to keep our cover, but also give us the necessary backup and experience on the team to complete it safely.”

Mustang stopped pacing to face his First Lieutenant. 

“If I am to only take Edward, despite his skill as an alchemist, it will be as if I am completing the mission solo.  I hoped to keep him busy on missions I assigned to him myself, and only those concerning the search for the stone, via whatever excuse necessary.  I wanted to keep him out of the way, so he and his brother could restore their bodies and be done with the military.  I was not expecting to take him on such a dangerous or delicate mission so soon, let alone a mission near the Drachma border, which makes it all the more dangerous.”

Risa Hawkeye silently watched her commanding officer pace as he laid out his thoughts on the mission.  She agreed with Mustang that the mission's directives were odd.  Both soldiers knew that this was by no means normal. 

When Hawkeye spoke, she spoke slowly, “Although I agree with you, the higher-ups may be considering the fact that both you and Edward are State Alchemists.  They may feel that only two people are necessary, even if one is new to the army and has no experience.”  Her voice almost faltered as she finished, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“I understand,” Mustang groaned, “but even from the few missions he has completed, it should be obvious that he is not ready!  He destroyed one and damaged several other buildings on his last mission, which garnered complaints.  Then, when he did fix them, he redesigned them with skulls, which caused even more complaints!”

The exasperation in Mustang’s voice was palatable.  Both officers looked at each other but knew nothing could be done.  The Fuhrer himself signed the order. 

Mustang sighed and sat back down at his desk.  He quickly signed the document and handed it to Hawkeye. 

“Please send this back to Central, and file it correctly, but keep a copy for yourself, two if you think it necessary.”  Mustang gave Hawkeye a pointed and knowing look.  

“I do not want this,” Mustang pointed at the document now in Hawkeye’s hands, “to get away from us.  I also want an order written for supplies.  I want a clear paper trail.  If anything goes sideways, I don’t want us to take the blame or give anyone an excuse to try and lay blame on us.  The higher-ups already don’t like me because I’ve advanced so quickly.  I don’t completely trust our military, and the more paperwork there is, the harder it will be to conceal it if anything does go wrong.  I have too many enemies to allow any complaints about how we conduct this mission.”

‘I hope.’  Mustang rubbed his eyes.  ‘Now, I only have to break the news to Fullmetal.’

Hawkeye gave Mustang a slight bow and left to make sure no one could make any accusations about the mission.  As she left, Hawkeye decided to ensure that General Gunman saw a copy of the orders before sending the signed paperwork back to Central, confirming that the Flame and Fullmetal alchemists were on the mission, a mission from the Fuhrer himself.  

Dishes, cups, pots, and pans were neatly stacked in the draining rack next to the sink.  Two clean, colorful, and precisely folded towels, one for hands and the other for dishes, hung from the stove handle.  The counters were clean and orderly. 

A woman stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the main hall, and she gazed longingly down the hall to her husband’s study.  He had cooped himself up in the study for weeks now, barely eating or sleeping, in his attempt to obtain a State Alchemist license. 

Behind the doors to the study, the husband bent over the failed transmutation.  A single candle lit the room, casting dark shadows on the walls.  His hands gripped his head, tearing at his hair.  His beard was coming in, and a slight smell emanated from him since he had neither shaved nor showered for some time in his attempt to make the transmutation perfect.  He felt himself and all his hopes spiraling downward.  He needed the transmutation to work so he could care for his family.  They had bills and a large debt to pay.

His thoughts spun.  ‘No, this has to work!  I need to make this work!’

As he knelt, trying to determine what had gone wrong with the latest transmutation, he squeezed his eyes shut.  He had attempted to fuse a monkey and a pig, two animals known for their high levels of intelligence.  He had drawn the transmutation circle to bring together the best qualities of both, but it was a failure.

Behind him, cold eyes gleamed down at the fumbling alchemist.  The observer had been invited to watch the alchemist’s potentially revolutionary attempt.  The eyes almost gleamed red as a sinister smile crept across the observer’s face.  The alchemist was useless to them, but that did not mean that the observer could not have some fun with the bumbling man.

“You wanted to make a chimera that could talk?  Right?”

The voice behind the alchemist made him jump.  He had almost forgotten about the observer in the room.

“I’m sorry this was such a disappointment.” The alchemist stood as he spoke, wringing his hands together nervously.

The observer’s sinister smile was quickly covered as the alchemist turned, but the eyes remained cold.

“You will never make it at this point, and you and your family will be destitute.  I may not be an alchemist, but I would think that with better materials, you might be more successful.”

The alchemist studied the observer, “You mean, Alexan…”

He stopped when the observer shook his head.  The observer then stepped forward and whispered in the alchemist’s ear.

“It involves bringing in another…”

Words almost became inaudible and initially were so horrifying that the alchemist balked.

“You cannot mean…,” shock played across the alchemist’s face as he stood and backed away from those cold and penetrating eyes.

The observer only nodded, “You can’t seriously think you’ll be successful without making sacrifices, don’t you?  Humans always make sacrifices, leaving the weak behind.  Scientists must do what is necessary to make strides toward progress, do they not?” 

“But how could I use… someone’s…”

The observer took a step forward, and the alchemist took a step back, “You’re a scientist, aren’t you?  It is the only way to succeed.  You can only do so much with animals, after all.  It will be much easier if you start with better materials, right?”

The alchemist shook his head, but the idea now planted in his mind began to grow unchecked, and the necessary transmutation circle took form in his mind.  He could be successful, but doubts as to whether the cost was worth the end product, the success of his years’ worth of research, whirled in his mind. 

The observer smiled as he saw the war playing out on the alchemist’s face.  “The opportunity is right there, in front of you.  You only have to take it in hand to be successful.”

The alchemist shook his head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” and with that, the observer disappeared.

The alchemist, however, did not notice as he dropped to his knees on the ground.  He battled between the slowly dimming horror and the enticing transmutation circle growing in his mind.

The wife, still standing in the kitchen door, sighed.  She always wondered why he chose bio-alchemy.  The results of his transmutations always made her feel uneasy, and his latest attempt to make a chimera that could talk seemed unnatural to her.  She shuddered as she turned to fondly watch her daughter sleeping on the floor of the living room, arms wrapped around the neck of the family dog, Alexander.  She felt her heart soften once again, and a smile spread across her face as it always did when she watched over their little one.  

Their daughter was their greatest achievement, and he was missing her growth.  He was trying to create a talking chimera, but with all his focus on alchemy, he had missed many of the first moments in their daughter’s life, from learning to walk, and ironically, learning how to talk.  A bittersweet feeling rose up in her heart and mind.  Too many arguments had surrounded their current financial state, and his obsessive need to create a talking chimera, which she believed contributed to their current financial struggles.

‘He tries so hard to make his chimeras talk, but he’s missing all the little things.  He has a daughter right here, and in his attempt to create a talking chimera, he even missed her first words.  He’s missing the important things that make life so precious.’

In the dark study, eyes gleamed with near madness as a plan formed in the mind of the alchemist, Shou Tucker.

Back at Eastern Command, when Edward returned with a sloppily written report later that afternoon, he was not happy with the long lecture from an irritated Mustang concerning how to complete a mission and write a report.  Edward was also exceedingly unhappy that he had to go on a mission with Mustang, especially one that had no bearing on returning his and his brother’s bodies to their normal forms.

Mustang sighed in exasperation, “I have no say in the matter, Fullmetal.  These orders are from the Fuhrer himself.  You made an impression with your cheeky attack during your exam, thus obtaining his interest.  Your missions over the last year have only fueled it further.  He thinks you need the experience, and whether he is amused or punishing us both, I cannot say, but there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“This is not what I signed up for, Colonel Bastard!  Anyway, that was almost a year ago!”

“Edward, that is not how you address your superior officers!”

“Like I care.  I’m only here to get Al’s and my bodies back.” 

Mustang took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, while Edward continued to glare, huffing.

“We do not have a choice, Fullmetal.  You made the decision to join the army, and there are certain responsibilities with the postion that lie beyond your own purposes.  Furthermore, I have already signed the orders indicating that we are leaving.  You will need to prepare for the mission and meet me tomorrow at 0900 hours to catch the northbound train.  Alphonse will need to stay here.  He will be fine with Hawkeye and the others keeping watch over him.”

“Now, you will need…” and Mustang began to detail the orders for the mission, what Edward would need to pack, transportation arrangements, and potential threats.

“Finally, we will need a cover for the mission.  As soon as you step out of this office, the next time you see me, you will address me as Mr. Whitmore, and you will be my apprentice, Henry.  We will pose as an alchemy master and apprentice.”

“What?  Why?  I don’t want the likes of…”

“Fullmetal,” Mustang barked, and Edward went silent.  “I realize that you have no desire to ‘learn’ alchemy from me, even as a cover.  However, we need a cover that allows us to use alchemy in case we need it.  It will also give us an excuse to go into stores for supplies or even into the woods for so-called practice.  We, by no means, are to allow anyone to know we are state alchemists.  So, bring chalk and try to avoid clap alchemy if you can when in front of others.”

Mustang leveled his eyes on Edward.  “The higher-ups think I can blend in with the surrounding people.  However, it will be important to use my cover name during this mission.  The Drachmans have heard of me, and some may even have a description of me.  By no means is anyone to find out who I am, or for that matter, who you are, just in case the Drachmans are, in fact, involved.  You may be relatively new, but all precautions must be made.” 

Mustang continued, “The border region is not safe.  So again, do not use clap-alchemy.  Even I won’t use my flame alchemy unless absolutely necessary.  We may even be asked to do some alchemy when people find out we are master and apprentice alchemists, so we need to put on a good show as average alchemists.” 

“I get it!  I get it!  This is a crucial mission, and maintaining secrecy is essential.  You’ve said it a million times.  I do know the meaning of reconnaissance.  I’m not stupid, but I don’t have to like the restrictions on my alchemy or the requirement to be your student!”

“You don’t have to like that you’re posing as my student, but it’s a good cover for us.  As for the reconnaissance, it is not a matter of knowing or not knowing the word and its meaning.  It is a matter of experience, Fullmetal.  The higher-ups want you on this mission, not just because you are a skilled alchemist, but because you need field training and experience.  It will be imperative that you listen to me.  It could be the difference between life and death.”

Edward, however, rolled his eyes. 

‘How hard can this be?  You just have to stay hidden and look for the bad guys.  It’s not like I need a babysitter or someone telling me how to look for and gather information on some renegade group of rebels.  Ugh, and this whole cover story just sounds like a big waste of time that will slow us down!’   

Mustang interrupted Edward’s internal complaints.  “Alright, go back to the barracks and get ready.  You should also explain the situation to Alphonse.  He needs to know that he should stay here.”

“He’s not one of your dogs!  So, you can’t order him around!”

“Edward!  You are going on a mission, and your brother is to stay here.  He is too conspicuous, and it will help keep him safe.”

Edward glared at Mustang but turned on his heel to walk out the door.

“Fine.”

“Ah, Edward.” Mustang called to Edward just before he left Mustang’s inner office, “Remember, after we return, there will only be a little bit of time before your first assessment.  State Alchemists have yearly assessments.  You should have enough time after we return, but it won’t be a lot of time.  Can you be prepared?”

Edward rolled his eyes, “Of course I’ll be ready.  I could have the report written up in the time it takes to ride the train from here to Resembool.  That means I can have it done before we even reach North City tomorrow.  I might as well get the stupid stuff out of the way while I’m being distracted by unnecessary things, even if it will be early.  It’s their fault for giving me a mission so close to the assessment.  I’m going to want to go back to finding a way to get our bodies back as soon as we return from this dumb mission, you hear?  I don’t want to do the dumb report then.”

Edward pointed his finger at Mustang and then spun around to stalk out the door.  As he went, he called to his brother, “Al, we’re…”

The door shut, cutting off whatever Edward was about to say to Al.  Mustang rested his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes.  Edward’s report was shoved unceremoniously to one corner of Mustang’s desk, almost forgotten.  Mustang picked up the phone and dialed, dreading his friend’s reaction when he realized who was calling.

“Lieutenant Colonel Hughes speaking...”

And Mustang proceeded to unleash his torrent of questions concerning how to deal with what he called an annoying brat on a highly sensitive mission.

Outside the room, the rest of the team looked up as the door shut behind Edward. 

“Al, we’re leaving.”

“Hear you’re going on a mission up north with the Boss, Chief.”  Havoc leaned back, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Really, Brother?  We haven’t seen the north before.”

“Sorry, Al, but he says you can’t go with us.  I’ll explain more back at the barracks.”

“It will be a good experience for you, kid.”  Breda leaned forward.  “I hear they have great food, too!”

“You’ll be able to learn a lot with this mission,” Furey smiled, and Falman nodded behind him.

Edward smirked, “Yeah, thanks, guys.  I guess I’ll see you when we get back.”

Hawkeye stopped him before he could turn to leave.  She was holding a hiking backpack from one of its straps.

“What’s this?” Edward gave Hawkeye a confused look.

Hawkeye smiled, “You’ll need a backpack for your things.  You’ll be hiking through the woods after all.  You don’t want to have to carry a suitcase around on this mission.”

Edward sighed, “Thanks.”

A chorus of farewells followed Edward and Alphonse out the door, and the brothers made their way through the halls of Eastern Command to the outside world. 

Above them, the sky was a stormy grey, ready with the threat of rain.  Edward’s ports had begun to ache almost as soon as they stepped off the train when they returned to East City earlier that day, and before they returned to the office.  Their return and the new mission only served to worsen Edward’s mood.  Alphonse was curious about the mission but decided to wait until his brother was ready to talk. 

The brothers said nothing as they walked down the streets, which were rapidly emptying of people trying to escape the looming threat from above.  October storms were particularly harsh in the East as the weather transitioned from summer to fall.

The darkness of the room was absolute.  The only breaks in the perpetual dark were the hundreds of gleeful but sinister half-mooned eyes and sharp, bared teeth. 

“We cannot have him moving around too much and risk losing him.” The disembodied voice that echoed around the room was factual and paused for only a second before echoing out eerily and haughtily, “If we lose our sacrifice, Father will be displeased.”

“Hmm,” another voice joined the conversation.  This voice was even and calm.  It sounded as if it would remain the same if discussing the weather or impending death.  However, the tone also conveyed such cool firmness that it revealed one would be wise to never anger them.  

“Well, yes.  We will need to keep a close eye on Edward Elric.  We cannot have him meet his end before he has fulfilled his purpose.  However, concerning the mission on which I sent him, as a confirmed sacrifice, his skill with alchemy is proof enough that he can handle most situations that may come his way.  We do not need him interfering with our current plan, so I am ensuring he is kept busy.”

The disembodied voice grew darker, “And of Mustang?”

“He is an arrogant fool.  We need to keep him busy as well.  There are ways to make him bend to our will and control him with the useless emotions he keeps for those around him.  Especially as he, too, has the potential to be a candidate for sacrifice.”

Once the calm voice stopped speaking, the darkness vanished, and the Fuhrer turned to look out the window at the world below, where a red jacket and a large suit of armor disappeared down the road.

Chapter Text

Edward kicked a stone on the ground as he and Alphonse approached the barracks.  Edward looked up at the sky and sighed just as the first raindrops began to fall.  Alphonse gave Edward a sidelong glance, his heavy metal body clanking with each step.  However, neither brother said a word as they made their way into the building.  Just as they entered, the rain picked up, creating a steady beat against the building. 

The brothers navigated the halls to their room.  Edward entered first, and Alphonse followed, closing the door behind him before turning to face his older brother, curiosity gnawing away at him.

Edward stood with his back to Alphonse, his thoughts swirling in a jumbled mess.  Edward did not want to tell Alphonse that he would have to stay behind.  When Edward heard the quiet snick of the door closing, he took a deep breath and turned to face Alphonse. 

“Mustang was ordered to go on a mission with me to the north.  He wants to find out if some rebel group is associating with Drachma.  I mean, the group itself is still just a rumor, even if there is evidence of people crossing the border!  I have no idea why they want both of us to go together on this mission.  Why not Mustang and some of his other people?”

Alphonse shifted uneasily, “Drachma?  Isn’t that dangerous?” 

Edward gave Alphonse a look and scoffed, “Dangerous?  We’ve both seen enough danger, and Teacher survived up there.  We could do it too.  Anyway, I have to pack for cold weather and take on the cover name Henry of all things!”

Alphonse snickered, moving further into the room, “Henry?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Go ahead and laugh.  I have to go to the station alone, too.  We don’t want anyone seeing us off for the sake of our cover.”  Edward sat on the bed and turned his head, not making eye contact with Alphonse, a slight grimace on his face.  “It’s stupid.  You’re not allowed to come.”

“Oh…” Alphonse’s shoulders drooped.

Edward waved his hand.  “During his monologue about the mission, Mustang said he would get Hawkeye to take you to the library for books so you can continue researching if you want.  We’ll be gone for about a month.  If we don’t find anything in that time, they want to send another group to avoid suspicion since our cover only has us there for supplies and training.  I have to be Mustang’s alchemy apprentice.”   

“What?” Alphonse laughed, “You?  Mustang’s apprentice?”

Edward gave Alphonse a baleful glare.  “They want to give us an excuse to use basic alchemy if we need to, without breaking cover.”

“Well, it sounds like everything is all planned out, Brother, so just listen to Mustang, okay?  He does know what he’s doing.  You haven’t been on a reconnaissance mission before.”

Edward grunted and scowled.

Edward spent the rest of the night preparing.  However, the whole time Edward packed the small backpack Hawkeye had given him, he ranted and complained about the upcoming mission, especially about Alphonse being left behind and Mustang’s unnecessary presence. 

In the morning, Alphonse roused Edward and sent him off with another warning not to argue too much with Mustang and to listen to him.  Edward merely grumbled and made his way to the train station, where he found Mustang sitting sleepily on one of the benches, yawning. 

Before Edward could say anything, Mustang noticed him and called out cheekily, “Good Morning, Henry, glad you made it with time to spare.”

Edward merely sat down sulkily with a huff. 

Mustang smirked.  “Now, that’s no way to address your Master, Henry.  We’re supposed to get along since you’re my apprentice.”

Edward heard the warning in Mustang’s voice and his subtle prodding about how to act to keep their cover.  Edward, however, just continued to glare.

“I’m tired.  I didn’t sleep well.” Edward slouched and crossed his arms.

The excuse was the best Edward could come up with.  Before Mustang could chastise him, a whistle blew, and they were distracted by the approaching train.  They watched as it pulled into the station, dark smoke billowing from the smokestack.

Mustang stood with a smile, “Time to go, Henry.”

Once on the train, Edward sat by the window, pretending to be intensely interested in everything going on outside.  On the other hand, Mustang watched Edward for a moment before sitting back and pulling out the morning paper, which he had stuffed in a side pocket of his backpack.  Then, pretending to read, he tried to calm down.  He had called Hughes the night before for any advice the man might have regarding how to deal with children.

Mustang ran through their conversation once more in his head.   

“I don’t know the kids yet, but the best thing to do is to be patient and keep calm.  He’ll try to rattle you.  He is a teenager, after all, for goodness' sake.  What do you expect?  And from what you just told me, you don’t get along too well.  Not to mention that he’s been on his own for so long.  How did that happen? 

“Anyway, remember, even if he doesn’t admit it, he’s probably nervous and probably a bit cocky, but weren’t we also that way when we were his age?  This is his first recon mission, and he doesn’t have his brother with him.  He’ll need to learn to hold his cover.  He’ll have his good days and bad days.  He’s still a kid, and he’ll act like it.”

Mustang groaned.  “But he’s a soldier now, and he should act like one.  He’s been taking care of himself, and it’s been nearly a year since he entered the military.  He should be able to act with some maturity.”

Hughes huffed, “And… he’s a soldier because you recruited him.  He does have responsibilities as a soldier.  But, even if he did have to grow up quickly, and no matter what he’s seen, he’s still young.  You’re going to have to treat him like a soldier, and probably like an adult, but at the same time, you’ll need to remember he’s still a child.”

Mustang leaned back in his chair.  “A kid who’s seen hell.  He’s not as naïve as other kids his age.”

Mustang could practically see Hughes shaking his head as he spoke.  “Even so… he shouldn’t have had to see whatever it was at his age.  An adult in the same situation has a different perspective on such things.  He may have grown up too fast, but he still needs supportive adults.”      

Mustang glanced at Edward as he came back to the present.  Edward was still looking out the window, pretending that Mustang did not exist and inwardly hoping to finish the mission as soon as possible so he could return to his brother and begin searching for the Philosopher’s Stone once more.

Mustang shook his head.  This kid is going to be the death of me…

The train continued to move forward along the tracks, and so, the hours rolled by as they made their way north, intentionally ignoring each other for sanity’s sake.

The train’s brakes squealed with a high-pitched ringing due to the cold as the train came to a stop in Aszamen.  Earlier, in North City, they had switched trains and begun their trek to the small city east of the northern capital.  From this point forward, Mustang and Edward would move by car or on foot to avoid suspicion and to facilitate their reconnaissance of the area for the supposed rebel group. 

As they disembarked, the thin layer of snow on the ground hinted at the severity of the oncoming winter in the northern territories of Amestris.  

Edward looked around, surprised, “It’s October!  Why the hell is there snow on the ground in October?”

White puffs of breath lingered in the air, and Mustang smiled, “We’re up north, Fu... Henry.  This is not the southeast, and they are expecting a cold winter this year.”

Edward glared at Mustang.  “Yes, Mr. Whitmore…”

Edward’s sarcasm made Mustang’s eye twitch.  “You should treat your Master with respect, apprentice Henry.”

Edward just harrumphed and walked away faster.  Mustang followed but smirked, “Do you know where the hotel is, Henry?  I don’t recall telling you where we would be staying.”

Edward froze and, turning around, gaped at Mustang, “Wha’?”

“We’re staying in the Rail-House Inn tonight.” Mustang pointed to the building he was standing in front of, which Edward had just passed.

“Well, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Smirking, Mustang turned toward the door.  “Come on.  I need to get my apprentice out of the cold now, don’t I?”

Edward seethed as Mustang chuckled at Edward’s expense.  ‘I’m going to kill the bastard before the first night is over!’

Back on the train platform, Tucker stepped off the very same train the two alchemists had vacated minutes before.  Tucker shifted uneasily.  He had an informant to find, but that could wait until the next day.  The observer had returned as he promised and directed Tucker to the small city of Azamen to find a supplier for raw materials.  First, Tucker needed to check into the Rail-House Inn, just one building down the main street from the station.  As he made his way, he saw the tail end of a dark coat entering the building and fresh tracks in the snow leading away from the small station.

‘Someone else must have been on the train and is staying here.  I’ll have to be careful that I’m not recognized, just in case.’

Paranoia began to eat at Tucker.  The observer was keen that no one recognize him.  No one could know the plan.  Otherwise, he would be in contempt of his calling as an alchemist.  Alchemist, be thou for the people.  He was straying from the path.

‘But it’s only a little bit and only for now!  In the long run, the greatness, the good that will come of my research will far outweigh this decision.  That’s why I’m here!’

Peering through one of the Rail-House Inn’s front windows, Tucker saw the backs of a dark-haired man and blond-haired boy talking to the receptionist, who was laughing at something they said.  He did not recognize them from behind.  He watched as the man and boy left the reception desk and made their way toward a hall leading back into the building.  Only once they were out of sight did Tucker move to enter the building.  

“Good evening!”

The receptionist’s cheerful voice filled the room, making the already comfortably warm space feel even more welcoming.  Although the Inn was called the Rail-House Inn, they received very few customers from the train, and most stayed because they needed a place for the night before continuing on their journey.  Very few stayed in the town, and today the owner was thrilled as they had reservations for three guests.

“Good evening, I have a reservation for a Mr. Herring, a single room, please.”

“Very well!  Would you like a second-floor room or a ground-floor room?  We still have both available!”

Tucker thought for a moment, “A ground-floor room would suffice.”

As the receptionist turned to open the locked drawer and retrieve a key, Tucker leaned against the counter.  “The pair who came in before me, did they also just arrive by train?”

The receptionist turned back around, the key dangling from her fingers, her smile sympathetic.  “I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot talk about the other customers for their privacy."

Tucker feigned a look of chagrin and apologized, "Thank you, I hope you have a good night."

The receptionist gave a slight bow, "You too, sir.  Sleep well, and if you need anything, please ring for assistance."

Mustang was smirking as they walked toward their room, Edward trailing behind Mustang sleepily.  

‘That receptionist was pretty-faced, and Edward played his part as the apprentice well,’ Mustang mused.

When they entered the building, Edward stayed close to Mustang's side.  When Mustang introduced himself, asking for the room reserved for them, Edward greeted the receptionist cordially and with the sincerity of a normal young man, rather than the brash and cocky greetings he usually gave.  Even though Edward disliked the Colonel, he still wanted to prove he could do well, so Mustang would not be able to criticize him. 

Surprisingly, when the receptionist made the mistake of asking if the pair were father and son, both remained calm, even if Edward almost flew into a tirade of shouts.  Mustang then informed her that Edward was his apprentice and they were here on business, to which Edward only nodded emphatically.  The receptionist, handing over the key, had laughed at their awkward expressions and bade them goodnight as they made their way toward the hall to their room. 

Now, Mustang and Edward stood in front of the door with a brass number nine nailed onto it.  The number matched the number etched into the key.  Mustang, with the key in hand, was ready to unlock the door.

"Hurry up already," Edward groused from behind him.

"Just give me a minute, Henry."  Mustang placed an extra emphasis on Edward's cover name, and Edward glared at him.

Mustang turned the lock, and soon both were inside.  Edward immediately rushed to the bed by the window.  He unceremoniously flopped down on top of it, dropping his backpack by the foot of the bed as he went.

"This one's mine!"

Mustang closed the door behind them and just shook his head.  As he turned, facing the room, he directed his attention at Edward, "By the way, good job out there."

Edward, who was now lying on his back, turned his head to look at Mustang.  "What?"

"You did a good job holding your temper when the receptionist thought you were my son," Mustang grimaced at the word ‘son’ as did Edward.

"Ugh!  Don't even remind me!"

Edward accentuated his words by throwing a pillow at Mustang's head, which Mustang caught.

"I’m scarred for life!” Edward wailed, rolling on the bed.  “How could she make that mistake!  We look nothing alike, and who would want you for a father?  You’re a power-hungry, manipulative bastard only out for his next promotion!”

Mustang smirked, “And you’re a brat.”

Edward shot up to a kneeling position, pointing an accusatory finger at Mustang.  “Who you calling so small they have to use a microscope to see them?!”

Edward went to grab his second pillow, but Mustang’s smirk just widened.  “If you throw that thing at me, I won’t give it back.”

Edward’s arm stopped mid-motion, just as it began its forward arch to throw the second pillow.  He gave Mustang a curious glare, “You’re not going to keep the first one… are you?”

Mustang’s smirk just widened even more, but Hawkeye’s and Hughes’s words flitted through his mind.  Words of wisdom so that he could make it back from the mission, not just alive and with their cover intact, but also sane.

“You can’t provoke him, sir.  You have to be the adult.”

“I am an adult…”

“Yes, but you have to remember this is Edward’s first time on a reconnaissance mission.  If you rib or tease him… because you do… it will make it more difficult for him to hold his cover.  Use the cover as a means to guide your interaction and act like a serious alchemy teacher.  Treat him like a serious apprentice, even when he tries to provoke you.”

And then Mase, “He's still a kid, and he'll act like it."

Sighing, Mustang shook his head, “I’ll give it back.”

Edward’s eyes widened, lowering the pillow still in his hand.  It was apparent he did not expect that response.

Edward’s eyes then narrowed, “What’s the rub?”

Mustang’s face betrayed his shock.  “Nothing!  What do you take me for?  While we’re here, we are a simple master and apprentice.  How do you think a master and apprentice would act?”  Mustang paused, “Oh, just so you know, behind closed doors, it’s sort of okay to use our real names, but for all intents and purposes, we should maintain the ruse even when alone.  We need to be professional about this.”

“We’re supposed to be professional back at Eastern Command, too.”  Edward gave Mustang a sideways look, confused skepticism shadowing his face.

Moving toward the second bed, Mustang tossed Edward the pillow as he placed his bag on the floor.  Edward caught the pillow and clutched it, like Mustang might demand it back.

Mustang faced Edward, “Yes, but right now, we’re on a mission, so professionalism is even more important – even if the act we put on isn’t quite professional.  We cannot afford to slip up and give ourselves away.  It’s easier to slip if we don’t maintain the cover, even behind closed doors.  You’re still rather new to the military, so you’re still relatively unknown.  However, you are gaining a name for yourself, not just as the youngest state alchemist but also as a hero to the people.  People know me, as well.  This is why it’s so important that we do not make any mistakes.”

Edward flopped down once more and shifted onto his back, all the while rolling his eyes and grumbling, “Yeah, sure, fine.  You told me all of this already.”

“I’m only repeating it because it is important, and this is your first time on a mission like this.  Everyone needs reminders from time to time, especially when they first start out – even if they’ve been on many missions.”

“Fine.”  

Edward rolled onto his side, his back facing Mustang, and Mustang let the subject drop.  Later, Mustang ordered dinner and watched in fascination as Edward devoured more food than someone his size ever should be able to eat.  Conversation was sparse, and after dinner, there was nothing left to do but sleep and wait for the next day to come.

The next morning was bright and warm, although not unseasonably so.  However, the snow from the previous day had melted to reveal the dying grass underneath.  Mustang stretched as he stood by the window.  Edward’s muffled snores sounded behind him.  Mustang’s face softened a little.  Edward was sprawled on the bed, his hand resting on his stomach, exposing it by pushing up his shirt. 

“He almost looks like a kid when he’s asleep.”

Mustang frowned.

“If I didn’t know what he’s seen and the hell he’s lived through, it might be cute.  He almost seems like a typical teenager like this, but he’s not.”

Mustang faced the window once more, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I hope he finds the stone soon.  The sooner, the better.”

Two rooms down the hall, Tucker roused himself from sleep.  His plan was to meet with his informant today and begin working out the details of selecting and transferring the materials.  By mid-week, Tucker hoped he would have what he needed and be on his way back to East City.    

‘Then, I will finally be able to make my speaking chimera and gain my State Alchemist license.  Then, I will be known as one of the most prominent bio-alchemists!’

The light in Tucker’s eyes was bright but not at all steady.

Mustang eventually woke the still-sleeping Edward, and after many complaints about being tired and after eating breakfast at the Inn’s dining room, the two left and trekked to the shopping district.  There, they would gather ‘supplies’ so that Mr. Whitmore could ‘teach’ Henry some practical things about alchemy. 

Their first day passed with little incident, and Mustang and Edward met many of the shopkeepers.  Mustang was able to establish a rapport he hoped would help engender a friendly relationship with the town’s people so he could gather gossip. 

On their second day in town, one shop stood out.  The shop was tucked nicely in the middle of town and, at first glance, looked just like its façade portrayed.  It was a knick-knack shop, full of odds and ends, but also sold many useful things for around the home.  People would sell old or broken items to the owner, who would fix and polish them, and then sell them for a profit.  After visiting the shop, Mustang was sure there was more to the shop than met the eye. 

However, before visiting the shop, the townspeople discovered that ‘Mr. Whitmore’ and ‘Henry’ were alchemists when a cart lost its wheel, and Mustang helped fix it.  After that, a few requests came for them once the people made their discovery.  Mustang skillfully, to Edward’s surprise, completed most of the requests.  Mustang had Edward complete the others as ‘practice’ under his ‘observation.’  

Much to Edward’s surprise, Mustang was not overbearing in his instruction.  For Mustang’s own feats, his instructions looked more like explanations to the rest of the town, which he claimed also served as lessons for his young pupil.  Mustang did the same for Edward’s tasks, and Edward saw the approving nods of many of the men and women.  Mustang had directed his womanizing charms toward establishing the trust of the town.  

When Mustang and Edward entered the knick-knack shop, no one was in sight.  Mustang had been listening for gossip and eavesdropping since they began their investigation the previous day.  As Mustang continued to move further into the shop, he could hear the shopkeeper on the phone, so he slipped toward the back to eavesdrop.  Meanwhile, Edward began looking over the trinkets around the shop, picking them up and inspecting them.  The shop offered a wide range of items, from toys and household goods to work gear.  There was even a plow in one corner.  Edward willfully ignored Mustang and continued to browse.

At the back, Mustang caught the tail end of the conversation.

“…not to be seen.  You’ll expose us if you are.  I have to go.  Some customers just came in.”

Mustang moved away from the back door and quickly moved toward the store's front, pretending to observe some items.  Edward watched out of the corner of his eye.  

The shopkeeper came to the front, “Good afternoon, I’m sorry I was not here to greet you earlier.  I had an important call to make.” 

Mustang nodded to the shopkeeper, but Edward ignored them as he continued to move about the shop.  It was then that a young couple entered.

The shopkeeper greeted them by name, “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Manning.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Greets!”  Mr. Manning then saw Mustang and Edward.

“Oh!  Mr. Whitmore!  Henry!”  Mr. Manning turned his attention back to the shopkeeper, “Mr. Greets, these two are alchemists.” He gestured to Mustang and Edward.  “Maybe they can help you fix up some of your projects so you can get them to the front of the store faster!"

The shopkeeper looked at Mustang and Henry, “I couldn’t without compensating…”

Mustang merely smiled.  “It’s no worry, my young apprentice would like the practice fixing a few small things,” Mustang jumped at the opportunity to see the back of the store.  His mind was already trying to discern all the potential meanings of the conversation he had heard earlier.

“He’s already had this particular lesson and needs some practice.  It will be good for him!”

Edward refrained from glaring and followed the shopkeeper, who showed him to the back room.  Toys that still needed to be fixed were lying on a workbench.  Mustang followed them into the room and found an oddly placed door suspicious.  The door seemed to lead to a closet in the corner.  The closet jutted into the room but only took up approximately a half-square meter.  It looked like it was a very small closet, and the many shelves with products and tools hanging from pegs around the room made the closet seem unnecessary.   

‘I wonder what that is for?’  Mustang mused but quickly diverted his attention to avoid suspicion.  

On top of the workbench, Edward drew the proper circle with chalk and activated the array.  The toys came together, pristine and new.  Mr. and Mrs. Manning, who had also followed them, craning their necks to look over Mustang’s shoulder, watched in awe and began to congratulate the young alchemist.

Edward sighed.  ’If only they knew… well, then they’d actually hate us.  Well, hopefully, they won’t recognize us, but none of this alchemy is even close to what we do as State Alchemists.  They probably can’t tell, but still, it feels wrong.’ 

After several minutes, everyone moved back into the shop.  The Manning's picked out their items while Mustang and Edward left.    

The first two days in town, Tucker met with his informant and supplier.  The man owned a knick-knack shop as a front for his real business.  All of their transactions were to take place in the shop under the guise that Tucker, as Mr. Herring, was asking for a custom piece. 

The shopkeeper was a supplier of goods for individuals and groups who wanted to fly under the radar.  The merchandise ranged from food supplies to weapons and government-controlled substances to trafficked people.  The town was perfect due to its location.  The blissfully unaware townspeople did not know what truly lurked below their streets in a small series of natural and man-made tunnels leading to the forest in the north. 

The first day, Tucker met with the supplier, and they confirmed that the supplier could, in fact, provide him with the necessary resources.  At the time, the supplier needed to contact his network and confirm when they could deliver the resources that Tucker requested.  So, their meeting ended quickly.   

The second day, Tucker met the supplier in the early afternoon as arranged.  Unbeknownst to them at the same time, there was a commotion just outside the shopping district, where Mustang had just fixed the cart.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Herring.  How are you today?  I was able to confirm that your supplies can be ready tomorrow morning for your observation.”

Tucker’s eyes light up, “Yes, thank you!”  He was not expecting to be able to obtain the product so soon.

“Can you come early tomorrow, right before the store opens?”

“Yes, what time?”

The supplier tilted his head, thinking.  “Six in the morning will be good.  Come to the back door.  People will be less likely to see you.”

“I can do that.” Tucker nodded.

Tucker left the shop again, and a young couple entered after him.  The supplier hid a grimace.  While he had made arrangements with his network the day prior, he wanted to finalize the logistics with his accomplices quickly.  While the town was in the middle of nowhere, one could never be too careful, especially if they wanted to be sure the people stayed unaware of the tunnels underneath their town.  The supplier never kept merchandise in the basement for long.  Otherwise, they risked someone finding out – the townsfolk being as friendly and inquisitive as small-town folk are.  Once the supposed “Mr. Herring” confirmed the merchandise, the supplier’s men would remove it and prepare it for transport.  Then, the supplier would have his payday and an empty basement free of anything suspicious.

Once the young couple left, the supplier slipped into the back to make the call to his accomplices.  It was then that Mustang and Edward entered the shop, and the supplier, with an eye roll, quickly finished the call.  There were far too many people coming into his shop of late – he couldn’t conduct his real business as easily as he liked with the shop front, but he knew it was a good cover.    

Later that evening, Tucker, who had returned to the Inn after his meeting with the supplier, decided it was time to eat at one of the local restaurants.  It was as Tucker entered the Inn's main foyer to leave that he saw them in full view, rather than from behind, like the day he arrived.  Although Tucker had heard the rumors of the two alchemists visiting town, he had yet to see them properly. 

As Mustang and Edward entered the Inn, Tucker jerked to a halt, quickly stepping backward, and turning hurried back to his room.  Just as he closed the door, Mustang and Edward entered the hallway and began to make their way back to their room.

Tucker waited.  Once he was sure the hallway was clear, he opened his door ever so slightly and heard the telltale click of a door shutting.  Tucker stepped out of his room, looking down the hall with trepidation toward Mustang and Edward’s room.

‘That was the Flame and Fullmetal alchemists!  Why are they here?  The two alchemists in town are them?!  What if they… No, they couldn’t know.’ 

Tucker’s eyes narrowed.

‘I’ll have to be even more careful.’

After returning to their hotel room, Edward turned on Mustang, “I know it's part of our cover, but how does our being alchemists help our mission?  We were barely able to do anything this afternoon!  I thought we were supposed to keep it a secret unless absolutely necessary.  The town seems relatively normal to me, and I don’t like deceiving them.”

“We’re undercover, Edward.  We were going to be deceiving them from the start since we have fake names.”

“I just don’t like doing the alchemy and pretending we’re not… you know.  Now that we’re doing so much alchemy, it just seems like we’re taking it too far.”

Mustang paused for a moment, then spoke.  “’Alchemist, be thou for the people.’  The way I see it, we get… or, more specifically, I have the opportunity to live up to this truer aspect of being an alchemist with the name Mr. Whitmore.”

Edward observed Mustang more closely and could see the satisfaction on his face.  In fact, Mustang was feeling much better about today than he had felt in a long time, especially concerning his use of alchemy.   

“Well, whatever,” Edward grumbled.

Mustang faced Edward, “While you were fixing the few trinkets for the knick-knack shop owner, I was able to look around a bit.  As you said, the town seems relatively innocuous.  However, the knick-knack shop owner seems suspicious.  I heard him say something interesting on the phone just after we entered.  If the rebel group does exist and has any connection further into Amestris, then this is a prime location, and they could be moving through his shop. 

Mustang nodded, “I’m already of the opinion that the rebel group probably exists, especially considering the idle gossip in town.”

“You used alchemy to get the people gossiping and to talk to you!”

Edward was shocked, and Mustang only shook his head in exasperation.

“Yes, Fullmetal.  Back to what I was saying, the rebels could easily use this town to move supplies.  The knick-knack shop would be a good cover.  The town is strategically located.  It’s out of the way, but still a good stopping point in between cities with more traffic.  It’s big enough to hide in but not big enough to have a large military presence to surveil the area.  It’s also slightly farther north than other cities along this part of the railway and closer to less populated areas north-east of North City and south of Briggs.  Lastly, it’s close to the borders, but far enough into Amestris to be an inroad for goods from outside the borders, unlike some of the other towns and cities closer to the borders.  We’ll need to check out the shop more carefully tomorrow.”

“Originally, we were here for supplies for the rest of our mission and to help solidify our cover.  We needed people to see us somewhere before we head farther north-east, where the rumors of the rebel group are coming from.  But it seems we might have stumbled upon something else.”

Edward tilted his head to one side.  “So what are we going to do?”

“You’re going to go buy a few things from the shop while I have a look around back.  You’ll need to keep the owner busy for about an hour.  Our story will be that you’re buying some things to practice your transmutations and that we’ll be heading north into the woods for some survival training this weekend.  If asked, that’s all you should say.  Though if you do see anything useful, be sure to buy it.  We’ll be hiking to Egmuridcu, a city north and slightly east of here.  We’ll pass by Fisk, but we won’t stop there.”

“So, we’ll be in town for three more days?”

“Two and a half of sorts.  We’ll leave early Friday.  So, we’ll be in town tomorrow and Thursday.  Our story will give us one free day and one day to prepare all the necessary supplies before we leave on Friday.  We need to keep to our schedule.  So, I need to determine if the knick-knack shop owner is involved in any way, tomorrow.  I’ll need evidence if we are to intervene.  Everything I have is guesswork at this point.  If we really need to, we can hang out in the woods nearby and keep an eye on any nightly encounters that might occur.  If the rebels do move product through this town or use it to obtain resources, there should be some evidence nearby.”

“Won’t the town’s people get suspicious?”

“Not if they don’t suspect a rebel group is working around town.”

“That’s dumb.  Townspeople in places like this get suspicious of outsiders.”

“We just proved ourselves to be innocent traveling alchemists.  Alchemists travel Amestris and stop by towns or go off on survival training all the time.”

“You mean you actually did survival training?”

Mustang gave Edward an incredulous glare. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.  Even if most of my training was at my master’s home, there was a bit of survival training.  An alchemist needs to be of a strong mind, body, and soul.”

“You mean as an initiation to your alchemy training?  Were you deserted on an uninhabited island with only a knife and the clothes on your back by your teacher?”

“What?  No, what kind of idiotic nonsense are you spouting?  Yes, I had survival training, but we did have some equipment, and I was taught what to do if I found myself in a situation without that equipment.  Although I had a substitute of sorts as my teacher was not able to oversee that part of my training due to his health.” 

Edward just smirked and rolled over on his bed, “Well, good for you and your amazing survival training.  Goodnight, Mr. Whitmore.”

Mustang cringed at Edward’s overly sarcastic tone but chose to ignore the little alchemist and turn in for the night himself.

Chapter Text

On the third morning, Tucker prepared to go to the shop early and left the Inn as the sun began to rise.  Tucker wrung his hands nervously as he approached the knick-knack shop.  He was happy they were meeting before the shop opened and before most people were awake and in the shopping district.  His discovery the previous night that there were two State Alchemists in town rattled him.

Tucker knocked on the back door.  The supplier opened the door cautiously and let the frazzled alchemist inside. 

The supplier noted Tucker’s nervous energy and, giving him a quizzical look, asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Tucker gave the supplier a wane smile, “Do you happen to know about the two traveling alchemists in town?”

The supplier nodded, “Yes, the younger is an apprentice alchemist.  I see no reason to worry.  The boy helped me fix some toys yesterday.  They didn’t seem suspicious.  Why?”

“They are not master and apprentice alchemists.  They are State Alchemists.  I only got my first good look at them last night at the Inn, and I recognized them.  The older one is the Flame Alchemist, and the younger one is the Fullmetal Alchemist.  You may want to be careful around them.”

The supplier’s eyes widened, “I see.  So, the story that they were merely a master and student was a cover.”

The supplier began to stroke his chin, “Thank you.  Our business must remain undetected.  It is good that you were able to identify them so we can avoid suspicion – and as I supply… other individuals, who do not want the scrutiny of the government, you have been most helpful.”

“Yes, will we proceed?  Or do we…?” Tucker trailed off.

“We can proceed with the observation of the merchandise.  When you leave, I will have you go out through the tunnels.  You’ll need to pretend you took an early morning walk in the woods.  Your merchandise will be safe enough in the basement.  I will ship it later today, as discussed.  I will also keep an eye out for the two alchemists.  When will you be leaving?”

“Tomorrow.  Will we need to meet again?”

“I can confirm the shipment is on its way by contacting you at the Inn.  Do you like this piece?”

The supplier gestured to a large dollhouse sitting on a shelf.  “You mentioned your daughter.  This may be a lovely gift.  I can bring it by the Inn this evening when I come to let you know your other items are on the way.  Since it hasn’t been put out front, I can easily say I reserved it for you.  We can say it is what we have been discussing these past few days.”

Tucker gave the supplier a knowing smile, “Yes, I like that piece very much.  I would be happy to add it to my purchase.”

By this time, Mustang and Edward were beginning to wake up.  Mustang wanted to be at the shop as soon as it opened.  Henry’s items were necessary for his training, but not so important that Mr. Whitmore wanted it to be a priority.  As such, Mr. Whitmore wanted this particular trip out of the way nice and early so they could spend their last day relaxing in town before preparing to leave.  Mustang, however, wanted to be up as early as possible so he could search the shop without worrying about too many people being up and about to see him sneak inside.

“You sure this story will work?”  Edward gave Mustang a skeptical look.

“Yes, Henry, it will.  It makes sense to get the little things out of the way first.  You’ll be able to come back here and pack them away after you return.  I want us, as Mr. Whitmore and Henry, to have the chance to focus our attention solely on one more day in town today and then make preparations to leave tomorrow.  Winter is fast approaching.  So, tomorrow, you won’t have time for Henry’s shopping.”

Edward rolled his eyes and pulled on his dark brown jacket, which had replaced his red coat for this mission. 

My useless shopping – not like I really need practice.

Mustang continued.  “We’ll leave together and then split up as if I’m going somewhere else, but…”

“We’ll split up about two blocks from the shop!  I know!  I know!  This is like the twentieth time you’ve gone over it!  I got it, don’t treat me like a kid.”

Mustang took a deep breath and slowly let it go.

Be patient and treat him like the soldier he is, while also considering his age.  Take it back to the mission.

“That’s no way to speak to your Master.”  Mustang lowered his voice, “or your commanding officer, for that matter.”  Mustang returned to a normal volume, “If I choose to reiterate our daily plan, then I will, and you will respond with a ‘yes, sir,’ Henry!”

Edward grimaced and turned away in a huff, opening the door.  “I’m ready to go!”

Mustang quickly finished correcting his collar, “I’m not…”

Mustang stooped to put on his shoes and walked quickly out the door, shutting it behind him, all the while watching Edward walk down the hall.

“Henry, if I ask you to wait, then wait.”

Mustang kept his tone as neutral as possible, but the underlying warning caused Edward to slow and throw a smug grin over his shoulder.

The supplier led Tucker to the basement, where three teenagers sat huddled in a small cage.  The basement was small, dingy, and had a packed dirt floor.  Only a few crates stood against the opposite wall from the teens.  In the back of the basement, opposite the stairs, a dark opening led deeper into the earth.

The supplier gestured to the teens.  “These are your purchases.  Are the products to your full satisfaction?”

Tucker walked around the cage, observing the cowed youths, “Yes, they will do.  They will do perfectly.”

The supplier nodded, “We can also discuss payment when I bring your other purchase to you.”

Although the supplier was not concerned about the merchandise overhearing their conversation, he knew enough that if something went wrong, he did not want the merchandise to have too much information.

“I cannot thank you enough for all of your help,” Tucker turned to the supplier and nodded in approval.

“You are most welcome,” the supplier nodded as he guided Tucker to the back of the basement.

With a final goodbye and a brief confirmation of the shipment and their next meeting, the supplier directed Tucker to the entrance of the tunnel.

“Continue along the tunnel and do not take any of the side passages.  The main tunnel leads out into the woods.  Be sure to put the cover back in place before you leave.”

Tucker nodded once and then, proceeding down the tunnel, disappeared into the darkness.

Once Tucker left, the supplier quickly went up the stairs and grabbed the phone.  The phone rang twice before someone picked up the line.

“We’ve got a problem.  The military has sent two state alchemists out here.  What have you been doing?  You’re supposed to be avoiding scrutiny!  Why are there two alchemists staying in this town?  This place was supposed to be a good front since no one else in town is involved, and the main base of operations is further north!”

The man on the other side of the phone line merely warned the supplier to remain calm, but the supplier cut him off.

“The Flame and Fullmetal alchemists are here, under the names Mr. Whitmore and Henry.  I believe they have yet to discover my operation, but they may be coming your way.  Even I’ve heard rumors here around town of your rebel group, but I didn’t think the military would send anyone special since you’ve kept a low profile.  Keep a lookout for them as two traveling alchemists, a master and apprentice, going by those cover names.”

The supplier dropped the phone into its cradle and sighed in exasperation.  He moved toward the front of the shop.  He needed to start preparing it for opening.  However, the sight outside the window shocked him.  Henry, or more accurately, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, was standing by the front door.

A few minutes earlier…

Edward walked down the street, Mustang a few paces behind.  Two blocks from the shop, Mustang waved Edward off.

“I’m off for my morning walk, Henry.  Be sure to purchase everything you need.”

Edward nodded and continued toward the shop.  Once there, he peered into the window.  As they hoped, most of the shops were not yet open for the day.  It was a bit early, but storekeepers in small towns like this would sometimes open early if they knew a customer.  Mustang was banking on this “small town” friendliness.

Through the window, Edward saw the shopkeeper move into the front of the store from the back.  When Edward saw the shopkeeper through the window, he smiled and waved.  The movement caught the shopkeeper’s attention, and the man hurried to unlock the door. 

As he unlocked it, the supplier reminded himself to use Edward’s alias so as not to give away that he knew the two alchemists’ true identities.

“Good morning, Henry,” The shopkeeper smiled as he opened the door, “what brings you to my shop so early?”

Edward observed the shopkeeper for a brief moment.

His smile is a bit too big…, but it’s probably nothing.

Edward shook his head, “I’m sorry, Mr. Greets, my Master wants me to get some supply shopping for my alchemy practice done early and out of the way.  We need to prepare for our departure on Friday, and we won’t have time tomorrow since we’ll be gathering supplies.”

“No problem, no problem at all.  I’m more than willing to help you.  You helped me out yesterday.  It is the least I can do.”

The supplier ushered Edward inside and looked down the street before closing the door.  “Where is your master, by the way?”

A bead of sweat rolled down the shopkeeper’s back.

Damn, I hope I haven’t miscalculated.  

Meanwhile, behind the store, Mustang crept up to the back door and tested the handle.  The door was unlocked.  Little did he know, the door was only unlocked due to Tucker’s earlier visit.  The shopkeeper initially intended for Tucker to leave by the back door, but the news of two state alchemists had startled the supplier.  In his haste to call his contact with the rebels after Tucker’s departure, and then, with Edward’s early arrival, he had failed to lock the door. 

Mustang slipped inside the back of the store, and he could just barely make out Edward talking to the shopkeeper in the front.

The back room looked just like it did the day before, like a plain old, regular backroom.  Shelves held merchandise in various states of repair, and this time, the neatly organized workbench was clear of merchandise.  However, the door in the back of the room stood partially open, and cool, fresh air flowed from the darkness within. 

I knew the door was awkwardly placed!  It may look like a closet door to others, but why would someone put such a small closet in a room with so much storage along the walls?

Mustang paused at the door’s opening.  A metal spiral staircase led into a dark basement.  Far too much air flowed up the stairwell for there not to be another exit.  Mustang crept toward the door and, then slipping inside, began his descent.  Edward’s and the shopkeeper’s voices still echoed from the front of the store, but soon faded until there was only silence. 

If there is another exit, I don’t necessarily need to worry about leaving before Fullmetal is done.  He has his orders.

Meanwhile, as they moved deeper into the shop, Edward quickly told the shopkeeper that Mr. Whitmore had some other things to do in town before they started their day, “he says he’s going to take a walk around town.”

“Really?”

The shopkeeper kept his face neutral, but inwardly the supplier hoped the Flame Alchemist would not see Tucker as the man ‘returned’ from his morning walk in the woods.

I hope he doesn’t run into Mr. Herring!  That could be dangerous.  I should have coached him on something to say if he ran into these two.  Hopefully, he has the intelligence to mention the Dollhouse and doesn’t panic. 

Edward walked up to a shelf and picked up a small toy car made of tin, and then, walking toward some of the larger items, Edward kept as far away from the back door as possible while continuing to shop and keep the shopkeeper distracted.

Mustang reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around the dimly lit basement.  It was then that he discovered the three teens in the cage.  They did not make a sound, and three pairs of sorrowful eyes met obsidian ones.  Mustang felt a slight chill, and then anger coursed through him.

Even if this bastard isn’t working with the rebels, he needs to be stopped.

Mustang quickly moved to the cage and the three trapped teens.  Kneeling, he addressed them in a low, quiet voice.

“I am with the military, and I am here to help you.  There will be time for questions later.  We don’t have much time right now if I’m going to get you out of here.  Do you know if anyone else is here besides the Brown-haired shopkeeper, the one who runs the shop upstairs?”

The teens looked at each other nervously. 

One of the youths shifted forward and whispered, “One light-haired man brought us here, but there were two brown-haired men just a little earlier.  One of them must be the shopkeeper.  He went back upstairs, but the other one came from upstairs and left through the tunnel.” 

The youth pointed at a tunnel extending northward and out from the basement.  “The two men from earlier were talking about us like the one guy was going to buy us!”

The youth’s voice became more distressed as he talked.  The other two merely continued to huddle at the back of the cage, as far from Mustang as possible in the confined space.

Mustang made a shushing noise, “Okay, in order to help you and also put the shopkeeper away, I’m going to have to leave first, okay?  There may be a lot of these guys, and we’re going to have to catch all of them.  You can help me catch them, right?  To do that, you cannot tell anyone I was here, except the military, okay?”

The youths nodded.  The other two now looked at Mustang with hopeful eyes.  The one who spoke earlier spoke again, “The guy who went upstairs said something about moving us later today.  They were only just here a little bit ago, maybe a few minutes.”

Mustang glanced at the tunnel and nodded to the youths, “I can’t promise that I specifically will be back, but the military will be here for you soon, I promise.”

Mustang stood and glanced around the basement, guessing that if the rebels had used this shop to move supplies, they had probably done so quickly, just in case someone stumbled upon their hiding place.  However, what worried him was that a transaction had occurred that very morning, apparently right before he arrived. 

I might even catch up to whoever is in the tunnel.

He turned one more time to the youths, “Someone will be here for you soon.  Remember, tell no one I was here, even if they start to move you.  Believe in me.  If we catch your kidnappers in the act of moving you, it will give us hard evidence.  It may even help us catch more of them, so they can’t hurt anyone else.”

Mustang turned and moved toward the tunnel, and peered around the corner from the small basement.  With one last glance, Mustang slowly and cautiously began to make his way down the tunnel.  Feeling along the walls in the dim light, Mustang took note of the side tunnels, most of which seemed to lead to storage rooms.  However, a few spread out and seemed to go farther. 

Damn.  There isn’t enough time to search them now, but the military will look into them for sure.

While Mustang made his way through the tunnel, Edward finished up with the shopkeeper, making his purchases.

I hope this was enough time for the old man.  If not, he’ll just have to figure something out.

“Well, I hope that you are able to get a ton of practice with these items, Henry.”

Edward smiled and, with false enthusiasm, thanked the shopkeeper, “You’ve been incredibly helpful, Mr. Greets.  I’m going to practice a lot so that I can live up to the motto of the alchemists.”

Edward made his way to the door and waved goodbye.

Once he left, the supplier let out a sigh.

I don’t think they know anything, but you can never be too sure with those dogs.

He turned to go to the back of the store one more time.  Once there, he quickly locked the back door and then, noticing the open basement door, cursed himself as he closed it.

Dammit, it’s a good thing the kid didn’t ask to come to the back of the store, again!

When Edward arrived back at the hotel, he plunked his purchases on the bed.  His instructions were to wait until Mustang arrived.  If Mustang did not return by mid-afternoon, Edward was to assume the worst and contact Hawkeye.

Like he would need until mid-afternoon to finish up.  It’s only the back room.

Edward shrugged to himself, picked up one of the alchemy books he was permitted to bring, and began to read.

May as well do something. 

Down underground, Mustang was keeping to the main tunnel for time’s sake.  Half an hour after entering the tunnel, he found himself at a barricaded door. 

I didn’t catch up to the guy who was there before, dammit.  It might have helped the case if I had at least seen him.  If he’s just a buyer, we might not be able to catch him now.  Hopefully, we’ll be able to get that dammed shopkeeper to talk.

Mustang pushed the door open and made his way out into the woods.  As he looked around, Mustang noted the military-grade webbing with camouflaging that seemed to have slipped off the door when he opened it.  

I should put this back to avoid suspicion.

Mustang re-arranged the covering over the door to camouflage it.  Then, he slipped over to a tree behind the opening and discreetly tied a small strip of his shirt, which he ripped off, to one of its branches.  Taking a deep breath and ensuring to cover his tracks, Mustang proceeded toward town as he continued to mark the trail discreetly with several small pieces of ripped cloth.    

Once he found his way to the edge of town, Mustang made his way back to the room at the Inn. 

As Mustang entered the room, Edward jumped up.

“What did you find?  You took forever to get back!”

Mustang collapsed into one of the chairs in the bedroom, rubbing his face with his hands, “I need to call in a report to North City.”

“What?  That isn’t procedure,” Edward sat up straight at the news.  “What happened?”

“I know, Fullmetal.  I’m going to do my best to keep our cover, but we might lose it.  It would be best if we don’t, so we can continue our mission and also avoid jeopardizing future missions.  However, we need to act.  The supplier is moving humans as merchandise – human trafficking.” 

Edward sputtered, “W-wait, what?”

Mustang stood, “I’ll be right back.  Stay here.  Since I’m making a call to North City, now more than ever, do we need to lay low and be discreet if we are to keep our cover.”

Mustang stood and left the room, leaving a gaping Edward in his wake. 

After informing Edward of his intentions, Mustang quickly located the phone intended for customers’ use and made his call to North City.  Before dialing, he surreptitiously checked his surroundings to make sure no one was in the immediate vicinity.

“Hello,” a clear, crisp voice sounded through the phone.

“Good morning, I am calling for the General on duty at Northern Command.”

“As this is a call from an outside line, I will need your official identification.”

Mustang sighed and dug through his pockets.  He pulled out his notebook, where he coded his identification, and gave it to the operator, who then put him through to the General.

“General Raven speaking.”

“Good morning, sir.  This is Colonel Roy Mustang.  As you have been informed, I am on a covert mission to the north.  I am contacting you with an urgent matter concerning our mission.”

“Go on,” the General prodded sternly.  Reports for the mission were to be sent in code, so breaking protocol and making a call indicated that immediate and urgent action was necessary. 

“We are still in Aszamen, and we have located a potential supplier for the rebel group.  Although I have not confirmed his involvement with the rebels, I have confirmed that the shopkeeper is a human trafficker.  The shopkeeper currently has three youths of about 16 to 19 years in his store’s basement, a knick-knack store.  He intends to sell the youths and apparently already has a buyer.  He is prepared to ship them out tonight, hence the urgency if we are to save them.  

“So that my subordinate and I can keep our cover, we will not be able to watch the store or act when they are moved.  Using human trafficking as both a legitimate reason and a cover to take this potential supplier into custody, I believe we may take a notch out of the rebel group’s supply chain.  Therefore, I would like to request a contingent of soldiers to be sent to watch the store and catch those involved in the trafficking of the youths.  Once taken into custody, it can be confirmed if the shopkeeper was, in fact, also working with the rebels.”

Mustang paused and checked his surroundings once more.

“I have also found the location of a tunnel along with its exit.  The tunnel is 500 meters from the northern edge of town.  I marked the location with strips of cloth.  It is an ideal location to bring in or send out supplies from a northerly direction, and it shows signs of regular use.  A webbed covering of leaves conceals the entrance.  Additionally, it appears that the buyer for the teens is also in town.  One more person is staying at the hotel, but I have neither confirmed their identity nor determined whether they are involved.  I also do not plan to find out unless ordered to do so.  I would like to keep our cover intact.”

On the other side of the line, General Raven nodded.  “Thank you, Colonel Mustang.  We will send soldiers to confirm and do their investigation immediately.  Continue your mission.  If you see any sign that your cover has been compromised even in the slightest due to these events, then be sure to abort and return to Northern Command immediately.  If we find that your mission has been compromised, we will send word via the pre-described means.”

“Yes, Sir.  We will not be here long.  So, if need be, a message can be sent to Yoxeqa.”

After their final farewell, Mustang hung up the phone and, checking again to be sure no one was around, returned to the room. 

Throughout the rest of the day, Mustang and Edward made some stops in town to keep up a presence, but they returned to the Inn in the early afternoon once Mustang recognized a few plainclothes MPs.

That evening, the military raided the supplier’s shop as he and two of his companions moved the youths to ship them out on the departing train.  Mustang and Edward joined the crowd of people milling around as spectators and joined in on the gossip, acting just as surprised.  Edward showcased some of his typical temper in outrage at the injustice of human trafficking. 

“How could anyone ever conceive of treating people like livestock to be sold?”

A ripple went through the crowd as people nodded in agreement, and Mustang heard the distinct mutterings of rage begin.

Mustang smirked inwardly.

The kid just helped our case a bit.  The town is rallying behind his outrage that they, the town, were betrayed by one of their own members.  Even if the rant is from being cooped up in the Inn and not being allowed to beat the crap out of the shopkeeper.

The town was not quiet for some time to come, and the next day, when the two alchemists went to buy the last of their camping supplies, they again joined in the gossip surrounding the shopkeeper and his involvement in human trafficking.  No one mentioned the rebels, and due to their efforts, no doubt was cast upon the two alchemists.  Mrs. Manning was particularly helpful in that regard.

“It’s just so terrifying.  You two were in the back of that shop, but we were there too, and there was nothing to indicate that he was such an awful man, now was there?”

She was wringing her hands and looking at the two alchemists imploringly.  Mustang’s charms were immediately turned on, but toned down for the married woman.  His demeanor seemed to calm her. 

“I know, I was so focused on helping that I hardly noticed anything more than the toys that needed fixing and overseeing my apprentice’s work.”

Several people heard the exchange and joined the conversation, speculating about how the military had discovered that Mr. Greets was operating illegally.

“Maybe there was a missing person’s report that they followed?  What do you think, Mrs. Manning?”  Mustang directed his question at the young woman.  “It’s nice to know that they care about young people.  I dread to think that something similar could happen to my apprentice, Henry.”

The woman nodded, clutching her hands together but smiling, “Oh, yes, and when I do have children, it’s good to know that they will actively look for missing children.”

Others also indicated their approval, and the crowd began to break off into smaller groups to talk further.  Mustang and Edward mingled with them, sharing in the town’s gossip as they continued to shop for the supplies they would need for their upcoming hike.

Down the street, at the train station, steam rolled from the train’s smokestack as the crewmen prepared to leave.  Tucker boarded the train, which was unwatched due to the commotion in town from the previous night’s events.  No one knew the Master and Apprentice were the informants, but Tucker knew.  Due to the military’s raid, the supplier was unable to keep their appointment, and Tucker’s merchandise was lost. 

Tucker knew that the two alchemists had ruined his plan.  He would need to find a new supplier.  As Tucker collapsed onto a seat, his head fell into his hands.  He had very little time before his State Alchemist Exam, and the bills were coming due.  As the train pulled away, in his desperation, a new plan began to form in Tucker’s mind, one that could give him his talking chimera, his state license, and make life just a little bit easier at home.

In North City, in a cold, dark room, the supplier sat in an uncomfortable chair.  A stereotypical, single light almost blinded him.  The moment he was brought to North City, he was given no time to rest before being shoved into the interrogation room for questioning.

The interrogator’s hand slammed down on the table, and his eye twitched in irritation.

This dammed criminal is ignoring me!

The supplier did not flinch but continued to look forward, just as he had since he had been brought into the room.  He kept calm.  His unshakeable demeanor was why he was such a reliable supplier for those who wanted something discreetly.

“Who are your customers?”

The supplier kept his voice level and calm, “I will not tell you who my customers are.”

The interrogator sneered, “Do you realize that you were found by our intelligence network, by two state alchemists?”

 The supplier feigned surprise, “State alchemists?”

“They were undercover.  You’ll never know who.”

“Unless you tell me, I guess I won’t.”

The interrogator’s posture stiffened in annoyance.

“We know about the rebels.  Finding you gave us a major lead,” the interrogator moved closer, leaning over the supplier.  “They will find your little rebel confederates and bust them too, just like you.  Don’t you worry.  You will be the weak link that leads us right to them.”

The supplier kept his face neutral and remained silent.  

No, that is where you are wrong.  It is I who helped lead the rebels to your state alchemists.

By sheer force of will, the supplier kept his face straight as he realized the military did not know that the two State Alchemists were walking into a trap.

So long as they don’t know, they probably won’t send back-up for their two undercover alchemists.  Good riddance, and a victory for me.

The supplier continued to ignore the interrogator, who continued to shout questions and was dangerously close to striking.  However, the supplier mused on his capture and his small victory, relishing in what the rebels would do to the two alchemists if and when they managed to catch them, thanks to his tip.    

The Führer, standing behind the one-way glass, merely watched, and suspicion rose in his mind as the supplier remained quiet and calm. 

He’s given no indication of suspecting Flame or Fullmetal, but that does not mean he doesn’t have an idea.  Flame and Fullmetal should be able to take care of themselves.  Maybe I have no reason to be concerned, but this man is far too calm for my liking.

The Führer shook his head.

What I would give for more soldiers with this man’s demeanor and calm under questioning.  

However, I’m going to have to replace that fool of an interrogator.  He cannot even get the man to talk, and he discussed an ongoing undercover operation!

The Führer sighed and walked out of the room.  He was planning precisely what he would do to determine if recent events compromised the Flame and Fullmetal’s cover. 

How annoying.  I can’t afford to lose both a confirmed candidate and a potential candidate for sacrifice.  Someone has made this more complicated than it needs to be, and I think I know who is responsible.   

Once he was sure they were undiscovered, Mustang and Edward finished their shopping for the day and returned to the Inn.  Their backpacks were soon packed and ready for the hike into the woods the next day.

Mustang also sent his final report for their stay in Aszamen.  In his report, he recounted all of the information he gathered.  He had kept his call to the pertinent facts to help save the teens, but his report was able to cover the entire week, including his discovery of the teens and the sentiments in town afterward.   

Mustang sent one copy to Northern Command, where it would follow protocol.  General Raven would have access due to his recent involvement, but it would also be sent through to Central and then the East, where Mustang was based.  However, Mustang also sent a second copy directly to Hawkeye at Eastern Command for their personal files. 

In the morning, their backpacks on their backs, Mustang and Edward paid their bill and left the Inn.

The receptionist gave her sincerest wishes for their safety and a good camping trip.  The sun rose over the tops of the trees in a crystal-clear blue sky as they made their way into the woods.

Chapter Text

As the sun continued to rise in the sky, the town of Aszamen disappeared behind them.  Mustang and Edward journeyed north-east, past Fisk, and approached Egmuridcu.  During their hike, they found no signs of people permanently staying in the woods, but they did find traces of temporary campsites between the two destinations.  It took almost five days, but they finally arrived in the small city just before midweek.  The plan was to stay two nights in Egmuridcu, and they would continue their journey north toward Yoxeqa. 

Just outside the city limits, Mustang stopped and turned to Edward, “The rumors suggest that the rebels are keeping to the area just south and east of Yoxeqa, so just a bit north of here.  We’ll keep our cover as traveling alchemists on survival training as we hike north.”

Edward grumbled, “Why can’t we take a train?  It’s cold staying outside.”

Mustang gave Edward a sideways glance, “Because now we need to keep an eye out while in the woods more than ever for the rebels.  Although we can’t confirm that the earlier campsites we found were from the rebels, we need to investigate this further.  We started in Aszamen to help throw off suspicion, and it turned out that the rebels might even have had a link there with that shopkeeper.”

Edward groaned, “This is tedious.”

“It’s a reconnaissance mission.  These missions are always tedious,” Mustang smirked, and Edward rolled his eyes.  Edward’s next question almost made Mustang sigh.

“Why is it us again?”

“So that you can gain training and experience in reconnaissance, and because they wanted this recon team to be small.  I’m the one leading the mission because I’m your commanding officer and because I have the most experience of everyone in my team.”

Edward scoffed, and Mustang glared, but they continued their walk into town.  The city was small, and it seemed that everything was centered around a small-town square.  The grey-brown brick of the buildings almost matched the charcoal-grey cobblestone, making the town look drab, especially under the cloudy sky.  The people who milled the streets were dressed warmly and only thought about making their way out of the cold, into their warm homes for a good night’s meal and rest.

Hawkeye had reserved a room for them here, too, for which Mustang was grateful.  Edward sulkily followed Mustang to the Inn. 

Once Mustang and Edward made it to the Inn, they picked up their key at the front desk, and after they made their way through the halls, disappeared into their room.  Edward immediately flopped on the bed by the window after he dropped his bag on the floor and promptly fell asleep.  

Mustang watched in amazement but put his pack neatly in a corner.  He then moved Edward’s bag to the side so the thirteen-year-old would not trip when he woke up and inevitably stepped on it.  Mustang then pulled off Edward’s boots and, without moving him, draped an extra blanket over the sleeping alchemist.

The things Masters do for their Apprentices, Mustang chuckled and then prepared for bed himself.   

Mustang woke to the sound of murmuring during the night.  Over the days that the two Alchemists had been on the mission, Mustang noted that Edward seemed to have a nightmare every so often.  But Edward would either settle down without waking or he would wake up, roll over, and go back to sleep.   

This time was different, though.  This time, Edward sat bolt upright in bed, sweating and breathing heavily.  Mustang merely watched through half-lidded eyes.

Edward shook his head as he tried to dislodge the dream.  The creation from when he and his brother committed the taboo remained imprinted in his vision despite waking up.  Edward clutched the blanket he did not remember grabbing before he fell asleep and pulled it closer.  Then, he cautiously glanced over at Mustang.  He hoped he had not woken the older alchemist and relaxed when he thought the man was still asleep.  

Thank goodness, the bastard probably would never let me live it down, freaking out over a nightmare?

Edward did not know why, but the thought made his chest tighten, and his eyes almost burn.  With one last glance at Mustang, Edward slipped under the covers. 

Mustang continued watching.  He did not want to cause the youth any embarrassment.

It takes a lot of courage to ask for help.  Not that Fullmetal lacks courage, but he’s just so stubborn.

Gentle breathing from Edward’s bed indicated that he had once again fallen asleep, and Mustang soon followed.   

In the morning, Mustang gave Edward the freedom to explore the city with a warning to stay out of trouble and keep to their cover story.  Edward merely snorted and rolled his eyes.

In Egmuridcu, Henry was given a break to do as he pleased before they would go into the woods for further training.  They would leave the next day.  Mr. Whitmore was going to take the day to replenish their supplies before they left. 

“I’ll meet you with the supplies here, at the Inn, tonight.  We’ll pack and leave early tomorrow.  Be mindful of any discussions about the rebels.  You should act curious about what’s going on in Yoxeqa since that’s where we’re going. 

“If you talk to anyone, we’re not staying here long since we’re on survival training.  In reality, if we stay too long in every town, it will draw too much attention to ourselves.  If anyone asks, your survival training ends in Yoxeqa.  We’ll spend some time there before returning to North City.  We’ll also be exploring the immediate area.  This should give you some leeway into a conversation to find out about any news from there.”

Edward nodded and escaped the confines of the room with an air of excitement.  Mustang himself soon left the small room and made his way to the shopping district to gather supplies and information.

Outside, the frigid wind made the cold air even less welcoming.  Clouds still covered the sky, and a thin layer of snow, which fell during the night, blanketed the ground.  The snow on the roadways was half-melted, and in some areas, along the edges, the snow had turned into a brownish slush. 

As soon as Edward escaped the room, he made his way through the town to the small library.  He wanted to see if they had any interesting books on alchemy.

As soon as he was through the door, Edward stomped his boots to rid them of the muck and rubbed his arms to warm himself before he proceeded further into his cathedral.  

The inside of the library was warm.  Rows and rows of books lined the walls and floors, making a maze of aisles throughout the room.  Random pockets of open floor had either tables and chairs or soft, cushy couches waiting for someone to sit down with a good book.  The aroma of old books, paper, and ink hung in the air.

When Edward entered, the librarian had spared him a glance, but since Edward walked purposefully toward the section marked Alchemy, he merely smiled and went back to sorting books.  The only sounds that disturbed either were those of softly treading feet and the shifting of books and pages.  

Meanwhile, Mustang stopped by the post office first.  As he entered, he greeted the postwoman.  Inside, the cool, tiled room was sparse, with only a small table for customers to use and a long counter that divided the room in two, one side for customers and the other for the post workers.  Several little cubbies, some of which opened into the back room, lined the wall behind the counter. 

Mustang was to send another report to Northern Command.  Again, he also decided to send a copy to Eastern for Hawkeye.  In both, he promised to send the following report as soon as they reached Yoxeqa.  He quickly paid for his postage and, giving his name, asked if anything had come in the mail.

“I told some of my friends that I would be here around this time, so they should send word if they wanted to reach me.”

The postwoman smiled pleasantly, “As a matter of fact, Mr. Whitmore, you do have a letter.  I’m glad you found your way here, safe and sound to receive it.  Farther north, things have been a bit stressful as of late, and only last week, according to the news, a human trafficker was found in Aszamen just a bit south of here.  It was quite the story.  Maybe the military will actually do something about the unrest north of here, in Yoxeqa.”

“Oh, there’s been some issues there?  The news outlets haven’t talked about it much.”

The woman gave Mustang a small, sad smile, “Yes, no one really cares about what goes on up here where it’s cold.” 

Mustang frowned.  The woman interpreted it as sympathy and sought to assure him. 

“We’re fine here.  Most of the violence has been small in scale, and mostly to the south-east of Yoxeqa.”

Mustang nodded in response, “How much?  My apprentice and I are traveling in that direction, and it would be good to know if we should take a different route.”

“Your apprentice?”  The woman tilted her head to the side, “Are you an alchemist, by chance?”

Mustang smiled, “Yes, I am.  My apprentice has the day off today, and he’s exploring the town.  Should I be worried?”

“Oh no,” the woman laughed, “but I would take care to avoid the areas to the east and north.  The rebels have attacked people on the road between here and Yoxeqa.  It’s almost a straight shot, but I hear they have stolen some supplies.”

The woman paused and, with a thoughtful expression, added, “Although they have been a bit quieter these last few days.”

“So, if my apprentice and I are in the woods for survival training, we should head west toward Yodgy first, then toward Yoxeqa?”

“The woods?”  The postwoman gave Mustang a worried look, “I would avoid the woods, but I guess if you swung west first, toward Yodgy as you say, you might be okay.  You would also be less out in the open than you would be on the road…” Her voice trailed off.

“Don’t worry!  It’s survival training, and it can be easy to hide in the woods.  Although I guess that works in both of our favors,” Mustang laughed and gave the woman his most charming smile.  She blushed, and he added, “So long as you don’t tell anyone, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” she tittered, the crimson deepening on her cheeks.

Mustang bowed, “Well, I should be off.  I have several things planned for today, but your company was most welcome and warm, and your knowledge of the area was most helpful.”

The postwoman smiled, “Yes.  Have a wonderful day.”

Mustang left the post office to brave the cold once more.  Outside, he located a coffee shop, and once seated with his drink, directed his attention to the letter.

The letter for Mr. Whitmore, from a presumed lover, was in code and stated that the military had been unable to extract any information from the supplier.  However, it also assured them that it seemed that the supplier was unaware of their involvement, but they should remain vigilant. 

Mustang thought back.

The military took him on Wednesday night, and we left on Friday.  It took five days to get here, and we arrived yesterday.  It’s Wednesday again.  We were only in town three days before we discovered the trafficker.  Well, they have had him for a few days, so they should have any information he may have known….  I guess it will be fine.

Mustang rubbed his face with his hands.

And as of now, we have a little over two and a half more weeks before we’re supposed to return.  We’ll spend about four days getting to Yoxeqa.  So, we’ll have plenty of time to scout the surrounding area before we have to leave – at least fifteen days, if we can’t make better time getting there.

Mustang folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket.  He took the coffee in his hands and leaned back, enjoying a moment of peace before he had to brave the cold once again to buy supplies while keeping an ear open for any more information about the unrest only a few miles to the north. 

As lunchtime rolled around, Edward, for once, noted that his stomach rumbled with hunger, so he left to find some food.

Soon, Edward found himself standing by the window of a food stall and ordered his lunch.  Now that he was thinking about it, Edward realized he was famished.  He also knew he had to go and find at least one person whom he could ask about Yoxeqa.

I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t, and then I’ll have to listen to Mustang rant about not gathering information.

Once he had his meal, Edward noticed some benches nearby where some men were sitting and eating their own lunches.  Edward sat on the bench nearby and listened to the men talk, eavesdropping on their conversation.  It mainly revolved around the oncoming winter and train supplies, as well as news from the south, concerning a particular human trafficker.

Edward almost scoffed aloud.

South?  Aszamen’s hardly that far south of Egmuridcu.  Now, Resembool would be farther south than this freezing place.

Edward shifted, gaining the men’s attention.  “Is there any news about the area around Yoxeqa?”

“Yoxeqa?” One of the men gave Edward a skeptical look.

“I’m an alchemist.  I’m headed that way with my master,” Edward rolled his eyes, “on survival training.  We’ll be hiking there through the woods.”

The man chuckled at Edward’s eye roll, “It’s a good thing you’re an alchemist and traveling with your master.  You’ll do better than most of us.  Stay to the west when you head toward Yoxeqa.  There’s very little talk of the rebels out that direction.  They seem to have some connection with those Drachman thugs and are trying to use the border where Drachma and Amestris meet in the desert.” 

“Oh, really?”

The man nodded, “Yeah, but you should be fine if you’re careful.  They’re a bit farther east of here and north.  So, if you make a loop westward and come into Yoxeqa from the west, you should be able to get there safely.”

Another man pitched in, “Yeah, those rebels are a bit of a pain.  They ambushed my load of grain between here and Yoxeqa.  We have to import food from warmer areas in the south up here.  Usually, one might send it by train.  But my family and I have made an honest living for generations by transporting grains without the use of trains.

“Those rebels mostly take money and food supplies.  Haven’t heard anything about weapons, but they did have a few when they stole my truck and grain.  Nothing special, though, but a gun’s a gun, and when it’s pointing at you...”  The man shook his head as he trailed off, thinking about his lost merchandise.

The third man spoke, “Doesn’t mean they don’t have ‘em, though.  Things more than guns and pistols, that is.  They just might be waitin’ to use ’em.”

All three men nodded.

The third man nodded at Edward, “Didn’t hear why you were goin’ north.  What’s a kid like you doin’ goin’ that way?”

Edward inwardly grumbled but barely maintained his composure.  The men grinned at Edward’s red face as he ground out, “I don’t know why we didn’t change our plans for my survival training.  And.  I.  Am.  Not.  Little.”

“Ah, that’s right - you’re an alchemist?”

Edward nodded.

“Well, did you do combat trainin’ too?  I’ve heard some alchemists do, especially those State Alchemists who work for the military,” the first man snorted.

Edward merely smirked, “The military?  Ha, like I would.  I’ve learned some self-defense, but alchemists are supposed to be for the people.” 

The men nodded approvingly.

“No good comes of that, the military using alchemists,” the second man commented.

The men soon became distracted as they continued the conversation concerning the issue of state alchemists, and Edward, his face almost hidden in his bangs, ate the rest of his lunch slowly.  His conscience burned guiltily.  After he finished, he waved goodbye, thanked the men for their help, and escaped back to the library.

That’s enough for today.  Mustang’ll take care of the rest.  Maybe the librarian will know something.

Mustang stopped by various shops throughout the afternoon to buy the supplies they needed for their hike to Yoxeqa.  The shopping proved the perfect starting point for discussing the rebels and inquiring if anyone happened to know what danger they posed. 

Most of the shopkeepers said the same thing.  The rebels rarely caused trouble but had a noticeable presence.  They would attack shipments of supplies, and some people reported having seen them headed farther east, toward the border.  Still, no one knew for sure if they had actually crossed over the border at all.

“They’ve put some in a right pickle, they have,” complained one older gentleman.  “They took a friend of mine’s whole shipment of meat.  They seem to take mostly food from us folk.  We don’t hear about anything else, but the road’s not exactly safe these days.  You’re an alchemist, you say?  Maybe you could do something if it wasn’t only you and that young brat you say you’re traveling with.  He’s your apprentice, you say?”

Mustang nodded but could not get a word in edgewise, and the man shook his finger at Mustang.

“Hmm, you’ll have to keep the whipper-snapper safe, you hear?  You’re the one with the experience now, and you’re teaching him.  So, it’s your responsibility.”

“Yes, sir.”

The older man nodded, “Well, stick to the west like you said.  There’s this small town, not even on the map, out there where some of my friends live, and they haven’t seen a thing.  You be careful now.”

Mustang nodded again and thanked the man before leaving his shop.

Avoiding the rebels sounds like it would be easy if we intended to avoid them.  We’d just head west first, but we have to actually look for them.  At least we know they’re there and that we need to be careful. 

Later that night, Edward and Mustang met back at the hotel.  There, they shared what they had learned.  Edward had managed to talk to some of the people in the library as well as the librarian after his discussion at lunch, but he had little success until he left the building again for dinner.  Mustang had more success talking to the various shopkeepers, who knew people who had to deal with the occasional attacks from the rebels.  After exchanging the information they had gathered, Mustang shifted the conversation.

“I was surprised to hear that you hadn’t caused some form of destruction, Henry.”

Mustang emphasized Edward’s cover name.

Edward scoffed, “I thought we were on a reconnaissance mission?  If I went about destroying things, I would get an earful from you about maturity.”

“Yes, yes, you would have,” Mustang chuckled. 

Edward sat on the bed and glared at Mustang while Mustang turned back the covers of his own bed.  Since both had eaten dinner on their own before returning, there was little to do but go to bed so that they could wake up bright and early.

“Well,” Mustang paused awkwardly, Edward still sat and stared at Mustang, “good night.” 

Edward made a face that bordered on confused and indignant, but then shrugged, flopped backward, and said, “Yeah, g’night.”

In the morning, Mustang ordered a cab to take them to the Northern border of the city.  They could walk, but they also wanted to keep their departure inconspicuous due to the rumors surrounding the rebels.  Both Edward and Mustang remembered that they had been warned to take their utmost caution in the woods.  Once on the edge of town, Mustang paid the driver, and after the driver had pulled away, they made their way into the woods once more. 

xxxx

All the while, unseen, eyes watched Mustang and Edward as they disembarked from the cab and disappeared into the trees.  The eyes that watched them had known they were coming.  They could see past the two alchemists’ cover thanks to the warning from their supplier.  Still, they had almost missed the two alchemists’ departure, as they expected them to stay in town longer.  But they found the two alchemists nonetheless, and now, they were ready.

xxxx

After some hiking, Mustang and Edward were much closer to the northern mountains, and their elevation had risen.  The snow here covered the ground almost year-round, late into early spring, and always began to stick in mid-autumn.

“We’re almost as far north as Fort Briggs now.  With the oncoming winter, and as we move north, we’ll experience more snow and cold,” Mustang commented.

Edward merely groaned and rubbed his port.

Mustang watched curiously, “Does the cold hurt your automail?”

“No, it can’t hurt my automail, but it is cold around where the metal meets the skin.” 

“Did you talk to your automail mechanic about cold weather and how it might affect the ports?”

“Why would I need to do that?  It’s not like I haven’t experienced winter before.”

Mustang took a measured breath, “Yes, but winters up here are much colder than in Resembool, which is pretty far south.  Now that I think about it, we’re probably almost directly north of it now.  It’s one of the closest cities to Ishval, and that’s pretty far south-east.”

Edward just rolled his eyes and let a breath out through his nose, “Yeah, well, I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“It could be,” Mustang was blunt, “and you need to be the one to know these things.  It is your automail, and you need to be responsible enough to take care of it yourself.”

“I know that!” Edward exploded in a yell that sent the birds in the nearby tree flying off in a flurry of feathers.  It was the first big explosion of the mission.  Both were surprised they had made it this far with so few heated arguments.

Edward seethed.

I don’t need this bastard telling me how to take care of myself!

Mustang merely met Edward’s glare.

He’s grown up a lot, and while he’s too mature for his age – and he needs to be – there are so many ways in which he still thinks just like a kid.

Mustang suppressed the smirk.  He could be civil and mature when necessary.  Mustang would never have made it to Colonel at such a young age if he could not keep his temper, and he was on a mission.  So, Mustang took a deep breath, let it go, and moved forward without addressing the outburst.

“Are you ready to keep moving?  I want to put another mile or so between us and Egmuridcu before we stop for the night.  The distance between Yoxeqa and Egmuridcu is about two-thirds the distance between Aszamen and Egmuridcu, so it would normally take about three days to get there.  I informed them I would report in four.  Since we’re looking for traces of rebel activity, it’ll take a bit longer.  However, we want to spend more time searching the area around Yoxeqa than getting there.”

Edward just glared at Mustang out of the corner of his eye and, with a “Yeah,” continued walking forward, looking left and right as he went.

They did not find anything they could directly link to the rebel group and only found a few traces that anyone had traveled through the woods before them.  The next day was much of the same.  Once they found a good place to stop, Edward dropped onto a log.  His backpack slipped from his shoulder and plopped into the snow.  Edward leaned forward and rubbed the port on his leg.

Mustang also dropped his bag by Edward. 

“Take a break.  I’ll go look for firewood.  We’ll make camp when I get back.”

Edward only responded with a grunt, but watched as Mustang disappeared into the woods.  As he sat, he did not think of anything but his now aching port.  The metal felt cold to the touch, and it seemed that the metal drew the warmth from his body.

Edward did not see the figure that stealthily approached him from behind, and when a dart pricked the back of his neck, Edward had no time to react.  Edward slumped over unconscious into the snow, and rough hands jerked him onto his stomach, tied his wrists and ankles, and then lifted him over a broad shoulder to carry him away. 

Mustang came back just as the man moved behind a tree.  The sight of Edward draped over the shoulder of the large man caused Mustang to drop the sticks and branches he was carrying.  He ran forward, one hand tugging on an ignition glove. 

However, a second figure took advantage of Mustang’s distraction.  When Mustang felt the bite of a dart, he tore it out of his arm and whipped around to search for his assailant.  Mustang only saw one.  He turned to face them and quickly snapped, only to feel the pinch of another dart from his left.  His flames died. 

Mustang stumbled and fell to his knees but attempted to stay conscious.  The figure from his left appeared and joined the one in front of him.  Mustang lifted his hand to snap again, but toppled to his side, his vision cloudy.  Mustang struggled.  The world spun, and so did the figures as they approached.  Soon they towered over him, and when one of the men gave Mustang a heavy punch to the head, he finally fell unconscious.

The two figures restrained Mustang, much like Edward had been, and then they dragged him in the direction that their companion had gone before.

The forest was quiet for only a little while after the humans left, but once they were gone, the animals and birds began to move once more and broke the forest’s stillness.  

Tucker stood outside the door to his commanding officer’s office, his watch in hand.  His commanding officer was currently away, but the First Lieutenant had given him the watch.  Just over one week ago, Tucker thought he had lost his chance to transmute a talking chimera.  However, the loss of the merchandise showed him another path.  Officially, his wife had left him after the failed business trip, but now he had his daughter and his State Alchemist license.  Roy Mustang, the man who cost him the merchandise, had inadvertently given him an opportunity.  Mustang had also become the officer to whom Tucker would report, as they both lived in East City.

He gave me the opportunity to create a talking chimera, even if it ultimately died.  Now, with only my daughter, we’ll be fine.  I’ll have two years to find another way to make one, and I’ll be able to pay off our bills.  I can do this!  I have the title and resources of a State Alchemist!  I’ll have to thank my new commanding officer the next time I see him after he returns.

Tucker smirked, or if he returns.  I did, after all, warn the supplier about him.  Although, as the supplier was caught, maybe nothing will happen to them.

Tucker bent his head and brought his clenched fist, wrapped around the watch, to his forehead.  He hid his face, and a single tear of joy at his success trailed down his face.  Tucker had all he needed.  Nothing else mattered.  

He had the watch.

xxxx

Down the hall, the observer stepped back and then disappeared around a corner.  He barely concealed his laughter.  He moved down the hall and into a nearly abandoned section of the building.  Red sparks crackled up the observer’s body to reveal skinny legs covered by skin-tight black pants that stopped just above the knees, a bare midriff, a tight sleeveless shirt, a headband with a red triangle, and very long, dark, spikey green hair.  Purple-crimson eyes sparkled with mirth at what he witnessed.  Pure joy made him shudder at the mere thought of the betrayals. 

Well, well, that little nuisance is taken care of.  If he hadn’t been successful with the talking chimera, he was going to start looking into a reversal transmutation spell for chimeras – all at the insistence of that pretty little wife of his.  We couldn’t have that, now, could we?  He’s distracted now, and the little wife is out of the way.

The leggy young man chuckled manically but still quietly.  As two soldiers began to turn down the hall, the observer immediately changed his appearance to that of General Hukuro.  The two soldiers saluted and passed, utterly unaware of the intruder.  The observer then proceeded to make his way to the underground beneath Central, unseen.  All the while, a broad, dark grin was plastered on his face.  

Chapter Text

An old psychiatric medical facility stood hidden in the middle of a silent clearing in the woods.  The facility was set deep in the forest by the north-eastern border of Amestris and a few miles south-east of Yoxeqa.  The facility was abandoned nearly forty years ago and was all but forgotten, except by the select few who used it for their purposes. 

Deep in the recesses of the facility, Edward and Mustang sat slumped against a cement wall, unconscious.  Their coats were missing, leaving them in only their clothes and exposed to the chilly air that hung in the basement. 

When Edward woke up, the first thing he heard was the sound of a chain rattling as he tried to move his arms.  A block of wood, with two holes surrounding his wrists, prevented him from clapping.

He inwardly groaned.  Well, they’re well informed. 

Edward blinked rapidly.  He could see nothing in the permeating darkness of the cell.  However, he could feel the wood of the cuffs that circled his wrists rubbing irritatingly against the tender skin of his left wrist.  After shifting his arms experimentally, Edward concluded that the cuff was attached to the wall above his head by a short chain, with no more than a foot of slack.  The chain was set low enough in the wall that Edward could slightly bend his elbows and still sit easily on the floor.  All the same, his left arm ached from being forcefully held over his head.    

Mustang was similarly chained to the wall beside Edward, except his restraints were made from thick metal cuffs that were clamped tightly around each wrist.  The cuffs themselves were connected by a single link, holding his wrists close together, and a slightly longer chain also pulled his arms above his head.  Mustang remained unconscious.

Edward shifted, trying to find a comfortable position as he waited, and waited, still unaware of Mustang’s presence due to the darkness.   

About an hour after Edward woke up, but what seemed like forever to the antsy teen, Mustang began to stir.  The sound from beside him caused the young alchemist to jump.  Much to Edward’s chagrin, his heart began to race, fluttering for a moment before settling back down to a more or less normal pace.

Mustang slowly pulled himself out of unconsciousness.  He felt drowsy from the tranquilizers still running through his system, and he could feel a bruise forming where he had been punched.  Mustang blinked multiple times, if only to convince himself his eyes were actually open.

Mustang heard Edward as he shifted – and Edward thought it might be Mustang beside him, but he did not want to call out until he was certain.  

“Fullmetal?” Mustang whispered.

Mustang had no reservations about checking to ensure that the sound he had heard came from Edward.  

“Mustang?  So that was you?”

Mustang sighed in relief.  

Thankfully, they didn’t separate us.

“Yes, Fullmetal, it’s me.”

Edward merely grunted and then went silent. 

Although Mustang was glad that their captors had not separated them, it also worried him.  Now, both alchemists would be able to know how the other was doing, which could be both a blessing and a curse.

Unbeknownst to the two, just outside the cell, one of the rebels, Damien, leaned against the door.  Damien was taller than average and, while lanky, the way his muscles pulled at his well-fitting shirt implied a level of combat prowess that made him so valuable to the group of misfit rebels.    

Damien had been standing there for a while now, listening intently.  At the sound of the two alchemists taking within the cell, a small grin spread across his face. 

Damien was the very man the supplier called when warning the rebels about the two State Alchemists.  He was also the same man, with light-colored hair, who had caught and brought the three youths to the supplier’s basement.  Despite this, the citizens did not know the link between the recently returned kidnapped youths and the rebel group, because the youths themselves were unaware of the connection.  The military may have guessed it, but they had yet to find substantial evidence of the link due to the supplier’s continued silence.  Something, Damien was sure, would remain true.

Damien had no intention of giving the alchemists any information regarding his involvement with the supplier.  He was a cautious man, even when he held a potentially winning hand.  Yet, an uncharacteristic sense of pleasure welled up at the thought of keeping the two alchemists in the dark, in more ways than one, and it filled him with a vague sense of satisfaction. 

Playing with them might actually be a bit of fun.

The thought surprised Damien because he never thought of anything as fun – curious, perhaps – but not fun.  

Inside the cell, Mustang began to prepare himself mentally for when their captors would arrive, and Edward shifted yet again.

“Well, I guess we found the rebels.”  The teen grumbled.

Mustang looked in the direction of Edward’s voice.  “Maybe.  Edward, you cannot say anything to them, rebels or not.”

Edward grunted, “I know, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Mustang rolled his eyes but chose to ignore Edward’s tone.  He felt like he was becoming much more adept at not jumping at Edward’s taunts and attitude.

It was in that moment that Damien chose to enter the cell.  After opening the door, Damien stood in the entryway for a moment, allowing the light from outside to wash into the small room.  The light silhouetted Damien’s form, but due to the darkness within, the two alchemists still could not distinguish Damien’s features clearly. 

Although they could now see each other.  Edward and Mustang looked worse for wear.  The light revealed their rumpled clothing, wane faces, and the darkening bruise across Mustang’s temple. 

Edward was closest to the door, and due to the block around his wrists, his left arm partially blocked his sight of the door.  When the door opened, it had passed only a few feet from his knee before hitting the wall beside him.  Mustang was to Edward’s right, and within about a foot of the back wall.  Mustang quickly noted that there was only about a yard and a half between his feet and the opposite wall. 

Now that there was light, the space felt almost claustrophobically small.

The cell appeared to be an old janitor’s closet.  The walls were painted a dark grey, and rust stains indicated where things used to hang along the walls, but all the shelving and hooks had long since been removed.  Opposite where Mustang sat, a drain pipe could be seen in the back left corner, and just above it, a spigot jutted out from the wall.  

Damien stalked into the room.

Edward pulled at his restraints, “Where are we, you bastard?”

“Well, you weren’t quite going the right way to find us.  So, we decided to help you out a little bit,” Damien taunted coolly.

“We were going in one direction!  That could mean anything!” Edward growled.

Mustang blinked at Edward.  His head was still a little fuzzy, but he was sure that he had just told Edward not to say anything to their captors.  He considered telling Edward to be quiet for the briefest moment, but saying anything could be just as detrimental as saying nothing at all now that Edward had spoken.  So, Mustang waited for the moment.

Damien nodded at Edward’s words, “True.”

Edward strained against the restraints again and snarled, “What do you want, and who are you anyway?”

The man only looked at Edward disinterestedly in response, but his gaze shifted to Mustang for a moment, and Mustang saw the disdain in the man’s eyes.

Mustang’s jaw twitched.  Heh, they might just be the rebels.  It doesn’t make much sense for it to be anyone else.  Who else would kidnap people or look at someone like me that way, an officer in the Amestrian military and the Hero of Ishval?

Mustang’s own inner voice snapped through the end of the thought with sarcastic derision.

Damien spread his arms out wide.  “The government is far from righteous.  We want to make a glorious revolution.” A small, smug smile settled on Damien’s face as he looked down on the two alchemists. 

“So, you are with the rebels!” Edward sneered, “But, talking about righteousness and revolutions is rich coming from someone who works with human traffickers.” Edward was seething, “You are far from righteous.”

“Human trafficking, whatever do you mean?” Damien feigned ignorance with a look of surprise.

Edward paused, but from his expression, both Mustang and Damien could tell Edward did not believe the man’s faux-innocence.   

Damien continued, “Wartime permits even the most atrocious of actions.  It allows one to justify all of their actions.” Damien’s eyes narrowed as he turned his attention once again to Mustang, “Something you know well, no, Colonel Mustang?  Or should I call you the Flame Alchemist, Hero of Ishval?” 

Mustang remained silent, glaring.  After a moment turned to Edward, and, making a calculated decision, spoke.

“Don’t engage him, Fullmetal,” he murmured.  

It seemed to Mustang that the man was taunting them – almost like he did not even believe the words he was saying.  Everything about Damien seemed calculated, like he had a goal in mind.  It was this assessment that prompted Mustang to say something to Edward.  Although Mustang typically would not give such a warning in front of a captor, in this situation, it seemed as though it would not make a difference, and he was right.  

Damien merely shook his head, the faintest line of a smirk around the corners of his mouth as he walked out the door, closing it behind him and leaving the two alchemists in complete darkness once more.

After leaving the two alchemists, Damien walked through the facility to the outside world.  Stars dotted the sky.  The rebels had brought the two alchemists to the base – to him – as the sun had just begun to set.  The sunset had been a glorious red.  Damien saw it as a good omen for their success.  The call from the supplier had irritated him.  He expected the military to act eventually, but for the supplier to accuse him of being careless was going too far in Damien’s mind. 

Now, though, he felt refreshed.

After the capture of the two alchemists, Damien had stood sentinel at the door to their cell, waiting silently for them to wake up.  Soon, the sun would rise, and a new day would start – and he would be able to enact the next part of his plan.  

Damien glanced behind him.  All the rebels slept, except the two on guard.  Damien smirked.  The rebels truly wanted to make the nation of Amestris a better place.  Too many wars had ravaged their lands, and far too many people they knew had died.  While he did not have the same experiences, the rebels trusted Damien, who came to them as a unifying and directing force at the request of one of their own.      

Damien smiled and took in the darkness around him.

They justify their violence with the violence they have seen.  They justify stealing and attacking others, even those who are not their enemies or who oppose their crusade, all so that they can shape the world to their liking.  Oh, how intriguing. 

Damien’s mind turned to the two captured alchemists and the rebels who loathed the dogs of the military.  Remembering the fury and derision on the faces of the rebels as they brought in and secured the unconscious and helpless state alchemists in their impromptu base, caused his smile darken.

How much more so will they justify violence on those who do align themselves with their enemy?  I cannot wait to find out.   

Back inside the cell, Mustang and Edward tried to make sense of the brief encounter.

“What was his deal?”

Mustang gave Edward a sidelong glance, “he’s one of the people who have taken us captive.”

“No, duh,” Edward rolled his eyes.

Mustang looked around the room, even though he could not see anything, “We’re probably in a basement, given the lack of windows and from what I could see outside the door.  The cement and constant chill also suggest it.”

Edward grunted and rolled his eyes again, “Oh, who’s the smart Colonel?”

A vein popped in Mustang’s temple, “Fullmetal, this is not the time!”

Edward turned his head away from Mustang’s direction, knowing full well it wasn’t, but not really finding it in himself to care. 

Inwardly, Edward was fuming at their predicament. 

I’m stuck here with him!  First, I was forced into the mission with him, and I’m really stuck now that we’re in this dingy, dark hole in the wall of a cell.  Al and I should be out trying to find a way to get our bodies back, not stuck miles apart and doing nothing!

Mustang, on the other hand, was frustrated.  He would have pinched the bridge of his nose if he could have.

Mustang sighed.

Stubborn and impulsive….

“But weren’t we the same when we were his age?” Hughes’s voice echoed in Mustang’s mind. 

After a moment, Edward shifted again, and Mustang turned his head, listening.

“So, what are we gonna do to get out of this one, oh big and useless leader?”

Mustang’s eye twitched, “Really now?”  Then he took a deep breath, “Well, from the looks of it, they have your wrists in a block.  You won’t be able to use alchemy like that, right?”

“No, duh.”

“I was checking Fullmetal.  You can still do alchemy without clapping, after all.”

“Yeah, even like this or without my arm, I could do alchemy if I had something to draw the circle.  That is how I did alchemy originally.”

Edward’s words were heavy with sarcasm, and Mustang reminded himself again to remain calm and act like an adult rather than rise to Edward’s goading.  “I know that.  I need chalk, too, without my gloves.”

“Oh, you can actually do alchemy without them?  I thought you were useless without your gloves since you can’t use alchemy when it’s wet or when it’s raining, even when you have them.”

Mustang glared, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I can do other alchemy.  My alchemy teacher taught me all the basics, like anyone else.” Mustang continued, although he did not quite know why, “My master, he didn’t want to teach me flame alchemy at first, but I insisted.”

Edward was silent for a moment, thoughtful, “Why?”

“Because flame alchemy is dangerous.  You’ve heard the stories of Ishval,” Mustang’s voice ended in a near whisper.   

Edward twitched.  He might have taunted the Colonel on any other day, but he knew concerning this matter – the war – he should tread lightly.  Even Edward had his demons, and the fact that Mustang had them too was one of the few reasons Edward had decided to grudgingly trust Mustang, even if he was loath to show any sign of it.

Both alchemists fell into an awkward silence, and hours passed.  Edward eventually fell asleep, but Mustang sat awake silently, his mind full of images from the past.  

When the door to their cell banged open, Edward jerked out of his light slumber and glowered at the intruder.   Mustang did not twitch but watched with cool, calculating eyes.  Only the briefest waver, in the form of a blink, showed that he was surprised not to see the tall, light-haired man from earlier.

We never did get his name, Mustang mused.

This man was short and square-ish.  If Mustang were standing, the man would probably only come up to his shoulder.  A gun rested on the man’s hip.  And, from the way he walked while fiddling with the holster, Mustang could tell he was neither accustomed to carrying nor adept at using the weapon.  This in itself was a cause for concern.

“Do not engage,” Mustang hissed low enough that the man at the door would not hear.

Edward heard him but continued to look at the new arrival.

The squat man flicked a switch on the outside of the door, and a light above them flickered to life.  Both alchemists blinked in the sudden brightness.  The man began to speak as their eyes adjusted.  His face was smug and condescending.

“What are only two state alchemists doing up north, here?  The government must either be taking us seriously if they sent the Flame Alchemist, or not at all, considering you don’t seem to have any backup.”

Mustang kept his face neutral, but Edward scowled at the man’s words. 

This idiot just might give us the information we need, Mustang inwardly grinned.

“What do you want – keeping us locked up in some basement closet?” Edward snapped at the man, and Mustang inwardly groaned.

The man merely smiled and jeered, “Oh, think you’re so smart figuring that out?”

“No, you…”

Mustang’s eyes widened as he listened to Edward.  What is he thinking?  I told him not to engage!

“Wait… Full…”

“…told us yourself just now.”

Mustang grimaced.  Is he trying to rile him?  We need to be smart about this!

The man stared at Edward, and then his face turned purple as he stormed the few paces necessary to loom over the young alchemist.

Mustang tensed.  I told Fullmetal not to engage!  I can’t keep reminding him when they’re here.  It will only make things worse!

The squat man’s fist lashed out at the teen.  At the same time, Mustang gripped the chain above his head to lift himself up, and using his right leg for leverage and balance, he stretched, kicking out with his left leg.  The man’s knee was the only vulnerable spot Mustang could reach at his current angle.

Mustang grinned.  Glad I’m still in shape despite the desk job!

Mustang’s kick just barely connected with the man’s knee.  But it was enough to unbalance him, and the man fell forward, his fist missing Edward’s face by inches.  Unfortunately, he landed on the teen’s legs.  Edward grunted as the man rolled off, clutching his knee.

When the squat man stood, Mustang knew the man was going to take out his anger on him now, but that was exactly what he wanted.

As the man prepared to punch Mustang, the alchemist swept his leg out once more, tripping the man again.  Although Mustang would have preferred not to incite the man further, he had been visibly angry from the moment he opened the door.  Mustang wanted to keep the man’s focus on him.

“You have awful form,” Mustang goaded.

Edward began to protest, but Mustang cut him off, “Be quiet, Henry.”

Edward looked at Mustang for a brief moment.  He understood the message Mustang meant to convey by using his code name, despite having already lost their cover.  Edward was to follow orders as both a Major to a commanding officer, but also as an apprentice to their master.  

Yet, Edward’s stubborn streak won out in the end.  As if I’m going to just sit here, bastard!

“They know, I’m not Henry.”  Edward bit out.

By this time, the squat man was standing again, and at Edward’s words, he laughed.  All the while, an angry sneer still dominated his face.  The laughter came more from annoyance and what he considered a futile attempt from Mustang to escape.

The man seethed, Do neither of these alchemists realize their situation?

Edward tried to draw the man’s attention, “Yo, you!  You were talking to…”

Mustang interrupted, “You can’t even beat me while I’m sitting and chained to a wall.”

The man turned to face Mustang once again.  He was not in the mood to be taunted by two captives who, in his opinion, should have been much more intimidated than they were acting, given their vulnerable position.  You’re far too haughty, Flame.

Mustang had slumped against the wall after the last kick, but kept his gaze fixed on the man.  The man only briefly met Mustang’s gaze before furiously stomping down on Mustang’s ankle and pressing his heel into the joint.  While Mustang did grimace, he managed to suppress the groan that clawed at the inside of his throat. 

The squat man leaned forward, keeping his heel in place as he spoke.

“You all think you’re so brave and good, but what you did in Ishval was horrendous, and you, along with all the others, never believed the soldier who claimed to know nothing about shooting that little Ishvalan girl.  No,” the man continued, “you all went along like good little pups and slaughtered innocent people.”

The man twisted his heel more.  Mustang tried to pull his foot out from underneath the man, but the man had shifted his weight so that most of it was pinning Mustang’s ankle.  Mustang could hear the bones in the joint grinding together.

As the man’s anger built, he suddenly could not bear to look at either alchemist a moment longer and, swiftly turning, stormed out of the cell.

Mustang winced and shifted into a more comfortable position.  Then, he rolled his shoulders as much as he could with his wrists restrained above him.  In the commotion, he had wound up in a slouched position, and he was only now able to correct his posture.

Edward hissed at Mustang, “What the hell was that about?  You were the one who told me not to engage them!”

Mustang rolled his eyes and shrugged, but then turned to look Edward in the eye.  It was the first time since their capture that they had had any light while alone, as the man had not turned it off after leaving.

“Fullmetal, you need to remain calm and focused.  You need to remain above the situation and keep a clear mind.  You know this isn’t a game.  So, don’t provoke the enemy like that.”

Edward began to protest, but Mustang cut him off.  “You need to stop talking to them when they come in.  We’re in a vulnerable position, and we need to assess it clearly and take any chances we can get for information.  We need that information if we are going to escape.”

“That guy,” Mustang pointed with his chin toward the door, “is not experienced and, as you can tell, too angry to be as… collected as the first person.  This man’s anger has the potential to make him a great source of information if we could remain calm and use the situation to our advantage!”

“Oh, so you’re going to blame me because you couldn’t get your precious information?  Well, I have my own way of getting things done!”

“No!” Mustang growled but cut himself off. 

Mustang took a deep breath, “I’m just saying we need to be more coordinated.  We cannot go off on our own.  This is supposed to be a coordinated effort.  A team effort.”

“I never wanted to be on a team with you!”

Mustang sighed, “I didn’t exactly want to team up with you on a mission either, brat.”

“Who are you calling so short he could drown in a droplet of water!”

Mustang snorted, “You!”

Edward jerked at the restraints while snarling insults at Mustang.

Mustang shook his head while suppressing a smile.

Some things never change.

Less than half an hour later, Damien returned to the cell.  

“You seem to have angered one of my little friends.”  

Damien strolled confidently to the center of the cell across from the two alchemists, a bucket in one hand, which he set down before leaning against the opposite wall.

“Well, if he weren’t such an idiot….”

“Fullmetal!”

Both Edward and Damien turned to Mustang.  Edward glared, and Damien smiled.  Damien turned to Mustang and, shifting, moved to stand in front of him.

“Well, I was only talking to you anyway.”

Damien stepped forward once more and kicked out, catching Mustang in the stomach.  Mustang had no time to defend himself.  Unlike before, where Mustang was able to unbalance the other man despite sitting on the floor, Damien was obviously more skilled.  Due to Damien’s unencumbered position, he moved too quickly for Mustang to react.  So, even though Damien stood where Mustang could easily kick the man’s shins, he was unable to do so, and Damien’s kick winded him.

Mustang gasped for a moment, and his vision tunneled.  That was all the time it took for Damien to land another kick, this one to Mustang’s chest, driving him into the wall.  Mustang felt something bend but not break. 

Edward’s face flushed with anger.  He wanted to distract the man attacking Mustang, like Mustang had distracted the squat man from attacking him earlier.

“Ya’ know, you know who we are, but we don’t know your name.”  

Edward glanced at Mustang.  Be thankful I’m not distracting him by goading him, like you did, Colonel Bastard.  I’m only asking a question.  I hope this is good enough for you!  

Mustang panted against the pain in his chest.

Damien paused, only glancing at Edward out of the corner of his eye, but turned back to Mustang and gave him a long look.  The corner of his mouth ticked up in a small smile, and his eyes narrowed haughtily before he answered.

“Damien.  You may refer to me as Damien.”

Both alchemists were startled by the ready answer, and Damien took advantage of the distraction.

He kicked one more time, this one meeting the side of Mustang’s head, and Mustang slumped against the chains, his chin resting on his chest.  

Damien stood in front of the unconscious alchemist.    

Edward gapped, “Leave him alone!”

When Mustang went slack, clearly dazed, something in Edward’s chest fluttered, and his head jerked quickly between Damien and Mustang.  Edward pulled at his restraints as he attempted to stand.

Damien ignored Edward and, after picking up the bucket, splashed the cold water from it on Mustang.  Mustang’s head cleared, and he jerked forward, sputtering.

“Well now, we can’t have you missing my warning now, can we?” Damien commented blithely.  Then he knelt, looking both alchemists in the eyes, and sneered, “Keep the snarky comments to yourselves.”

Damien looked at both captives, then turned, and without acknowledging either again, walked out of the room, taking the bucket with him but left the light on.

Mustang turned to Edward once Damien was gone, and while still gasping, tried to reassure the younger alchemist.

“Don’t worry.  We’ll get out of this.”

“How?  How do you know?!”  Edward stared incredulously at Mustang.

Water dripped from Mustang’s hair, and he shivered involuntarily.  “Look, Edward, I told Hawkeye I would report once we reached Yoxeqa.  Remember, I gave us four days after leaving Egmuridcu.  Since the rumors are mostly from Yoxeqa, the plan was for me to call her on an outside line as a presumed lover so that we could check in as soon as we reached the city. 

“We might not be exactly sure how long we’ve been here, but if we don’t report within twenty-four hours of the timeframe in which I told Hawkeye I would call, she’ll take it up with the superiors.  They might still delay due to the nature of our mission.  However, at least there will be paperwork in place showing that Hawkeye initiated and proposed a search.  They won’t wait long anyway since they were going to send up the second group after we’d been in Yoxeqa a few days.” 

Edward scoffed, “If they don’t know where we are, then it won’t help any.  He said we were going the wrong way!”

“You can’t trust what he says, Edward.  I would expect you, of all people, not to believe him.”

“I don’t!” Edward yelled, his voice cracking slightly.  “Stop being all technical.  It’s ticking me off!”

Mustang started, and then his eyes narrowed.  He must be afraid.  No, not quite afraid, but he definitely must feel some sense of vulnerability.  Anyone would, especially if this sort of thing happened on their first mission.

Edward’s eyes, wide and pupils slightly dilated, meet Mustang’s, “You keep getting hurt because you keep taunting them after I say anything!”

“We’re more or less prisoners of some rebel or anti-government group, Edward.  They aren’t going to be hospitable.”

“I know!” Edward gasped, “but I wasn’t,” he paused.  “I wasn’t expecting this,” he whispered.  Then a glare flashed in his eyes, “You keep provoking them!”

“No more than you,” Mustang leveled a stern look at Edward.

Mustang was not sure what to feel or say.  I’m not so sure if ‘going back to the mission’ and treating him like the apprentice is the right thing to do here.  I need to treat him like a soldier, but damn, this is getting hard.

“Edward, you don’t want to be treated like a child, so I won’t do you the disservice of treating you as such.  You are a soldier now, and you need to act like one.  No matter what happens, you must not say anything about the mission, and you should avoid talking to them entirely.  Asking them about themselves is asking for trouble if you don’t go about it the right way.  We cannot compromise the mission or others.  You know what I mean.”

Edward began to protest, but Mustang cut him off.

“You haven’t really said anything so far, but goading them or expressing your frustration isn’t going to help.  You may inadvertently give something away.  You need to remain quiet and ignore them.”

Edward nodded at Mustang’s words.    

“So far, they haven’t done much, and most of what they did was due to how we respond to them.  I do not want to alarm you, but if it does come to pass that they resort to torture, remember this: if they are any good, they will always get you to talk.  That is the first rule of thumb.  The question is, what will you say?  So, recite the periodic table if you have to.  You are the Fullmetal alchemist, and you have the guts to embody that name.  Live up to it.”

Mustang watched the trepidation leave Edward’s eyes and determination take its place.  Edward swelled at the end of Mustang’s little pep talk.

Mustang’s thoughts returned to the not-so-distant past.  He’d seen something similar in Edward’s eyes only about two years ago.  He’d seen the miserable dejection and hopelessness leave those same eyes when he suggested Edward use the military’s resources to try to help restore his and his brother’s bodies.  He saw the same spark then that he saw in Edward’s eyes now.

Edward grinned.  Hell, yeah.

Mustang smirked despite the throbbing in his chest.  The kid will be okay.

About 24 hours later…

Hawkeye paced the office. 

Mustang was due to call today, and that is with the one-day buffer! 

Hawkeye took a deep breath.  

He’s more than capable, and so is Edward.  I’m worrying too much.  I still have some time.  If I don’t hear from them by tomorrow, I’ll call the general to let him know they’re 24 hours late.

As she settled into her work for the day, the constant nagging in the back of her mind distracted her.  Every so often, Hawkeye would look at the clock, her toe tapping, her pen stilled, as she waited and waited for the phone to ring. 

The rest of the team looked on in worry, casting occasional glances her way, keeping busy, and also staying out of the way of the gun-toting First Lieutenant.

By the end of the day, the tension in the room was palpable, and the goodbyes were quiet as Hawkeye sat, eyes trained on the phone.

Something was wrong with those orders, and even though they found nothing to indicate the trafficker knew of their identities, it doesn’t mean he didn’t.  Why hasn’t he called yet?

A worried First-Lieutenant went home for the night.  The sun rose once more, and Hawkeye began her plan to alert the military.  They would give a little time between the missing person’s report and officially reporting them Missing-in-action.

I hope no one tries to declare them AWOL.  We need to find them!  This isn’t them running away; something must have happened, and we’re just going to have to fix it.   

Chapter Text

Nearly two days passed, and neither Damien nor anyone else, for that matter, came to see the two alchemists.  While no one had entered, someone had eventually turned off the light.  So, the two were left in the dark – the only indication that a significant amount of time had passed was the growing thirst and hunger they felt, since the lack of visitors also meant that they were given neither food nor water. 

It took quite a while for Mustang’s clothes to dry, and while they eventually did, the chill that seeped into Mustang remained.  On top of that, he could barely feel his fingers, which he tried to wriggle every so often to help with blood flow.  

Edward found himself glancing in the direction of the older alchemist often, thankful for the dark, so his worry was not evident.  

At some point, Edward had asked about the second man’s words concerning Ishval and the shooting of the little girl.  Edward hoped talking would help distract Mustang from the cold.  Mustang, although reluctant, told the story about the start of the war, his role in it, and the reasoning behind his desire to reach the top of the military.  Edward hardly commented but merely grew thoughtful, and Mustang was grateful for the reprieve from speaking.

As time wore on, they became more silent.  They had a few sporadic conversations to pass the time after Mustang told Edward about the war, but their growing thirst eventually quelled further talk. 

Both alchemists felt the insides of their mouths becoming drier with the passing of time.  Despite the lack of activity, the cold, dry air wicked away moisture, which also contributed to raw throats and their now chapped lips.  Hunger pangs came and went.  Eventually, Mustang grew used to the sensation but knew the hunger would return and only grow stronger as time continued to pass.  Edward’s hunger pangs, however, never left, and his stomach felt like it was eating itself.

As for hydration, Mustang was well aware that merely breathing contributed to the dehydration process.  Having fought in Ishval, he was trained to know and recognize all the causes and symptoms of dehydration, and Mustang could easily identify the beginning stages as they set in. 

Typically, one could go without water for three to four days, depending on the circumstances and environment.  While, due to the heat, dehydration set in far more quickly in Ishval, in the cool dark cell, their lack of activity and the cooler temperatures were in their favor.  However, they still risked dehydration and starvation if the rebels left them there much longer.

Mustang ran through all the symptoms and stages of dehydration in his head.

Early stages include dry mouth, lethargy, dizziness, headache, and muscle fatigue. 

Later and more severe symptoms include lack of sweating, dry skin, low blood pressure, increased heart rate, fever, delirium, sunken eyes, and even loss of consciousness.  We probably won’t experience all of them due to the cold, but…, 

Dry mouth?  Check.

Lethargy and dizziness?  Only some, but check.

I don’t think I’m experiencing any other symptoms.  I don’t really have a headache or muscle fatigue, but that one will be hard to distinguish from the aches caused by sitting here for so long.  

Edward.

Mustang glanced in the boy’s direction despite the dark.  

If I remember correctly, kids and older adults are more susceptible to dehydration. 

Mustang felt a spike of apprehension at his next thought.

How does Edward’s automail impact his hydration?  Does it put a greater burden on his body and require more water?  The automail would already reduce the liquids in his body because of the two missing limbs.  The kid eats like he has a bottomless pit for a stomach.  He must be hungry – but hydration is my primary concern.  I wonder if I should be just as worried about food when it comes to Edward.  What fuels the automail?  I’ve trusted Ed to take care of himself, but now…

Judging just by my state, if they don’t give us something to drink soon, the next two days or so won’t be pretty.  I should be fine on food for a bit.  Not comfortable, but fine.  

As Mustang contemplated the potential issues surrounding their lack of water, Edward was staring ahead.  When he moved his head, the room seemed to spin.  The fact that Edward could not see anything only made the sensation more confusing and disorienting. 

All of Edward’s muscles felt heavy, like he had run a marathon, and he thought that even if he was released from the chains, he would not be able to move regardless.  He was finding it hard to focus and found himself often thinking of nothing for long periods of time.  Edward licked his lips again, but his mouth was dry, and the slightest tinge of copper met his tongue from his cracked lips.

Suddenly, light spilled into their room from the open door.  Damien walked in with a single glass of water.  Edward merely gave him a lazy roll of the head, and Mustang braced himself for whatever Damien had planned.

Angering him now might be a death sentence.  Mustang narrowed his eyes.  

Mustang looked over at Edward and felt the blood drain from his face.  Edward was slumped over, arms straining against the cuffs that held him.  Dark circles ringed the undersides of his eyes, and his breathing looked labored.  His face was pale, but a slight flush spread across his cheeks.

Dammit!  When was the last time he had anything to drink?  Probably just before we stopped to make camp, and it’s definitely been about two days.  Crap!  Kids definitely dehydrate faster than adults!  Crap!

Mustang’s eyes met Damien’s, who stood watching them, his gaze particularly drawn to Edward. 

Making his decision while eyeing the water, Mustang rasped, “If you plan on keeping us alive, people can die after three days without water, but kids dehydrate faster.”

Mustang nodded his head toward Edward, who merely kept looking straight ahead as he tried to process the conversation happening around him.

Edward blinked rapidly.  The light coming from the door hurt his head and made his headache even worse.  He blinked again in an attempt to make the room stand still.   

Damien merely met Mustang’s gaze, indifferent to the words spoken, and then, stooping by Edward, lifted the glass to his lips.  It took Edward a moment to realize that Damien was there and giving him water, but when Damien’s actions registered, he leaned forward.  Edward took long gulps, but Damien took the water away far too quickly for the young alchemist, and Edward leaned forward further, pulling at his restraints as he tried to follow the glass to drink more. 

Mustang watched with growing apprehension, “What are you…?  He needs more!”

Damien cut Mustang off, “If you want water at all after this, do not question me.”

Edward sighed, slumping back against the wall in resignation at Damien’s words.

At least it was a little bit.  

Edward was glad for the water, and the spinning of the room had slowed, but his headache and the hunger remained.    

Damien then moved over to Mustang and held the glass up to him.  Smirking, he said, “You should drink too.  Remember not to question me if you want the kid to survive.”

Edward hardly heard Damien’s words, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mustang tense.  Grimacing, Mustang leaned forward and accepted the drink.  The water did wonders to alleviate his parched throat, but it was hardly enough.  Once the glass was empty, Damien stood up. 

“You mentioned that people can die after three days without water.  Well, they can last much longer without food.  You’ll get water every two days, but don’t expect food for a while.”

Damien’s comment pulled Edward from his blank mind.  Really?

“It’s only been two days?” Edward’s voice startled both men, his voice raspy and quiet. 

Damien did not react to the question but merely stated calmly with a small shrug, “Technically, it’s been almost three days since you were brought here.” Damien looked them both over, “It’s only been two since the last time I came in to see you.  We’ve been busy.  I’ll be back in two days.”

With that, Damien turned and walked out of the room. 

Once again, they were left in the dark, and Edward whispered, “We need to get out of here.”

Mustang tried to be reassuring.  “Remember, when a report is late, it will alert the military that something is wrong.  We hiked for two days, and they caught us on the evening of the second.  Like I said before, I gave us four to get to Yoxeqa.  If we’ve been here almost three days, we were supposed to give the report yesterday, and that’s at the latest.  Since Hawkeye knows that even the fourth day of our hike was only a buffer, she should report us missing today.”

Edward merely grunted tiredly, “They have no idea where we are.  We still need to escape.”

I’m hungry, and… Edward’s mind went blank for a second, …and I need food.  

Mustang looked toward where he knew Edward was sitting.  He thought back on Edward’s appearance and reconsidered his assessment of the teen.  He still thought that Edward would be fine mentally, at the very least, but now, he wasn’t so sure whether Edward would be okay physically.

Mustang looked forward into the darkness, “Yes.  Yes, we do.”

And I hope we’ll be able to pull it off.

At the same time, back at East Command, Hawkeye held the phone to her ear.  The voice from the other side of the line was placating but indifferent.  

“I know their report is late, First Lieutenant Hawkeye.  However, there is nothing we can do.  It’s only been 24 hours since they should have arrived in Yoxeqa and given their report.  They are on a reconnaissance mission.  It is possible they were delayed or cannot report due to unforeseen circumstances.  They should be in the Yoxeqa area, and according to their report from Egmuridcu, the rebels seem to be in the area.  They may be being cautious.  We have no reason as of yet to suspect that the rebels know they are there.” 

The voice continued, and Hawkeye listened silently, but with growing concern.  “If we do not hear from them by the time their mission is supposed to end, then we will take action.  However, the second group will set out tomorrow toward Ebacofum.  We will have them try to make contact as they travel south toward Yoxeqa.  If Flame and Fullmetal are in trouble but can leave, they will return immediately.  If not, we will send out reinforcements to help the second team retrieve them.  It is imperative that we gather as much information as possible before attacking the rebels.  We cannot afford bloodshed there.”

The conversation cut off, leaving Hawkeye staring at the phone as the dial tone sounded, and leaving the rest of the team determined not to make any major mistakes before the end of the day.  Judging by the way Hawkeye slowly and deliberately set the phone in its cradle, any action out of line would be disastrous and potentially deadly for all those involved.

In his office, General Raven also set the phone down and tapped his finger on the desk.  The Führer stared down at him.  He had remained in Northern Command since the capture of the supplier under the guise of a rare visit to the north to check on new recruits.  

“Their identities may have been compromised in Aszamen due to the supplier.” Raven rubbed the side of his temple.  The mission was supposed to be simple, but due to the disappearance of the two alchemists, it seemed to General Raven that the supplier had somehow guessed their identities.  The general knew the Führer knew something more, but he was wise enough not to question his leader.

Bradley merely remained stiff, eyes narrowed into slits, and commented on the supplier.  “That man was exceptional.  I wish he were in our pocket.  He would have been a valuable asset considering his skill at hiding in plain sight and his astounding resistance to interrogation, as well as other means of extracting information.  Unfortunately, he was spoiled in the process.  We would not have been able to trust him anyway.”

Raven merely nodded at the homunculus’s words as the Führer continued.  “I have recently been informed that our new Sewing Life Alchemist was in Azamem at the time and met with the supplier.  It may have been he who unwittingly gave away the identities of our alchemists.  Hopefully, Sewing Life was unaware of the supplier’s connections.  After reading the report sent from Egmuridcu, it seems Flame and Fullmetal are completely unaware of Sewing Life’s involvement and could not have known their cover was compromised.”

Bradley continued, “Well, they should be able to handle any situation that comes their way, as they both fit into our future plans.  I won’t do anything about the Sewing Life, but we should retrieve our two pawns.  I will take care of it.”

Raven merely nodded, happy that the Führer would take care of what could potentially be a career-ending move if the rescue of the Flame and Fullmetal alchemists went badly.  Raven looked forward to the day when he would no longer need to worry about death, and so, he never wanted to be on the wrong side of Führer Bradley.  

The Führer left the room, and after a short walk, entered the chambers set aside for his personal use while in the North.  A lanky humanoid sat on top of his desk, one foot propped on the edge and the other hanging down.

Bradley’s wrath was a writhing, seething undercurrent, and when he spoke, the air trembled in his rage.

“Envy!  The idea behind Flame and Fullmetal’s mission was to kill two birds with one stone.  The first was to keep Mustang out of the way so that Tucker could conduct his alchemy exam without any prying eyes.  The second was to find out more about this rebel group without sending a large reconnaissance team.  Their skill alone deflected any questions from those who might have opposed.  However, now, your actions with Sewing Life could uproot the whole plan.  Must I explain this to you?     

“So, explain to me why Tucker, the very person we did not want Mustang crossing paths with, in the very city where their mission was to start?  Now, we have two missing alchemists, one of them a confirmed sacrifice and the other a potential sacrifice.  If either is lost, you will answer to Father!”

Wrath’s aura darkened considerably.  “We cannot afford to have major bloodshed near Yoxeqa because it is not a point for a crest of blood on the map.”

Envy jumped to a stand, hands up in a placating fashion, “Hey, hey!  I didn’t mean for them to cross paths!  At least Tucker’s no longer thinking of pursuing chimera reversal, isn’t he?!  And now the hubbub could push the investigation into his missing wife to the wayside.  So, it’s actually working out well on the Tucker front!  All we have to do is get the two idiots back!  It’s just a small rebel group!  It won’t be a problem!”

Bradley smiled sinisterly, his voice remaining cold.  “No.  It will not be a problem because you will help retrieve them!  You will go as an officer in the next group shipping out to find information about the rebels, and you will follow orders since you are going as a grunt.”

Many hours after Damien brought the two alchemists water, the squat man entered the cell once more, flicking on the lights as he passed through the door.  He still had the gun, but he seemed more confident than he had the last time he visited their cell.  Mustang eyed him suspiciously.  Even if he appeared more confident, Mustang did not trust the man’s temper to remain collected.  

Upon noticing the man, Edward rasped, “Come to make sure we don’t die of dehydration?”

Edward felt as though the room was spinning again, and the nausea was becoming a nuisance.  I’ve hardly eaten.  How come I feel like puking my guts out?

“You had water yesterday.  You won’t get any more, not until tomorrow.”

Both Mustang and Edward inwardly sighed.  The time since Damien’s last visit felt like an eternity, not like only one day had passed.

Dammit, it’s only been one day?  That little bit of water did almost nothing to help.  Mustang tried to keep his breathing even.

Edward huffed, “You know our names.  So, what’s your name?”  Maybe I’ll… be able to convince him to give us water… if I ask his name.

Edward’s outwardly contrite demeanor threw Mustang off, but Mustang still worried that the man would take the question poorly, so Mustang tried shushing Edward between clenched teeth. 

To both of their surprise, the man answered.  Although Damien’s willingness to answer had come as a surprise, it was even more surprising that this man answered.

“Casper.  My name is Casper.”

Maybe he is in more control now.  Mustang could only hope.

He answered quickly!  Edward grinned, pleased that he had been able to extract some information.  

Edward began again, but Mustang cut him off, asking casually, “What do you want from us?”

Edward glared at Mustang, but his tired eyes and pale face made the threat fall flat.  Mustang merely gave Edward a sideways look and then turned his attention back to Casper.

I have to keep him engaged, or the brat will keep talking, damn him.  Does he know how to sit still?  There’s no telling what will set this guy, Casper, off, or if what we do here will make Damien reconsider our water.  Especially since Damien visited after the last time we angered this lug.    

Edward merely cast a glance at Mustang.  He was well aware that he should not engage, but asking for Damien’s name had worked out in the end.  So, he did not see the problem.

The Bastard doesn’t trust me!  I just want some conversation here and more water.

Edward was antsy, despite the lethargy.  He had been sitting still for far too long, and all the while, all he could think about were the wasted days.  All he wanted to know was how long they would be there, but it seemed to him that Mustang would also ask questions along those lines.

Casper gave Mustang an incredulous glare.  Surprise flickered across his features, and both alchemists quickly realized that the question was the wrong thing to ask.

Casper’s voice was thin and brittle, like a string about to snap.  “Me?  What do I want?”

Mustang remained quiet and looked over at Edward.  Edward returned the gaze, and Mustang subtly shook his head, which made Edward grimace.  The tacit and unspoken agreement not to say anything more was clearly conveyed. 

In truth, Casper was so high-strung that anything they said would have caused his anger to begin building.  Even silence, for that matter, would have annoyed him.  He wanted the two alchemists groveling and begging for forgiveness.  Questions were impertinent and silence was arrogant, as silence was too much like ignoring him – like ignoring their complicity in the military’s corruption. 

“I want the military to go away!  To completely cease to exist.  I want recompense for Simon and all the atrocities at Ishval!”  

Lack of water and food muddled Mustang’s thoughts, hindering his reasoning.  Is this man an idiot?  Does he think that this will change anything?  He’s complaining about atrocities, but is willing to starve a kid!

Despite knowing that he should not provoke the man, despite the very warning he gave Edward, the question slipped from Mustang’s lips. 

“Well, I don’t know what happened to Simon, and I’m sorry.  But, do you really think that acting on a vendetta will work?  It will only cause more pain and violence.”

Rage plastered itself across Casper’s face, and tears stung his eyes.  Casper stood in front of Mustang, looking at the ragged man slowly losing to thirst.  Despite his muddled condition, Mustang was still outwardly calm.  The mere sight of Mustang’s persistent calm infuriated Casper, and all he could see were those piercing dark eyes, like knives, judging him.  Yet, all Casper could do was think of Simon.

With a frustrated growl, Casper surged forward.  Mustang, tired from lack of food and water, did not react in time.  Casper was on his knees, leaning forward and gripping Mustang’s shirt.  He shook Mustang, whose head spun with the rough movement.  Mustang clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut against the whirling room.

Casper shouted, and the noise was like a jackhammer in the two alchemists’ ears.

“You were a part of that abominable war!  Do you even know who Simon was?!” Casper’s face puffed in anger, “he was my son!  I want recompense for my son!  He opposed the occupation of Ishval, but they claimed he shot that little Ishvalan girl, starting the war, and then court-martialed him.  My son was betrayed and killed by the military!”  Casper sobbed.

At Casper’s words, the blood drained from Mustang’s face, and Edward’s head swiveled back and forth between the two men, all thoughts of their condition forgotten at Casper’s words.

Edward’s eyes grew wide as he stared at Casper, “You mean…?”

The irate man turned on Edward, drawing away from Mustang.  “Yes, you miserable lout.  What’s a child like you doing with these bastards?  What are you doing as one of these loathsome State Alchemists?” He thumped Mustang against the wall once more.  “A mere child?  You’re younger than my Simon, but you’re still old enough to have known about the war!  You are no better than them!”

Casper was yelling, tears streaking down his face.

Edward flinched and drew his knees up toward his chest, but remained quiet.  Fatigue and the shock that this man was the father of the soldier accused of shooting the Ishvalan girl stopped him from reacting to Casper’s insinuation regarding his age.  He was too tired to think beyond the horror that they were in the same room with a man who had such a strong grudge against the military.

The man stood to strike Edward, but Mustang kicked out at the man, causing him to lose his balance and fall, almost hitting his head against the opposite wall.  

Edward watched in horror, but Mustang only smirked wanly.

Dammit, I didn’t want to make him angry, but he was angry anyway, and I can’t have him hurt Edward more.  I have to protect my subordinates!

Casper picked himself up and lunged at Mustang.  As he did so, Mustang heard the barely audible clinking noise of something metal striking the cold concrete floor.  Quickly glancing to the side, Mustang saw a small key, small enough to be the key for their cuffs.  In a last bout of strength, he shifted, drawing up one leg to block the key from sight.  

Some luck at last! 

Mustang quickly smoothed his expression.

Edward, despite his fatigue, also tried to maneuver himself to help.  But Casper had the upper hand, and he seemed to have learned from previous experience.  His foot slammed down on one of Mustang’s ankles, the very same ankle he had stepped on before.  Casper rocked forward, bringing the weight off of his other foot, pressing even harder, and Mustang felt the bones in the joint grinding together once more.  Between Casper’s full weight pressed into his ankle and Mustang’s desire to keep the key hidden, Mustang was pinned. 

Casper leaned even farther forward and planted his other foot between Mustang and Edward, using it to balance himself.  He was far enough forward that Edward did not have the leverage to kick him.  Edward’s vision of Mustang was nearly blocked by Casper.

A meaty hand plunged into Mustang as Casper braced himself against the wall and leaned over to leverage the blow into Mustang’s gut – and another and another.

“We’ll save Amestris,” Casper was almost out of breath, but he still managed to stand, “and all the pain that we’ve suffered will be avenged.  No one else will have to die like my son did.”

Still breathing heavily, Casper took a step back, no longer glaring as a sob escaped him.  Then, Casper staggered from the room, and the light flickered, going dark once more.

“Mustang…”  Edward rasped in horror.  You said yourself we shouldn’t provoke them!

“A couple of punches is nothing, Edward,” Mustang panted.  “Would you go down from a few blows?”

“No!  Of course not, bastard Colonel.”

“The lack of food and water is the real issue here,” Mustang grunted.  “It’s not like that oaf has the strongest punch.  You could do worse.”

“Hey!”

Mustang’s voice grew serious, “Now, Damien, he’s the guy we have to worry about.  He’s had some training.  Damien could actually do some damage, but as it is, I’ll have some light bruising, nothing more.”

“Yeah, but Damien already hurt…,” Edward trailed off.

Mustang merely shook his head, and they fell into an uneasy silence.  Mustang did not mention the key.  He was not sure if it was a key for their cuffs, even though it was too small to be a room key.  More importantly, he was not exactly sure how long they had until Damien came next, and he did not want to risk Damien arriving as he attempted to test the key.  If they bided their time well, they would be able to use the next time Damien visited as a marker for a plan of escape.

Casper straightened himself as he stormed down the hall after leaving the basement and moved toward the living quarters. 

A sudden voice caused him to turn.

“Did you go to see the two captives again?”

Maria stood by the meeting room door, her arm resting on the doorjamb as she leaned into it.  Maria’s dart was the very one that had finished Mustang in the end, but Casper took pride in his fateful punch that finally sent the man into unconsciousness.  Damien had forbidden him from mentioning it, but Mustang’s involvement in the war, the war the military falsely accused his son of starting, made his anger against Mustang grow with every day he was near.   

“What’s it to you?”

“You know they only make you angry.  Why torture yourself?  Once we’re ready, we’ll use them to see what information we can get out of them.  Until then, we should let them rot.”

“A weakened alchemist is much easier to deal with, I know,” Casper smirked, “but this will help the process.”

Maria only gave him an askance glance, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.  You’re not the only one with the beef against the military.  We’re all waiting for the right time, so you can too.  You don’t need to antagonize them constantly.  You know the plan.”

Casper merely glared.  None of the rebels liked the military, but Simon, and thus Casper by default, were different.  Casper agreed with the rebels that the military was corrupt, but the military, according to Casper, had also betrayed him and his son.  He would seek vengeance in any way possible – even if he had to use those who supported that government and fought for it to ease his ever-present pain.

As the sun set on the day Casper visited the two alchemists, back at Eastern Command, Hawkeye was on the phone again.

“Yes, sir.  Colonel Mustang has not contacted me yet.  Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

Hawkeye hung up the phone and sighed.

Havoc was the first to break the silence, “So, any news?”

Hawkeye turned to the team, “No.  Neither Mustang nor Edward have contacted Northern Command yet with their report.  Since his first contact was to be through me, they called to double-check.  The second group was sent out earlier today and has been given instructions to search for them, as well as to locate the rebels. 

“General Raven believes them to be MIA.  He’s not calling them AWOL yet.  However, if the second team discovers the rebels, and Mustang and Edward are not with them, they will be declared AWOL.”

“What?” Breda looked on incredulously. 

“I know, we all know that Mustang wouldn’t leave, but the higher-ups aren’t so sure.  They’re willing to keep ‘capture’ on the table now, but due to the sporadic rumors, they are not yet willing to consider them enough of a threat to warrant more than the second recon team.  A nuisance, yes, but not a threat.  Mustang’s report indicates that there is a rebel group, but the government thinks the group is small enough to be taken care of easily.”

“What about the rumors of them crossing the border?”

“Not yet confirmed.  If those had been confirmed, the military would consider the rebels a bigger threat,” Hawkeye sighed.

The team fell silent. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see what happens because I have the feeling Mustang and Edward will need us here and ready before the end.”

The next day, in the early evening, Damien came to Mustang and Edward’s cell with more water.   The light revealed Edward to be even paler than before, and Mustang’s face was waxen.  The light almost hurt.

Edward gulped greedily at the water Damien offered, and his head lolled to the side when Damien drew the cup away.  The longing in his eyes as he watched Damien give the rest of the water to Mustang made Damien smirk, and Mustang’s gut clenched, but Mustang did not argue.  Damien’s threat to stop giving Edward any water if they complained was still fresh in both alchemists’ minds.  Despite the two-day lapse, both were glad the confrontation with Casper the day before did not result in any lack of water.  No one spoke a word during the visit.

As soon as Damien left, they knew from previous experience that no one was likely to come until the next day at the earliest.  Mustang shifted his position and, using one toe, attempted to wiggle out of one of his boots.

Mustang’s voice was raspy as he spoke, “We haven’t been here long enough to be sure, but aside from the first day when Damien came twice and Casper once, they’ve mostly left us alone.  They shouldn’t be back today.”

“And?”  Edward’s throat was still raw and his mouth dry, but the little bit of water had done something to ease the rawness, even if it did little to quench his thirst.

Mustang paused his movements, allowing a wave of vertigo to pass.  “If we’re alone, we can try to escape, especially now that I have a key.”

Edward’s eyes widened, “Wait?  Since when?”

Mustang smirked, “Yesterday.  Casper dropped it when he attacked me.”

Edward’s brow furrowed, “But how do you know it’s the key to the cuffs?”

“I don’t,” Mustang ceded, “but it’s the right size and shape to be a key for a cuff.”

Edward smiled.  Maybe we do have some luck after all!