Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You said your name’s Gorius, right?”

He stops in his tracks for a moment, letting the others get a bit ahead of him.  “...Me?”

“Yeah, I’m talking to you, gorilla guy,” Greed clarifies, glancing back at Darius as he starts to pick up the pace again.  

Darius pauses a moment before answering, as if expecting Greed to say something else. “No, uh, it’s Darius.”

“Got it.  Hey, so I feel like we’ve met before.  You know anything about that?”

Darius doesn’t stop this time, but he’s certainly confused.  “Uh ... no?  Where would we have—“

“Nah, forget it,” Greed interrupts, rubbing the back of his head.  “Kind of funny — I just recently got a bunch of my memories back, but I don’t think I got all of them.  Or maybe I did, I dunno.  It’s why I’m still kind of out of it.”

“So does that mean you remember the first time we met?”  Ed pipes up.  “Back in—“

“Why don’t we talk about that later,” Greed says curtly, a sudden edge to his voice.

Ed pauses for a moment.  “Whatever you say.”

Darius briefly exchanges a glance with Heinkel before he turns to look at the moon glowing high over the treetops, if only briefly before it’s smothered by the clouds.  Late autumn nights in Central aren’t nearly as cold as those in Briggs, thankfully, but the countryside is deathly still.  It’s just warm enough that it won’t snow, but just cold enough to bite against the skin.

It’s getting late into the night now, but they’re still walking through the outskirts of Central.  Darius had hoped that they’d be able to at least take shelter for the night in the safe house, but Edward — and Greed, apparently — had other plans.  Once they’d reached the train tracks, they’d kept following them in the opposite direction of the city.  From Darius’s perspective, it was up in the air as to whether or not they’d be sleeping tonight — or if they would be getting anywhere closer to civilization anytime soon.

“So where are we headed, anyways?”  Heinkel asks, as though reading Darius’s mind.  “Not Central, I’m guessing.”

“Not even,” Greed laughs.  “Can’t go back to Central now — Wrath’ll sic his goons on me the minute I step inside the city limits, probably.”

“Yeah, same with us,” Ed comments.  “We’ve been trying to stay off the grid, anyways — the Führer’s men have been searching for me since I disappeared in the north.  Glad we’re all on the same page.”

“You said it,” Heinkel agrees.  “Basically, we’re living like fugitives.”

Suddenly, Greed stops in his tracks and lifts up his foot.  “Shit.”

“What is it?”  Ed asks.

“There’s a hole in my shoe.  There’s mud getting in.”

“Shame.”

Greed makes a noise of discontent and continues walking, the other three following in stride.

“Hey,” Darius says, “You didn’t answer the question earlier.”

“What question?”  Greed asks.

“Where are we going?”

“Doesn’t matter.  For now, just somewhere to sleep, I guess.  Someplace that isn’t falling apart, like that little shed.”

“We’re heading south,” Ed notes.  “The next major town that way is Rush Valley.  Me and Al have gone there before — it’s gonna be a while on foot ... like, a while .  I say we either stop here for tonight, or head back to the safe house—“

“Who said you were the leader?”  Greed scoffs.  “I say we keep going till we find a farm or something.”

“Aren’t you tired?”  Ed reasons.  “Uh ... do homunculi get tired?”

“‘Course we get tired — just look at Sloth.  I mean, I’m tired right now, but I’ll stay up to find a bed to sleep in.  Good things come to those who wait; you heard that one before, right?  Though, I do hate walking in this shoe with a hole in it.  What happened to your car, again?”

“...I don't wanna talk about it.  But ... I dunno, I sort of pegged you for the type of guy who wants everything right away.”

“Who, me?”  Greed asks with derision.  “I want a lot of things, I won’t deny it.  I want money, power, women—“

“—And everything else in the world?”  Darius blurts out.

“Yeah.  But I know I can’t have everything right away, you know?  I’m just the average superhuman guy with three henchmen.  I’d looove if there was some way I could have it all right away, but I have a base to build up first.  But the two things that I want more than anything right now are a soft bed to sleep in and a shoe that doesn’t have a hole in it.”

“Okay,” Ed sighs.  “Take your shoe off.”

“Huh..?”  Greed squints.  “Wait, are you gonna make me eat it!?”

“Wha—! Where-where did you get an idea like that?”  Ed sputters.

“Nothing, it’s — something Ling — he just suggested that you would—“

“The hell?”  Heinkel mutters.  He shoots a look at Darius, who shrugs.

“Just take it off for a second!  The one with the hole in it!”

“Okay, okay...” Seemingly defeated, Greed takes his shoe off and gives it to Ed, who tosses it on the ground.  Quickly, he bends down and claps his hands together, placing them on the shoe.  In a matter of seconds, the hole is closed, and Ed gives it back to Greed, who looks at it in a bit of surprise.

“You wouldn’t stop complaining about it.”

“Huh ... thanks, kid.”  Putting it back on, Greed continues walking south.  “Hey, uh ... you can create basically anything you want with alchemy, right?”

Ed continues walking alongside him.  “Within reason, yeah.”

“You can create a lot of stuff, yeah?  Like money and weapons.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“You oughta show me how to do alchemy.”

Ed snickers.  “You want me to teach you alchemy?”

“Yeah, why not?”  Greed says, without a trace of irony.  “Like I said, I want a lot of things.  I want knowledge, too.  And if I can use alchemy, I can use it to make whatever I want ... within reason, like you said.”

“Huh.  Can any of the other homunculi use alchemy?”

“Aside from our pops?  Not that I’m aware of,” Greed answers.  “And it’s not like he ever bothered to teach it to us, as far as I know.”

“Interesting ... sure, Greeling, I’ll teach you alchemy sometime,” Ed grins.

“Told you not to call me ... eh, whatever.  Holding you to that.”

Darius had been so distracted by the conversation that he almost hadn’t noticed what was lying far up ahead, and he gasps in surprise.

“Lights up ahead,” he comments.  “Must be a railway station — they could have an inn.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ed says.  “Guess we’ve been walking for longer than I thought.”

Heinkel says something unintelligible under his breath.

Darius shoots him a concerned look.  “You okay?”

“It’s nothing.  I think you’re right, they’ve got an inn there.”

The conversation slowly begins to die down, and the group walks in silence the rest of the way.

———————

“Woah, do you mind if I borrow this?”  Ed asks.

The innkeeper appears tired as he takes the pipe from his mouth.  “You can keep it, if you like.  Never got much use out of it.”

“Great, thanks.”  Standing on the tips of his feet, Ed gingerly lifts the somewhat heavy book from the tall shelf.  He scrambles around as it falls from his hands and drops onto his head, a plume of dust rising from its cover.

"Ed seems to be in a good mood this morning,” Ling observes.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Greed shoots back.  Though Darius and Heinkel still appear to be sleeping in, Greed is sitting at the table with a plate of half-eaten eggs getting cold in front of him.  He’s not alone for long, however, as Ed comes over to join him with the book in hand.

“Whatcha got there?”

“The Alchemical Encyclopedia,” Ed grins, slamming it down on the table.  “Me and Al used to read this all the time when we were kids, and it’s some miracle I found a copy here, right when I’m trying to teach you alchemy, huh?”

“Oh, very cool,” Greed replies.  “So it’s like the beginner manual?”

“More like everything the average alchemist should know about alchemy,” Ed corrects him.  “They even talk about homunculi and philosopher’s stones a little, if that interests you.”

“Oh yeah?”  Greed says, propping his chin up on his elbow.  “Let’s see it.”

“Hold on...”  Ed spends a few seconds flicking through the book until he reaches the chapter he’d been looking for.  “Although, I bet you probably already know this stuff.”

“Hey, I might learn something.”

“Yeah, so right here...” Ed points to the paragraph and begins reading from it.  “The homunculus is a hypothetical being constructed from an alchemical base.  Though it is not created organically, the homunculus’s internal and external anatomy almost completely simulates the functions of a human body, albeit artificially.  The term, homunculus, literally translates to ‘little man’ in—“

“Hey, doesn’t that make you a homunculus?”

Ed blinks.  “What?  Well, it’s true that my limbs are — hey, wait a minute!  Are you calling me—!”

“Sorry, it was low-hanging fruit,” Greed laughs.  “I couldn’t resist.”

“Good one,” Ling tells him.

Ed is fuming.  “Look, do you want me to teach you alchemy or not?”

“Yeah, when are we getting started?”

Ed heaves a sigh, putting his head in his hand.  Once he’s done, he picks himself back up and chooses a page closer to the front of the book.

“Alchemy is the science of understanding, deconstructing and reconstructing matter.  Pop quiz:  what’s the first law of alchemy?”

“Uhh...”

“I bet the answer’s on the page,” Ling suggests.

Greed cranes his neck to look at the page Ed has his thumb on, but as soon as Ed catches on to what he’s doing, he covers the paragraph with his hand.  When he tries to peek from the other side, Ed quickly covers it with his other hand.

“Worth a shot.”

“You give up?”  Ed asks.  “The first law of alchemy is equivalent exchange.  In order to obtain, something of equal value must be given.”

“Oh, right, yeah, equivalent exchange, yeah, I knew that,”  Greed says.  “Ridiculous rule, if you ask me.  You’re telling me I have to give up something of equal value in order to get something else?  Why the hell would I wanna do that?”

“Okay, it’s not as bad as you’re making it sound,” Ed says tersely.  “So, look, I have this rock...”

Ed removes two rocks from his pocket, placing one near the book and putting the other at the center of the table.

“Looks like you have two rocks.”

“Just pay attention to this rock,” Ed says, pointing to the one in the center of the table.  “What do you notice about it?”

“I mean, it’s a rock.  It’s small.  Light grey.  Hard.”

“Yeah, and it’s pretty useless,” Ed comments.  “There’s not much you can do with a rock.  I’m not gonna teach you about altering and isolating chemical compositions for your first lesson, but one of the easiest things an alchemist can do is change an object’s compositional structure — I was doing stuff like this when I was five.  Its chemical makeup is fairly simple, and should stay the same for the purposes of this transmutation -- carbon, oxygen, magnesium, and silicon.  So why don’t we turn this rock into something actually useful?”

Edward pushes the rock to the side, taking a piece of chalk from his pocket with which he begins drawing a circle on the table.  “This is a simple transmutation circle for altering the structure of inorganic material.  You’re going to need to clearly visualize the structure of the rock and how it will be manipulated into the new structure you want it to take on.  Like so...”

Edward drops the rock back into the center of the transmutation circle, then presses his hands onto the table.  It begins glowing, and the rock starts to twist and shift into another form.  Once the circle ceases to glow, the rock is now in the shape of a finely-chiseled screw.

“See?  Equivalent exchange — the rock’s composition is equal to that of the screw, but I turned it into something better than it was before!  So in a way, it is sort of inequivalent — I got something better out of it than what I put in.  You get it now?”

“Not really,” Greed sighs.  “What if I want to keep the rock and the screw?  Can’t I just duplicate them?  I am technically a living philosopher’s stone, after all.  That lets you override the rules of alchemy or something, right?”

“Okay,” Edward interrupts.  “If you want to be a good alchemist, you need to understand the rules before you can break them.  But I guess the philosopher’s stone gives you an upper hand on that.  Look, I want you to try it now.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Ed says, taking his screw out of the circle and touching it up a bit with his piece of chalk.  When he’s done, he takes the other rock and places it in the circle’s center.  “Like I said, you’re going to visualize the form the object has now, and how it will change into its new form.  I’m not expecting you to get it perfectly on your first try, but just give it a shot.”

“Alright, alright...” Mimicking Edward, Greed claps his hands together.  He can almost feel them thrumming with energy as he slowly separates his hands and places them on the circle.  Both he and Ed watch in anticipation...

But nothing happens.

Edward seems genuinely confused.  “That’s weird.  The circle’s fine ... at least something should have happened ... try again, and make sure you have a clear idea of how the rock is supposed to change.  You don’t have to clap your hands together if you have a circle, by the way.”

Greed slams his hands down again and tries a few times more, but nothing happens.

Ed scratches his head.  “I’d get it if you were just inexperienced, but I’d think since you’re literally a walking philosopher’s stone this would be easy for you.  Unless...”

“Unless what?”

Ed leans in very close to Greed, scrutinizing him.  “You’re not thinking of how you want to change it, are you?  You want to keep the rock!”

“Yeah, so what?”  Greed says indignantly.  “It’s a good rock!  Why would I want to trade it in?”

“It’s a rock, Greed!  It’s useless!”

“Says you—!”

“Would you kids stop drawing on my table!?”  From behind them, the innkeeper slams a wet rag down on it, erasing the chalk circle.  “And if you two are going to keep yelling at each other, how about you take it outside?”

Just then, Darius and Heinkel make their way into the main room from the hallway.

“They’re not bothering you, are they, sir?”  Darius asks, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You two are in charge of these boys, right?”  The innkeeper asks.  “They’re making a mess in here.”

“You know what?”  Edward says, getting up.  “We were just about to leave, actually.”

——————

Not ten minutes later, Greed is still holding his rock in hand as he and his cohorts look at the map of the railway line by the empty station.

“Nobody ever really stops here, as far as I know,” Ed comments.  “Maybe just people who work in the farmlands west of here.”

“Are you thinking of catching a train or something?”  Heinkel asks.

“That would be too risky,” Ed replies.  “Remember, the military’s still looking for us.”

“So we’re going it on foot, then,” Heinkel says, a tinge of worry in his voice.  “Where are we headed next, Greed?”

Greed drops the rock into one of his pockets.  “We’re gonna keep heading south for now.”

Heinkel raises an eyebrow.  “Mind if I ask why?”

“Why do you—“

“We’re heading for Dublith, aren’t we?”  Ed interjects.

Greed turns his head to the sky.  “You figured that out pretty fast, didn’t you.”

Silence briefly fills the air, only to be broken by Heinkel.  “Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“Yeah,” Greed says.  “I’m sure.”

“Looks like the next town up ahead is, uh...” Ed leans closer to the map.  “Wor-ces-ter, if I’m pronouncing that right.  Never heard of it.  Weird that the train doesn’t stop there.”

“We shouldn’t just barge into some town we know nothing about,” Heinkel reasons.  “It would probably be quicker to go around, anyways, if we’re heading to Dublith.”

“It’s fine,” Greed smiles.  “Some backwater town that nobody’s ever heard of might actually be a good place to lay low for a bit.  Less chance of running into state military, right?”

“Yeah,” Ed nods.  “I think we have enough rations for the time being.  We head out now, we could make it there in a day or two, probably.”

“I...” Heinkel appears to be looking for something else to say.

“C’mon, lion man,” Greed says.  “You’re working for me, you gotta go where I tell you.”

Heinkel watches the other three walk ahead of him for a bit before he joins them, the howling of the wind obscuring some argument Ed and Greed seem to be having.

Chapter Text

“I’m already starting to get sick of this guy,” Heinkel grumbles to Darius.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” Darius shrugs.  “He can’t be any worse than Kimblee, but I didn’t see you griping about him.”

“Do you really just want to spend the next few months following him around to god-knows-where?  For all we know this town is crawling with military.  Could be lying, too, and this is some kind of trap for us.”

“It’s not like you were so concerned about that when we went to Baschool,” Darius argues.  “Seriously, what’s going on, Heinkel?  It’s not like you to worry this much … you know, you can talk to me--”

“I already told you what’s bothering me,” Heinkel snaps.  “Just keep your voice down, alright?”

As Heinkel scowls and turns his head away, Darius heaves a sigh, shifting his weight on the tree stump he sits upon.  He turns his gaze to Greed, who stands a few yards away from them, facing the woods.  The temperature has dropped quickly, and flakes of snow are beginning to fall from the sky, earning a shiver from Darius.  He doesn’t have to wait for too much longer, fortunately, as Ed soon emerges from his bathroom break in the woods.

“Welcome back, my fellow homunculus,” Greed greets him jovially.

“H-homunculus?”  Heinkel stammers, jumping up in surprise.  “Are you saying he’s--!”

“It’s a joke,” Edward says matter-of-factly.

“Huh?  I don’t get it.”

“That’s the thing about jokes,” Greed explains.  “They’re not as funny if you explain them.”

“And if you have to explain the joke, then maybe it’s not that funny to begin with,” Edward hisses.

“Whatever you say,” Greed replies.  “Anything else, or are we good to keep going?”

“It’d be nice if we could turn around,” Heinkel provides.

“Not a chance,” Greed says.  “As long as you’re with me, you go where I go.  Come on.”

As Greed, Ed, and Darius continue walking again, Ed comments, “Wonder why you even asked, then.”

“Just needed to know if anyone else wanted a bathroom break.”

Begrudgingly, Heinkel starts to follow them.  “I’m starting to miss that other guy.  The prince.”

“Ling?”  Greed asks, turning to glance at Heinkel.

“Yeah, him.  He ate all our food, but damn, he wasn’t as much of a selfish little brat as you.”

“Heh.  He says thanks, and you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Hmph.”

They continue walking for about an hour alongside the railroad until they see buildings far in the distance, the snow beginning to stick on the rooftops.  As Darius suspected, the town itself is not next to the train tracks, but built far below it -- the railroad is elevated on a tall bridge which runs straight over the sloping hills.  Not too far down the tall hill they walk upon is an old, beaten-down sign that says “Welcome to Worcester ”.

“Welcome to Wor-ces-ter,” Ed reads aloud as the group continues down the hill.  Instinctively, he stops when they’re halfway down the hill and turns around to find that Heinkel is still standing behind them at the top.  “You’re not coming?”

“This is ridiculous,” Heinkel growls.  “I’m not going into that town.”

“What’s the big deal?”  Ed asks.  “The rest of us agreed we were stopping here.  We’re running low on rations, anyways, and it’s not like we’re gonna go back to that train stop.  So why don’t y--”

“I’m not going,” Heinkel repeats.  “My … my animal instincts are telling me it’s a bad idea.”

Ed bursts out laughing.  “Your animal instincts?”

“Okay, seriously, what’s your problem?”  Darius yells.  “You’ve been acting weird ever since we started heading south!  Why are you being such a coward?”

“You shut your damn--”

“You know what my animal instincts are telling me, Heinkel?  You’re being a wuss!”

“Okay, boys, I’ll settle this right now,” Greed interrupts, putting his hands up.  “Heinkel, I said it before and I’ll say it again:  you work for me, you gotta go where I--”

“How about I settle this right now,” Heinkel cuts him off.  “I quit.”

“Huh?”

“You can all go into Worcester by yourselves.  I’m out.”  And with that, Heinkel begins walking in the opposite direction.

“Did he just say Wooster?”  Ed mutters.

“Just ignore him,” Darius barks.  “He can go sleep in the snow, I guess.  Let’s keep moving.”

“Heh.  Animal instincts.”  Greed turns back towards the town, with Ed and Darius following suit.  “Sorry.  I’m probably the one who scared him off.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Darius says.  “I don’t know what’s up with him.  The sooner we find a place to eat in this town, the better.”

------------

Worcester is mostly quiet, save for the wind ripping through the air, nearly smothering Ed at times.  Although they’re still not far from Central City, it occurs to Ed that it’s a bit rare for it to snow at this time of autumn considering how far south they are -- at least, in comparison to Briggs.

Though a strip of the town is contained under the umbrella of the railroad, the town itself extends to the other edge of the valley, albeit with buildings growing sparser away from the center of the town.  Ironically, Ed thinks, despite being at Central’s border, it’s even more of a backwater than Resembool -- at least they had a train stop there.

“Oh yeah…”

Darius turns to look at Edward.  “Hm?”

“I think the next train stop is twelve kilometers from here, across the river.  For some other little town, I think, but the stop after that is Rush Valley, I’m pretty sure.”

“Huh, alright.  So what do you think, are we halfway there?  To Rush Valley, I mean.”

“More like a … little less than a quarter of the way there,” Ed replies.  “Though we’re making good time, considering we’ve been walking for only half a week.”

“Good grief,” Darius groans, clutching his head.  “Let’s try to find a car in this town or something.  My feet can’t take much more of this.”

“That’s not gonna be easy,” Edward says, looking around.  He’s not exactly wrong -- they haven’t seen a single car since they entered the town.  The few passerby that they’ve seen in the streets seem to regard them warily before going on their way.

Greed is definitely quieter than usual, and seems to be lost in thought as they trudge through the slowly-building sheet of snow on the ground.  If they’re going to find a place to eat and sleep, Edward decides that he’ll have to take initiative for the group.

Thankfully, he manages to catch the next person he sees walking through the street -- a middle-aged worker carrying a sack on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Ed calls out to him.  “You live around here, right?”

The man stops to look at Ed with a bit of surprise.  “That I do.  You’re new to Worcester, aren’t you?”

“Actually I think it’s -- never mind.  Do you know if there’s anywhere to eat around here?  Or if there’s an inn?”

“If it’s just something to eat, there’s a deli on the far side of town near the river,” the man suggests.  “But if you’re looking for both I’d go to Heinkel and Planinshek’s.  You keep going down this road and take a right at the end of it, you’ll see it on the right side next to the post office a little ways down.”

The three of them perk up at once at the mention of Heinkel’s name, but Edward is the first to rebound.  “To the right … okay, thanks.”

“Will you be staying in town a while?”  The man asks.

“We’ll see,” Ed answers.  “Uh … we’re also looking for a car.”

“Only a few folks in this town have cars -- Mr. Dougherty has one, but I don’t know if he’d drive you anywhere in this snowstorm.”

“Great, thanks for telling me,” Ed says, starting to turn away.

“Oh, one more thing,” the man announces, “While you’re here, try not to wander the streets alone at night.”

“Huh?  And why’s that?”

“Folks go missing around here sometimes,” he warns.  “Just letting you know.”

“Okay, you take care,” Ed says, nervously peeling himself away from the conversation.  He continues down the street as the man goes back to ambling past him.

Darius strides ahead to walk beside Edward.  “Seriously, Fullmetal, why did you have to tell him that we were looking for a car?  Now if we steal one, they’ll know it was us!”

“Is that the most important thing you got out of that conversation?!”

“It just needed to be addressed!”

“What, you don’t want to talk about the ‘people going missing’ part?  Or, you know … that?”

As they reach it, Ed gestures to the inn’s sign, which reads, in faded lettering, “Heinkel and Planinshek’s”.

“Well, what do you know,” Greed pipes up.  Ed and Darius look back at him in surprise, as he’s been lagging behind them.  “Coincidence, or do you think that’s why he didn’t want to tag along?”

“I’m guessing the latter,” Ed surmises.

“Huh.  Well, I’m not gonna pry into it.”  Greed continues walking past the tavern.

“Uh, Greed?”  Darius asks.  “Didn’t you wanna--”

“I need a little space right now,” he tells them.  “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Ed starts after Greed, but Darius rests a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him.  Silently, they watch as he turns down the street and disappears around the corner.

“I don’t like us splitting up like this,” Ed complains.  “Mr. Lion left, and now--”

“Fullmetal.”  Darius jabs a finger towards the inn.

“...Yeah, I guess we might as well.”

The warmth radiating from the inn is a welcome respite from the stinging chill of the outside, and Edward almost feels his worries melting away as he and Darius step through the door to the sight of a crackling fire and the scent of freshly-baked rolls.  Patrons seated at the tables chat and laugh amongst themselves, and a woman stands over one of the tables with a plate of food in hand, talking to the customers.  She appears to be in her forties, her blonde hair sporting streaks of grey and her frame rather plump.  When she notices Ed and Darius standing at the entrance, she sets the customers’ plate down on their table and hurries over to them.

“Can I get a table for you boys?”  She asks, smiling brightly.

“And a room for the night, if that’s okay,” Ed adds, digging his wallet out of his pocket.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll ring you up later,” she reassures him, gesturing towards a table near the back.  The two of them follow her and get seated.  “Wait here; I’ll be back with the menus.”

“This place is pretty nice,” Darius comments.

“Yeah, I’m surprised,” Ed agrees.  “I bet this place gets a lot of -- huh?  Do you hear that?”

Darius leans his head down in response -- though faint, it seems they’re both able to hear what sounds like banging against metal coming from beneath the floor.

“Weird…”  Darius says.

“You can take a look at these,” the woman interrupts, startling Edward and Darius.  She places the menus on the table before them.  “Are you two alright?”

“You hear that under us?  The banging?”  Darius blurts out.

“Those are probably the water pipes,” she explains.  “They keep them running this time of year so it doesn’t freeze over.”

“Oh, I see,” Edward responds, looking down at the menu.  “Can I get the beef stew, while you’re here?”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll take that too,” Darius adds.  “And a beer, if you have any.”

“You two decide fast,” the woman laughs.  “Is that all for now?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Okay,” she says, taking the menus from them.  “I’ll be right back with that.”

Ed and Darius make idle chatter for the next fifteen minutes until the woman returns with two steaming bowls on a platter, placing them down gently before them.  Edward’s face lights up immediately, as the smell reminds him a bit of Pinako’s cooking.

“Thank you, this looks delicious!”  He says, lifting the spoon to his mouth.  Just as he’d hoped, the meat and vegetables are warm and savory.

“I’m glad you think so,” she smiles back.  “I haven’t seen you two around before -- are you passing through?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Darius answers.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had visitors,” the woman notes.  “Where are you two headed?”

“Uh…”  Ed briefly considers telling her the truth, then thinks better of it.  “Central City.”

“Oh, well that’s about an hour away by train,” she says.  “There’s a station back across the river in Nefraum -- you didn’t miss it on the way here, did you?”

“We uh, came here from the west,” Ed lies, laughing a bit.

“Well, just letting you know,” the woman says, starting back towards the kitchen.

“Oh, wait,” Edward calls out to her.  “So, this place is called Heinkel and Planinshek’s?  You’re the owner, right?”

She stops.  “Yes.  I’m Elena Planinshek.”

“I see,” Edward nods.  “So, uh--”

“Is there a Heinkel running this place, too?”  Darius finishes.

Elena chuckles a bit.  “Heinkel is actually my maiden name.  My family’s owned this tavern for as long as it’s been here, so after my husband and I married, and we took ownership, we added his name.”

“Your family, huh?  Do they help you out around here, then?”

“Um…”  Elena’s expression turns sorrowful.  “They … used to.  I’m, uh, the only one left now.”

“Did they, uh, pass away? Or…”  Darius questions her.

Ed shoots Darius a look, but Elena answers anyway.  “This is going to sound hard to believe, but … every member of my immediate family has gone missing.”

Ed’s jaw drops.  “H...How many family members?  If-if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Have you contacted the military?”  Darius asks.

“I…” Elena suddenly seems stressed and uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” Ed says.

“No, it’s just … hard for me to talk about.  Especially to strangers,” Elena answers, turning away from them.  “I need to go take care of the other customers now.”

Ed and Darius stare after her as she goes over to one of the other tables.

“Didn’t handle that one well, did we,” Ed says through his teeth.

“My bad.”

“But I don’t get it,” Ed continues, cupping his mouth in his hand, “She said everyone in her immediate family disappeared … you don’t suppose Mr. Lion could be her brother or her cousin or something?  What’s his full name?”

“I actually have no idea.”

“Great.”  Ed sinks his head into his hands.  “I mean, at least we know what’s up with Mr. Lion, since he’s a … hm.”  As though suddenly noticing it, Ed starts eating his stew again.

Once they’ve finished eating, Elena comes to collect their dishes and ring them up, keeping chatter to a minimum.  When they’re ready, she brings them to their room upstairs -- it’s actually quite nice and well-furnished, with a bed for each of them and a soft carpet.  Though a bit drafty from the chill outside, the room is warmed a bit by the candelabra on the desk.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” Elena tells them.

“Sorry for all the trouble, Mrs. Planinshek,” Edward says sheepishly.  “Thanks for all this.”

Elena smiles at him warmly.  “No trouble at all.  Sleep well.”

While Elena makes her way back down to the lower level, neither Darius nor Ed budge from the doorframe.

“Think we should go find Greed?”  Darius asks.  “You were the one who wanted to team up with him in the first place.  Would be a shame if we lost track of him.”

“Sorry, I just … can’t stop thinking about this.”  Edward puts his hand to his chin.  “Mr. Gorilla … out of curiosity, how did you become a chimera?”

Darius seems lost in thought for a moment before answering.  “Well, they threw me in a laboratory.  Did tests on me.  I wasn’t awake for all of it, but--”

“No, I mean … sorry, but what were you doing before you were in that laboratory?  How did you get there?”

Darius’s expression sours a bit.  “I was, uh, I lived on the streets.  I was a nobody.  One day, a military car pulled up and they took me away.  That was it.”

“Someone who wouldn’t be missed…”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you know what Mr. Lion’s situation was before he became a chimera?”  Edward says abruptly.  “He never mentioned it, did he?”

“Me and Heinkel met for the first time when we were assigned to Kimblee,” Darius notes.  “Can’t say I know much about him before then, to be honest with you.”

“And this town is weird, isn’t it?”  Edward says.  “If you think about it, it’s not that far from Central -- a few hours by car, maybe.  The nearest train stop is twelve kilometers across the river.  Only a few of the locals even have cars.  And I’d bet money there’s no military office anywhere near here.  Yeah … it wouldn’t exactly make big waves across the country if a few people in this town went missing.”

“Your brain’s going a mile a minute, Fullmetal,” Darius groans.  “What are you getting at?”

“The government’s always looking for people to experiment on … so it wouldn’t surprise me if this lady’s family was taken for that very reason.”

“Oh, god.”  Darius puts a hand to his forehead.  “That makes sense!  Poor lady, though…”

“Mr. Lion’s gotta be related to her,” Edward decides.  “He’s one of her missing family members.”

“Then why didn’t he want to see her?  She seems nice enough.”

“Must be some personal reason.  But my point is, the rest of her family could still be alive somewhere--”

Ever so faintly, Edward hears the pipes banging from below again.  Or are they..?

“Mr. Gorilla,” Ed starts, “How much do you wanna bet those aren’t the water pipes doing that?”

Darius makes a noise of exhaustion.  “I thought we were laying low from the military.  You really wanna get involved in this?”

“When I see someone as miserable as that lady, I can’t stand it,” Edward says, evidently trying to be aloof.  “If her family’s out there, she shouldn’t have to suffer like that, thinking she’s all alone.”

With that, Edward leaves the room and starts down the stairs, with Darius hastily following suit.  The tavern is now emptier than it was before -- Elena is likely in the back room, Edward concludes -- and the two of them remain relatively unnoticed when they step back out into the cold.  Thankfully, it’s stopped snowing, and with the tavern lying partially under the railroad’s scaffolding, the area around it has only been lightly dusted.

“Help me look for something that leads underground,” Ed tells Darius.  “Like a hatch or something.”

The two of them spend a few hours scouring the town, and it’s late into the night with no one else around when Darius spots a manhole cover at the far end of town.  He alerts Ed, and together they’re able to lift it and enter below.  It’s quite a bit more cramped than Ed had expected, but at a surface level it seems like a normal sewer.

“So what do you think we’ll find down here?”  Darius asks him.  “Like a tunnel that leads back to Central or something?”

“I mean, it’s not out of the question,” Ed replies.  “But it’s more likely that there’s a laboratory of some kind down here.  The government always seems to have a fresh supply of secret laboratories -- in Central, my brother and I found this laboratory that was supposed to have been shut down, but they were still running operations inside.  Could be like that.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about,” Darius agrees.  “See anything out of the ordinary here?”

“Hmm…”  Edward spends a while walking through the winding tunnels with Darius, suddenly stopping in front of a wall next to a grate.  “Bingo.”

“You found something?”

“This wall has been sealed up with alchemy,” Ed explains, pointing out the unnatural-looking scuffs running along it.  “There’s gotta be something behind it.”

Darius trembles a bit.  “Oh … alright.”

“You good?”

“Uh, well…”  Darius sucks in his breath.  “I’m getting a bad feeling about this.  Not to sound like Heinkel, but it’s like my animal instincts are telling me to run away.”

Ed snorts.  “Screw your animal instincts.”  Clapping his hands together, he places them against a wall, forming a rather elaborate door decorated with skull motifs.

“Ugh … is that really necessary?”

“It looks badass.”  Edward pushes the door open, revealing behind it the walls of what appears to be a basement cellar.  Although, it’s certainly unusual for a basement cellar -- as Edward had suspected, contained within the room they’ve entered is what appears to be a fully-stocked alchemy lab.

A bookshelf in the corner bursts with journals and encyclopedias, and the walls are lined with transmutation and human anatomy charts.  A desk is cluttered with loose papers and vials, and various pots and mason jars lie strewn on the floor with residual liquid still at the bottom.  Though it is rather dimly lit, there appears to be an opening leading to a hallway -- and they can hear the same banging they’d heard from the tavern, now much closer.

“Fullmetal..?” Darius whispers, the fear in his voice apparent.  “Something … something down here smells foul.”

“Hey, you were the one acting all tough earlier,” Ed hisses back.  “The only people around are probably just guards or prisoners, we can take ‘em.  I seriously doubt there’s any homunculi down here.”

Gulping down the bile rising in his throat, Darius follows Ed as they slowly make their way into the room.  Edward grabs a lit lantern sitting on the desk, taking it with him as he stalks out into the hallway.  It is narrow and covered in cobwebs, and as they enter it they begin to hear a low, guttural groan that accompanies the banging.  As Edward gropes around ahead of him, he finds the handle to a metal door.  When he opens it, a blast of cold air even sharper than that of the outside engulfs him.

“Some kind of freezer room,” Edward comments as he steps inside.

“Reminds me of a meat locker,” Darius whispers.  The interior is surprisingly rather barren, save for a mostly empty shelving unit.  Its bottom right side contains a few large, round, translucent white plastic containers with some kind of substance within.  Out of curiosity, Darius picks one up and cracks the lid off, getting a good whiff of its contents.

“This is human flesh.”

Edward squints, looking down into the container himself.  “How do you know?”

“Trust me, I know .”

“Ooof course it is,” Edward says almost defeatedly.  “Wouldn’t expect any less from the military.”

With some hesitation, Darius closes the container and puts it back where he found it, and they proceed out of the freezer room, now heading towards what seems to be a larger room at the end of the hallway.  The smell has grown strong enough now that it even reaches Edward’s nostrils.

“Whatever that thing is, we’re getting closer to it,” Darius warns Ed.

Ed stops suddenly as they come out into the larger room, swinging his lantern towards something large pushed against the wall.  It’s an enormous cage, and within it is a very large, cobbled-together conveyor belt with its internal gears and mechanism poking out of the top, while a heavy-looking tub is placed at the end of it.  Darius isn’t looking at it, however -- instead, he stares at a light far ahead of them on the wall, next to a wooden door.

“Fullmetal, we’re in someone’s basement,” he whispers.  “And--”  He shudders audibly, stepping back.  “Something’s moving over there.”

At last, Edward seems equally as afraid as Darius as he realizes they’ve found the source of the clanging metal.  For several moments, his feet are frozen to the ground.  Then, slowly, he takes his lantern and walks over to the source of the noise.

“What … what the hell?”  Edward is afraid to move the light any closer than he already has, for even his approach has made the creature’s breathing more erratic.  

There is another cage against the wall opposite the conveyor belt, but within it is a creature that just vaguely resembles a human.  Though defined by its hairlessness and hollow eyes, it is unnaturally sallow and grey, with strangely elongated limbs (and Ed thinks he is able to count an extra pair of arms).  However, a deathly stench of decay permeates the creature’s very being, and Ed realizes that it is rotting alive when he sees the bone nearly sticking out from one of its arms.  It scrambles desperately to get at Edward and Darius from the cage, saliva dripping from its maw as a low whine emits from its throat.  For a long time they watch it, transfixed and too frightened to move.

“Have … you seen anything like this before, Fullmetal?”

Ed shakes his head.  “I … no, I’ve--”

He hears a loud crack coming from behind them, and watches Darius collapse to the ground in front of him.  Immediately, the creature begins trying to grab at Darius, nipping the back of his head with its skeletal fingers.  Ed immediately whips his head around, trying to see what had attacked Darius, but the last thing he witnesses before losing consciousness is Elena lunging at him with a blunt, heavy object.

---------------

“So what are you doing, Greed?”

Greed makes a face as he trudges up the snow-laden hill.  “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re going after Heinkel, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” Ling compliments him.  “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Don’t read into it, kid,” Greed retorts.  “I just don’t like my numbers getting thinned out like that, is all.”

“So what’s the plan, you’re just going to wander around out here until you find him and drag him back with you?”

“Something like that,” Greed replies, clutching the rock in his pocket.  “Well, not exactly.  I’ve been thinking about the little alchemy lesson your friend gave me.  Remember what he said?”

“It’s just a rock, Greed!  It’s useless!”  Ling mimics.

Greed laughs.  “No, the other thing, the one about how equivalent exchange isn’t really equivalent exchange.  You get something better out than what you put in to make it.  Basically, what I’m saying is, I’m not super happy losing one of my minions over something as dumb as him not … wanting to run into his parents or whatever.  So we’ll just do what he wants to do for now, and I get my henchman back.”

“Hey, looks like you have the whole equivalent exchange thing down,” Ling jokes.  “Congratulations, Greed, you’re a real alchemist now.  Although, I don’t know how easy it’s gonna be to get Heinkel to come back, you know.  He seemed pretty upset with you in particular.”

“I know, right?”  Greed chuckles.  “And he was talking all about how he liked you better than me.”

“Hey,” Ling begins, “Why don’t you let me talk to him?”

“What, like in person?”

“Yeah, give me my body back.”

“My body.”

“It’ll be easier for me to find him, anyways.”

“You know what, Ling, sure,” Greed says.  “But don’t you dare run off with it.  I’ll take over again.”

“No promises.”  Ling takes a deep breath of the cold air, wiggling his fingers as he gets used to being in control of himself again.  For a moment, he drops to the ground, feeling the frozen earth beneath him, before getting back up and striding forward across the hill.

Greed isn’t sure what to make of where Ling is going, or how he knows where to go, but it isn’t too long before they discover Heinkel sitting on the tree stump at the edge of the woods from earlier that day, facing away from Ling.

Silently, Ling goes over to sit on the ground next to Heinkel, but he is noticed as soon as he does so.  With a growl, Heinkel darts forward and grabs Ling by the back of his collar, lifting him up into the air.

“What do you want, Greed?”

“Hehe, relax!”  Ling reassures him.  “It’s me, Ling, remember?”

“Huh.”  Heinkel examines Ling closer, confirming his identity from his considerably un-Greed-like, serene expression. Once he’s satisfied, he drops Ling on the ground unceremoniously.  “Guess I can buy that.  You managed to fight him off again?”

“Nope, he’s just taking a snooze,” Ling replies.  “But he was worried about you, so we came to see if you were doing okay!”

“Was he?”  Heinkel scoffs.  “Doubt it.”

“You can hear it from him yourself, if you want.”

“I thought the point was you were going to talk to him instead of me,” Greed points out.

“Just giving him some options.”

“Nah, screw him,” Heinkel says bitterly.  

“Hey…”  Ling starts.  “Who are you really mad at, Heinkel?  Is it Greed?  Ed?  Darius?  Yourself?”

“The hell are you on about?”  Heinkel barks.  “I’m a little pissed at everybody right now, to be honest.  Just wish you people would listen to me when I tell you not to go somewhere.”

“Why was that, again?”

“My gut’s telling me to stay far away from there,” he grunts.  “Alright?”

“Okay.”

Heinkel sits back down on the stump next to Ling, who remains on the ground.  “...There is someone I’m mad at.”

“Who might that be?”

“Kimblee.”  Heinkel adjusts his glasses.  “Shit, the rest of the military, while I’m at it.  Thought it was over for me when I got caught in that explosion at the border, but they brought me back as a chimera.  Told me I was an elite officer.  Truth is, I’m just as expendable to them as anyone else in the military.  Never allowed to have an opinion.  Kimblee treated us like shit, left us to die.”

He pauses, seemingly waiting for Ling to say something, before continuing.  “Fullmetal saved our asses when he was on the ground bleeding to death.  Although, that was so we could save him … but it felt nice to be valued again, I guess.  Nah, he’s a good kid.”

“Amestris … here, all the people are simply expected to serve their country, their ruler, their superiors; isn’t that right?”  Ling asks.  “Not the other way around.  Unless you’re in a position of power, you’re no one’s priority.”

“Ehh, that’s not all true,” Heinkel argues.  “I feel like that’s mostly the government and the military.  Would’ve been different if I’d just stayed with my family, but … it was too late for me to turn back at that point.  But I can’t say I regret it.  Well … I don’t know...”

“Family troubles?”  Ling asks.

“Well, it’s … complicated,” Heinkel says with some hesitation.  “I’d tell you to keep it to yourself, but I bet Greed’s listening … I grew up in that town down there.  Worcester.”

“What?  You did?”

“Geez, could you act any less surprised?”  Greed heckles him.  “You’re a terrible actor, you know that?”

“Geez, could you act any less surprised?”  Heinkel says immediately after.  “Although, I was being too obvious, wasn’t I.”

“You know something’s wrong when even a lion is scared,” Ling chuckles.

“I’m not scared,” Heinkel snaps.  “It’s just … well … I guess part of it is, uh … when we become chimeras, we’re dead to our families.  We can’t exactly go back and say hello.  We’re monsters now.”

“But that’s not the only problem, is it?”  Ling replies.  “Something tells me you left your family on a less-than-happy note.”

“Mmh.  My parents ran an inn … my older sister Elena and I grew up working there.  Elena was … she was very smart, and a gifted alchemist from a young age, like Fullmetal, I’d imagine.  We half-expected her to leave and go get her state certification, but she didn’t want to.  She wanted to stay with me and our parents … she always put her family, her loved ones first, no matter what.”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” Ling says.

“She inspired me,” Heinkel says fondly.  “As a child, I’d had aspirations of living this big life as a military general, a decorated hero, but … she showed me that family was more important.  I knew I couldn’t leave my parents and my sister behind, either.  It was our inn.  Our family.”

“Huh.  That’s kinda nice.”

“One day, another alchemist passed through town,” Heinkel continues.  “Arthur Planinshek.  He wasn’t state certified or anything, but he liked to call himself the ‘Neural Alchemist’.  He was, um, a bio-alchemist, but his real passion was studying and altering brain chemistry.  Elena was so fascinated by him, and they started doing research together.  Before we knew it, he was moving in with us, and they were married.  My parents were getting old, so they gave Elena and Arthur ownership of the inn.  But a few years later, uh … Arthur started acting strange.”

“Strange?”  Ling asks.

“It was like his whole personality changed,” Heinkel explains.  “He was just … acting odd.  Doing strange things.  I started to see less and less of him -- he was spending more and more time in their laboratory in the cellar, and … one day, I stopped seeing him for good.  Elena told us he’d vanished in the night … and it came as no surprise, as a couple other people had disappeared around town as well.  Our parents couldn’t really move around as much anymore -- our mother was sick, too, there was a terrible epidemic going around back then -- so … I was the first to find out the truth.

“I’d been spending most of my time taking care of our parents, but I was worried about Elena.  One day I came over to help out at the inn, and I couldn’t find her in any of the main rooms, so I went to check the cellar.  That’s when I found out that … that Arthur had never left the inn.  He’d transformed into some kind of mindless, slobbering creature.  When Elena found me, she explained everything.  Arthur had been experimenting on himself -- his body and his mind -- he was trying to turn himself into something that was beyond human, but it went terribly wrong.  He’d begun transforming into something worse than he could have imagined … a monster that craved human flesh.  He’d been trying desperately to find a way to reverse what he’d done, to change himself back, but by that point he’d lost his mind, lost his body.  He’d been … feeding on people.

“Elena loved Arthur so much … she was doing everything she could to bring his mind back, throwing herself into her research.  But he was starving to death.  She’d tried to feed him all sorts of things, but he’d only eat the flesh of another human.  She would feed him some of the inn patrons that were passing through town when she could.  And she made me promise not to tell a soul in town.  And of course, I didn’t -- she was my sister.

“But after a while, she wanted me to … to help.”  Heinkel’s voice begins to crack.  “She showed me the process and everything -- sedate the inn patron while they’re sleeping, grind them up, put the meat in containers, feed him twice a month … it made me sick to my stomach.  It felt wrong.  I knew she could stomach it because she loved Arthur, he was our family, but … I was … I didn’t know what to think, what to do.  I didn’t want to be involved in it.  I didn’t know what would happen if she was discovered by anyone else, by our parents, I just … I couldn’t be involved.  I didn’t want to be near her, but I didn’t want to expose her, either.  I ran away from my sister, my parents, my brother-in-law; and I joined the military.  I abandoned my family because … I was a coward.”

“You can tell him he’s still a better man than me,” Greed suggests.  “I abandoned my family because they pissed me off.”

“I’m at a loss for words,” Ling says solemnly.  “You have my condolences.”

“You want to know the funny part?”  Heinkel laughs darkly.  “As a soldier I was basically doing the same thing.  Butchering people, I mean.  Except it was legal.  So I guess it wouldn’t have made a difference if I stayed or left.  Yeah … it was cowardly of me to leave, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was,” Ling agrees.

“Thanks a lot.”

“You know, back in Xing, I have a lot of siblings,” Ling continues.  “About forty.  We’re all from different clans, but we have the same father -- the Emperor.  One of my sisters is actually here in Amestris, but I don’t really consider her my family … the same for my other siblings.  My real family is the Yao clan, and I came to Amestris on their behalf.  If I return to my country with the secrets of immortality, my clan’s status will be elevated and we will live more prosperously than ever before.  I couldn’t imagine turning my back on them.”

“Well, you did discover the secrets of immortality, didn’t you?”  Heinkel says gruffly.  “Shouldn’t you be running on home?”

“Greed won’t let me.”

“Figures.”

“But what’s stopping you from going home, Heinkel?”  Ling asks.  

“I can’t,” Heinkel says defeatedly.  “I can’t face them again.  How can I, after I abandoned them?”

“What a pathetic thing to say,” Ling replies, his tone becoming deathly serious.  “So you haven’t learned anything from all those years ago.  You’re still willing to turn your back on them for your own sake.  Your family, Heinkel.  They were more important to you than anything!”

“I hate to be the one to bring this up,” Greed mentions, “But I feel as though we’re glossing over the fact that his sister just kills people and feeds them to her husband.” 

Heinkel seems taken aback by Ling’s words.  “What-what the hell do you want me to do?”

“I can’t make you do anything,” Ling says.  “But you said it yourself, didn’t you?  Your sister would never turn her back on her family.  You admired that about her -- how she would always find a way to work things out, to provide for her family.”

“Goddamn,” Heinkel sighs, putting his head in his hands.  “I need to go see them, don’t I?  I … I need to make it up to them.  To fix this.”

Ling does not respond, and for several moments they sit there in silence.  Suddenly, Ling doubles over and clutches his stomach.

“What’s wrong?”  Heinkel asks.

“Ah … this is the worst time for it, but I’m super hungry,” Ling groans.  “You don’t have any food on you, do you?”

“Tell you what,” Heinkel says, “My sister serves the best food in Worcester -- let’s get you a meal down in the valley, huh?”

He starts walking towards the town, but notices that Ling is still collapsed on the ground.  “You coming?”

Ling reaches up at Heinkel.  “C...carry me…”

Heinkel makes a noise of exasperation.  “A minute ago you’re chewing me out, and now you want me to carry you?”

Ling gives Heinkel the most pleading look he can muster.

Rolling his eyes, Heinkel bends over to pick Ling up, shoving him roughly onto his back.  “You owe me a favor for this.”

“I’ll do anything,” Ling says hoarsely.

“Hm.”  Heinkel is lost in thought for a moment as he carries Ling down the hill.  “I want you to explain that joke to me.  The one about Fullmetal being a homunculus.”

“Oh … haha … in some old language, homunculus means ‘little man’ … and Ed is a little man…”

Heinkel lets out a hearty laugh.  “That is pretty funny!”

---------------

“This isn’t funny,” a voice grunts.  “Let us out of here!”

It’s enough to jolt Edward awake, and as he looks around, he sees that he’s still in the cellar, and it’s somewhat more brightly lit than before.  Even though he’s just regaining consciousness, he feels much more sluggish than usual, and it takes a moment for him to realize that he’s behind the bars of one of the cages.  He starts for a moment before realizing the creature is in the cage across from them, meaning he’s in the cage with the conveyor belt.  Though he’s been laid on his back, he tilts his head down to look around, and can vaguely see across from him that Elena stands over his legs, and appears to be unscrewing his automail.

“What are you--!”

Ed tries to kick his leg away from her, but he’s unable -- his body has been bound together tightly with twine, and he can barely move.

“The machine doesn’t digest metal very well,” Elena says quietly.  “I need to get these off of you first.”

Edward cranes his neck around, gasping when he sees that his automail arm is already lying on the ground.

“I’m serious, Mrs. Planinshek,” Darius’s voice threatens from behind Ed.  “I’ll scream if I have t--”

As Elena moves behind Edward’s line of sight, he hears Darius’s voice being quickly muffled.

“You’re the only ones staying at the inn tonight,” Elena tells him.  “But I don’t want to risk disturbing the neighbors.”

“You’re … going to grind us up, aren’t you?”  Edward asks, his breathing labored.  “It’ll be strange when we’re missing tomorrow, won’t it?”

“What can I say,” Elena smiles.  “Travelers that pass through here tend to leave early in the morning when everyone else is asleep.”

“Why … why are you..?”  Ed struggles to get his words across, but everything around him feels slow and dreamlike.

“Don’t struggle, dear,” Elena advises him.  “It will be much easier if you’re asleep for this.  It’s unfortunate … half of you is made of metal, and my Arthur just won’t eat that. There’s not much meat on you, boy.  But you--”  --Elena looks over at Darius--  “--You will feed Arthur for a long time.”

Darius makes a muffled, panicked noise as Elena goes back to meddling with Edward’s leg.  However, she stops suddenly as faint voices can be heard coming from above them.

“She might be sleeping upstairs.”

Elena’s eyes widen.  Without wasting time, she gets up and takes a rag from her pocket, tying it around Edward’s mouth.  She exits the cage, and “Arthur” reaches for her from his own cage as she makes her way up the stairwell out of the cellar and disappears through the door at the top.

Darius seems to be trying to say something to Edward, but it is completely unintelligible.  Edward tries to block it out, however, straining to hear the voices above him.

“...Who the hell are you?”

“Elena.  It’s … it’s been a while, hasn’t it.”

Elena and the other people above them say something that Edward can’t quite make out, only picking up a few bits and pieces.

“I guess so…”  One of the voices replies.  “If it’s not too much trouble, can we get a meal for the kid?  He’s really starving.”

The voices grow too quiet and far away for Edward to hear, and for what seems like an hour or two he finds himself drifting in and out of consciousness.  Finally, he is startled awake again by the sound of Darius letting out a pained grunt behind him.

“Mmph!?”

“Damn,” Darius groans, his voice back to normal.  “This stuff she used to tie us up is strong.  I tried transforming to get free, but it cut into my skin.  And it wasn’t easy to transform, either … that lady definitely drugged us or something.  HEEEEELP!  HEEEELP, WE’RE DOWN HERE!”

Though he didn’t say, Edward can only assume Darius had managed to get the rag out of his mouth.  Edward tries moving it himself, but it’s tied rather tightly, and he listens to Darius shout for half a minute more before the door to the cellar creaks open.

“Darius?  That’s you down there, isn’t it?”  Heinkel stands in the doorframe, with Elena and (at least, Edward presumes) Ling behind him.  “And Fullmetal?”

“Heinkel!  Greed!  You’ve gotta get us out of here!”  Darius yells.

As Heinkel starts down the stairs, Elena clutches his shoulder.  “Please … I’ve almost run out of food for him … he hasn’t been eating lately; I need fresh meat for him...”

Heinkel gently takes her hand off of him.  “No … this isn’t right, Elena.  You know that, deep down.  Arthur wouldn’t have wanted this, either.”

“I’m so close to getting him back,” Elena argues, a note of desperation in her voice.  “He … last week, he said my name again.  Please, I just need more time … I just need a few more months…”

Ling, meanwhile, has made his way down the staircase, and hovers close to Arthur’s cage.  “Hey … this is Mr. Planinshek, isn’t it?  He looks a little--”

Arthur lunges forward and grabs Ling’s outstretched arm, dragging him closer to the bars of the cage.  Ling yelps and tries to scramble back, but is powerless as Arthur grabs him, holding Ling’s face close to his.  Before anything further can happen, Heinkel and Elena both grab Ling and yank him away from Arthur’s clutches, landing on the ground away from him.

“How can you be so reckless?”  Elena admonishes Ling.  “He’d have eaten you if he’d gotten the chance, you know that?”

“But … he didn’t…”  Ling says slowly.

“Would you guys stop messing around and get us out?” Darius says in frustration.  “This woman is insane!  She’s trying to chop us up and feed us to that thing in the cage!  Just like she did with the rest of her family!”

“...Elena?”  Heinkel casts a distrustful glance towards her.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Elena rejoins.  “I told you -- Mom and Dad passed away.  They were sick.  It was hard to take care of them myself, with you gone--”

“That’s not what you said earlier, that’s not what you said earlier!”  Darius talks over her.  “Earlier, she said that her whole family went missing!  And I bet she told that story to the whole town, too!”

Though Edward can’t speak, he nods furiously to back Darius up.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Elena says in earnest.

“No no no, don’t listen to her!”  Darius shouts.  “Heinkel,  you’re not gonna let her kill us, right?  You have to believe me!”

“Elena,” Heinkel says firmly.  “Tell me what happened to Mom and Dad.  And you’d better tell the truth.”

Tears begin to trickle down Elena’s cheeks.  “Huxley, they … they found out about Arthur.  They were furious, when they saw what he’d turned into, they wanted him killed.  I couldn’t -- I couldn’t let them tell anyone, so I--”

“You did feed them to Arthur.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t left us!”  Elena sobs.  “You were supposed to help me!  But you ran away, Huxley, you don’t -- you don’t understand what it’s like for Arthur.  He’s still in there, but he’s trapped inside that monster--!”

“You think I wouldn’t understand?”  Heinkel shouts, a growl rising in his throat.  “Do you want to see a real monster, Elena?  Do you?”

Heinkel’s frame grows larger as he towers over Elena, fur sprouting from his skin as his face morphs into that of a beast.  Elena screams in terror, backing herself against the wall next to the conveyor belt.

“This has gone far enough, Elena,” Heinkel snarls.  “You’re going to let the two of them go, and you’re not going to kill anyone else for your little science project.  Understand?”

Elena whimpers, shaking as she clasps her hands together -- then, immediately after, she places them onto a transmutation circle printed on the wall behind her, almost indistinguishable from the paneling.  Evidently, this is connected to the conveyor belt, as Edward can feel his body start to move while the sound of blades whirring far behind his head nearly deafens him.  It pales in comparison, however, to the sound of the gears that poke out of the top of the machine, clanking and turning together.

“HEINKEL, GREED, GET US OUT OF HERE!”  Darius howls.

Immediately, Heinkel makes his way over to the door of the cage, trying to wrench it open -- it’s locked tight, so he begins trying to force the bars apart.  Ling, on the other hand, has his hands in his pockets, gazing at the conveyor belt for a moment before removing the rock from his pocket.  Ed would love nothing more to scream at Ling in this moment, but he watches as Ling throws the rock purposefully through the bars.  Soon after, the conveyor belt begins jerking back and forth in place, with the gears making a strange noise as though malfunctioning.  Shortly after, Heinkel manages to rip the door off of the cage.

“Did you see that, Ed?”  Ling says, running in after Heinkel.  “Inequivalent exchange!  I traded the rock for your lives!”

“Hrmphh--”

Heinkel rips the rag out of Edward’s mouth as Ling starts untying him.

“I bet Greed wasn’t too happy about that,” Ed says hoarsely.  “It was his favorite rock.”

“Yep!  He’s furious.”

Heinkel wastes less time than Ling, using his claws to rip the twine off of both Edward and Darius.  It isn’t long after, however, that a gunshot pierces the air, and Heinkel clutches his shoulder.

“I don’t want to have to kill you, Huxley,” Elena threatens, “But I can’t let them leave.  I can’t let them tell anyone.”

Edward tries to get up from the conveyor belt, his movements still slow.  “Damn … the sedatives haven’t worn off yet.  And I’m no use without my arm … sorry…”

Darius groans, slow in getting up as well.  At the same time, Heinkel stumbles out of the cage, and Ling himself darts out more nimbly, running towards Elena, who has moved higher up on the stairs.  As he gets close to her, he suddenly reels back, clutching his head.  Taking advantage of Ling’s faltering, Elena shoots him twice in the head, causing him to fall back down the stairs.

“That was close,” Edward hears his voice mutter from the ground.

“How was that close?”  Heinkel says incredulously.

“Kid almost used my body to hit a woman,” Greed explains.

“Are you serious right now?!”  Edward shouts.  “Me and Mr. Gorilla can barely move!  If you guys can’t take her down, we’re all gonna die here--AAGH!”  As he tries to put weight on his left leg, it shifts out from under him, pulling on the nerve endings in his leg.

“I’d never hurt a lady,” Greed says calmly, getting back up as the wounds on his forehead heal themselves.  “That’s just messed up.”

“I’m gonna kill you if she doesn’t do it first!”

As if on cue, Elena shoots Greed another few times in the chest, the bullets bouncing off this time rather than piercing him.  “What the hell are you?”

Greed flashes a grin at her.  “Another monster.”  He quickly darts away as the Ultimate Shield crawls down to his hands, turning his fingers to claws.  

Elena attempts to aim for him again, but Heinkel starts to barrel towards her.  Edward has little time to process this as the conveyor belt starts moving again, and in panic he throws himself off of it, landing face-first on the ground.  Darius grabs Edward and hefts him up on his back, running with Edward behind the end of the conveyor belt out of Elena’s line of fire.

“Elena, I don’t want to hurt you, either,” Heinkel says, grabbing her wrist.  She attempts to shoot wildly, but her gun has run out of ammunition.  “Just stop this, alright?  We can figure this out together--!”

Elena begins pounding at Heinkel’s arm, but his grip doesn’t loosen.  As Ed looks out from behind the end of the conveyor belt, however, he’s surprised to see that Greed is slashing through the bars to Arthur’s cage, ducking out of the way as Arthur lunges through the new opening.  

“What are you doing?!”  Heinkel and Elena ask at nearly the same time.  Arthur only glances at  Greed, somewhat mournfully, before scrambling towards the cage with the conveyor belt.  He starts to crawl up onto it, and it begins carrying him into the tunnel with sharp blades.

“NO! NO!”  

In his surprise, Heinkel’s grip on Elena loosens, and she pushes him away and runs down to the wall next to the conveyor belt.  Though she slams her hands to the transmutation circle, she is too late when the conveyor belt stops whirring -- Arthur has been all but chewed up by the blades, and flecks of his residue fly out the back of the machine and stick to Edward’s hair.

“NO!”  Tears stream down Elena’s face as she runs over to the conveyor belt, but there’s barely anything left of her husband.  “No, no, no…”

“So Ling was right,” Greed calls out.  “Or, rather, you were right, Mrs. Planinshek.”

“What-what are you talking about?”  Elena stutters.

“I think you hit on it -- your husband’s mind was coming back,” Greed says.  “At least, that’s what the kid told me.  But he didn’t want to hurt anyone else, you get it?  Guess he just wanted to die.”

“I was close,” Elena cries.  “I was so close; why did you do that?  Why did you do that?  You should have let me--”

“No,” Darius interrupts.  “That’s … no way to live.  Spending your life like that in a cage.  It wasn’t right.”

“You don’t know anything!”  Elena protests, her voice becoming raspy.  “I did it to protect--”

“Mrs. Planinshek, are you in here?”  A voice calls from upstairs.  “We heard gunshots, are you alright?”

“Down here!”  Heinkel shouts, reverting back to his human form before turning to the others.  “I’ll carry Ed.  Greed, can you get his arm?”

“Sure,” Greed says, sauntering over to pick it up.  He brushes past Elena, who remains shaking on the ground.  “Chin up, sweetheart.  You’re gonna need to think up a good excuse to get outta this one.”

---------------

Despite Greed’s advice, Elena doesn’t even attempt to defend herself as Heinkel explains the situation to the men upstairs, cutting no corners.  They believe him rather easily, taking note of Heinkel’s injury and Edward’s impairment, and remarking that Elena had been suspicious for a while, yet they’d never had a solid enough reason to investigate her.

“Never thought I’d see you like this again, Huxley,” one of the men says, rubbing his head.  “Barely even recognized you.  Where have you been all these years, anyway -- you weren’t trapped in the cellar, too, were you?”

“Not exactly,” Heinkel answers.  “But now’s not the time to catch up.  It’s more important that we get an automail mechanic for the kid right now.”

“And a doctor,” Edward adds.  “You got shot, remember?”

“The doctor should be here in an hour,” the man explains.  “And we called the military, so they’ll be here by early morning.  We don’t have an automail mechanic in town, as far as I know, but I’m sure the military can send one in as well.”

“Oh, uh,” Ed starts, “I, uh, on second thought, I don’t think I can wait for the military to show up.  You guys wouldn’t happen to have a car we could borrow?  Rush Valley isn’t far from here, they can take care of my automail.”

The man blinks in confusion.  “It’d be quicker to wait for the military.  We’re closer to Central City than we are to Rush Valley -- and besides, they’ll need to write up a report--”

“My … regular mechanic is in Rush Valley,” Ed says hastily.  “That’s the thing about automail, if the person who made it isn’t the one to fix it, they could really mess it up.  I need my regular mechanic to look at it as soon as possible.”

“Could’ve mentioned that sooner,” the man says in exasperation.

“And it’s only a four, five-hour drive, right?”  Darius adds.  “We can go with him and get a doctor in the city, too.”

“Huxley has a bullet in his shoulder--”

“I’ve seen worse,” Heinkel says, glowering at the man a bit.  “Just get us the car, okay?”

“Okay, okay, you can borrow mine,” the man finally agrees.  “It’s next door in my garage, if you’re ready to head out.”

“I’m ready,” Greed says, getting up.  He leans over to Elena, who is being held securely by two of the other men.  “Thought I’d pass along the message -- thanks for all the food, Mrs. Planinshek.  You sure can cook.”

Elena glares at him, but looks over as Heinkel approaches her as well, his gaze pitying.

“Goodbye, Elena.”

“I never want to see you again,” she spits.

With that, Heinkel turns his back on Elena, and he and his cohorts follow the man outside to his car.

“See you soon, Huxley,” the man says to Heinkel as he climbs into the driver’s seat.  “Don’t be a stranger, okay?  I don’t know what’s going to happen to the inn, but my wife and I would be happy to put you up in our house if you need it.  Really.”

Greed gets into the passenger seat next to Heinkel, and Edward lays nearly flat in the backseat as Darius props him up.

“I’ll think about it,” Heinkel replies.  “Thank you for everything, Marcus.”

“My pleasure.”

Heinkel starts the engine, and soon the four of them are riding out of town, the countryside dark and cold save for the headlights blazing through.

“Idiot’s never getting his car back,” Heinkel scoffs as they pass the last building out of town.

“Old friend of yours?”  Darius asks from the backseat.

“Eh, we grew up together,” Heinkel replies.

“So, your full name is Huxley Heinkel?”  Edward asks.

“Actually, it’s Heinkel Huxley.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, good for you, Huxley Heinkel,” Greed says.  “You, uh, faced your fears and overcame your family problems, and all that.”

“I hope you all learned something,” Heinkel says bitterly.

“And what’s that?”  Ed asks.

“None of this would have happened if you’d listened to me in the first place,” Heinkel scolds them.

“What, do you want us to trust your animal instincts, Huxley Heinkel?”  Ed snickers.

“Okay, you’re laughing, but that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Heinkel retorts.  “My animal instincts tell me when there’s danger, you know.”

“Same here,” Darius agrees.  “Yeah, if you’d listened to me back in that tunnel, Fullmetal, you’d probably still have your arm on!”

“Yeah, fair point.”

“You really freaked me out, you know that, Heinkel?”  Darius gripes.  “Usually, you’re the bravest out of all of us.  Seeing you get like that … it worried me, you know?”

“Aww, were you really worried about me?”  Heinkel laughs.  “Didn’t seem like it.”

Darius almost turns red, and the car is silent for a bit.

“I’m still pretty pissed at Ling,” Greed mutters.  “That was my favorite rock, you know.”

“Didn’t you try to get it back?”  Heinkel asks.

“It must’ve gotten ground up or something,” Greed sighs.

“I bet if Ed got all the pieces, he could transmute it back into a regular rock,” Heinkel suggests.

“Yeah, why don’t we send Ed back to get ‘em all?”  Greed says, turning back to look at him.

“Wow, thanks a lot, Huxley Heinkel.”

“Can you just go back to calling me Mr. Lion or something?”

Chapter Text

“Hey, Fullmetal,” Heinkel asks him an hour into the trip, “About you seeing an automail mechanic right away, was it actually urgent or were you just making it up back there?”

“Yeah, I was lying,” Edward admits.  “It’s probably not a big deal.”

“In that case, I’m gonna get some shuteye,” Heinkel replies, pulling the car over to the side of the road and turning the engine off.

“That sounds good to me,” Darius yawns.  “To think we went to all the trouble of paying for that room and we didn’t even get to sleep in it.  Probably for the best, anyways, would’ve made it easier for Mrs. Planinshek to kill us in our sleep if we did.”

“Have to wonder why she didn’t just kill us when we were unconscious,” Ed says thoughtfully.

“I don’t think she had anything she could’ve killed us with other than that gun.”

“Could’ve strangled us to death.  With the twine.”

“She was so dumpy, no way she was strong enough to do that.”

“You have to be pretty strong to pull a trigger, idiot.”

“Can we please drop the subject?”  Heinkel interrupts.

“They’re making good points,” Greed observes.

“Not you, too,” Heinkel groans, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.  “When are we getting Ling back, anyways?”

“Huh?  Ideally, never,” Greed answers.  “This is my body, not his.  He gave it to me.  He’s just like my backseat driver who never shuts up.”

“I miss him already,” Heinkel sighs.  “He was my little buddy.”

“Oh, boohoo,” Greed retorts.  “What does Ling have that I don’t?”

“He’s definitely smarter than you,” Darius says immediately.

“Good listener,” Heinkel adds.

“Actually able to fight a woman,” says Ed.

“The answer’s still no,” Greed yawns.  “Anyways, I’m gonna get some sleep in, too.”  He closes his eyes and leans back in his seat.  Not ten minutes later, he can be heard softly snoring.

—————

The four of them end up sleeping until noon, and Greed is the last to wake up when he hears the other three talking to each other.

“Yeah, Rush Valley can’t be too far from here,” Ed says.  “But it’s definitely gonna be another few hours.”

“Okay, so we’ll be there around three or four o’ clock, you think?”  Heinkel asks.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Heinkel replies, opening the car door.  “I’m gonna go take a whiz real quick.”

“Oh, yeah, I need one too,” Darius says, opening the door in the back.

“Hey, easy,” Ed warns as Darius shifts him to laying flat.

“Greed, can you watch Ed while we’re gone?”  Darius asks.

“I can do that,” Greed answers, his eyes still half-closed.

Darius and Heinkel close the doors and start heading a ways up the road, leaving Greed and Ed alone in the car.

“Crazy stuff last night, huh?”  Greed jokes.

“Yeah.  Crazy.”

“Hope it didn’t traumatize you.”

“Heh … maybe a year ago, it would have,” Edward contends.  “But as it is, I’ve got enough ghosts in my head haunting me.  It is horrible though, what happened to Arthur Planinshek.  Not your fault, though.  You may have been the one to free him, but you didn’t kill him.”

“Ling’s idea,” Greed says, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Wouldn’t have even occurred to me.”

“Kind of funny, it reminds me of … a while ago, my brother and I went to visit a State Alchemist.  Shou Tucker, the Sewing-Life Alchemist.  He had a daughter named Nina.  He … turned her into a chimera.  Not one like Mr. Lion or Mr. Gorilla, she was … she was like Arthur, if that makes sense.  A shell of herself.  All wrong.  But it … it wasn’t long after we reported Tucker that Scar came, and he-he killed Tucker and Nina both.  It wasn’t like we had any pity for Tucker, but we were so angry with what he did to Nina -- she didn’t deserve to die, did she?  The next time we saw him, we told him that much.  And you know what he said?  Said what he’d done to her … it was mercy.  Otherwise, she would have spent the rest of her life locked in a cage in some government facility … suffering alone … he set her free.”

A long silence sits in the air following Edward’s last statement.  “Scar has done things -- terrible things -- to the people I care about.  Things that I can never, ever forgive him for.  But sometimes I wonder if it was right, what he did to Nina.  Why he had to…”  He trails off.

“Oh, no, he’s opening up to me,” Greed says to Ling, panicked.

“Say something intellectual,” Ling suggests.

“Alchemists can be pretty cruel, don’t you think?”  Greed quickly rejoins.  “All that power at their disposal … they use it to give and take away life.  It’s no wonder they have a reputation for ‘playing god’, I suppose.”

“That made no sense.”

“Speaking of which, when’s my next alchemy lesson?”

Edward makes a noise of discontentment.  “It’s not like I’ll be doing any alchemy anytime soon.  In case you haven’t noticed, I’m missing an arm, here.”

“I mean, I’ll be the one doing the alchemy, right?”  Greed asks.  “No big deal.”

“Well…”  Edward appears lost in thought for a moment.  “Actually, I want to try something really quick.  Can you switch out with Ling?”

“What?  No.”

“This has to do with you learning alchemy.  I promise.”

“Ugh … if you say so,” Greed shrugs.

“We miss anything?”  Darius opens the door to the backseat, with Heinkel following suit up front.  “Scoot in, Fullmetal.”

“I can’t exactly,” Edward grunts, trying to prop himself up on his arm.

“Hey, guys!”  Ling greets them.

“No way,” Darius says.  “Is that the prince?”

“Yup!”

“Good to have you back, Ling,” Heinkel grins, starting the ignition once again.  “Wanted to thank you for helping my sorry ass out yesterday.”

“It was no problem,” Ling replies.  “I’m proud of you, Heinkel!  I think you handled things very well.”

“Heh.”  The car begins to pick up speed as the countryside flies by them.

“Well, I guess I don’t want to keep Greed waiting too long,” Edward says.  “Basically, I just want to see if you’re able to perform alchemy, Ling.  I’m just kind of wondering if Greed being able to perform alchemy might be affected by your ability with it…”

“You think so?”  Ling asks.

“Yeah,” Edward says, running a hand through his hair.  “I’m sort of curious -- Greed said that the other homunculi never really did alchemy.  The fact that they’re not human might have something to do with it.  But most of the others aren’t, um, human-based homunculi, if I’m not mistaken.  So if you can do alchemy, Ling, Greed should be able to as well, right?”

“That makes sense!”  Ling says.  “Aaand as luck would have it, I do know one little trick with alkahestry.  You wanna see?”

“Um … sure!  I had no idea, since you said you didn’t know or care much about it,” Edward laughs.

“I’m full of surprises,” Ling jokes.  “Can you get me that piece of chalk and the screw you made, if you still have it?”

“Mr. Gorilla … can you get them out of my right pocket and pass them to him?”  Ed requests.

Darius manages to fish out a broken chalk half and the rock-hewn screw as Edward had asked, and places them roughly in Ling’s outstretched hands.

“Okay … check this out!”  Ling says as he begins to use the chalk to draw on the dashboard.

“Hey, are you drawing on…”  Heinkel begins, glancing over at Ling.  “Actually, I don’t care.”

“That looks wrong,” Greed points out.  “The way you’re drawing it.”

“In Xing, the circles are a little different,” Ling unintentionally says out loud.

“No, I mean the circle and the lines look sloppy.  You draw like a five year-old!”

“Is that supposed to be a transmutation circle?”  Darius says.  “It looks like shit.”

“Yeah,” Edward agrees.  “Ling, that’s not really--”

As Ling places the screw in the center of the circle, he presses his hands down on the dashboard, and the circle glows under it, sputtering and flickering on occasion as the screw changes form.

“Ta-da!”  Ling holds up the transformed screw(?) towards Ed, who uses his left arm to rip it out of Ling’s hand.  Once he has it, Darius leans over to look as well.

“Did it change at all?”  Darius asks.

“He … kind of made it flatter and longer, I think?” Edward observes.

“I was trying to turn it into a little horsey,” Ling says.  “But yeah, I can kind of do alkahestry!”

“Who the hell taught you alkahestry?”

“When I was ten, I had a tutor,” Ling explains.  “He really didn’t like me.  Said I was the worst student he ever had.  After two weeks, he refused to teach me anymore and walked out.  Pretty sure they exiled him for that.”

“...Oh.  Well, at least we know you can do alchemy, Ling.”

“But you should probably never do it again,” Darius sighs.

“You guys are mean to me, you know that?”  Ling scolds them.  “Guess if you don’t want me around, you can have Greed back.”

“Okay,” Ed says dismissively.  “Nice talking to you, Ling.”

“Sorry, kid, I’m on vacation here,” Greed says.  “ I’ll be back tonight.”

“You’re on vacation ?”

“Yeah, I’m swimming in the sea of lost souls.”

“Actually, never mind,” Ling says out loud.

“Okay,” Ed says dismissively.  “Welcome back, Ling.”

Chapter Text

“Can we please have Greed back?”  Darius asks, leaning his head into his elbow.

“Now you’re just being a jerk,” Ed argues.  “For all we know, Greed could get equally as--”

He cuts himself off to the sound of Ling heaving his guts out through the window.

“--Equally as carsick.”

“Hey, Greed was fine last night,” Darius argues.  “Ling started getting green around the gills an hour after we started driving with him!  It reeks in here!”

“I wasn’t planning to give this car back to Marcus in the first place,” Heinkel says, “But I would never give this car back to him now.”

“Ling’s puking his brains out right now!”  Ed protests.  “You don’t have to say that in front of him!”

Heinkel takes a hand off the wheel and pats Ling on the back with it.  “We’re almost in Rush Valley, kid.  I’ll find a place for us to park and we’ll get out and take a walk, okay?”

“Thank you…” Ling moans, his head hanging out the window.

True to Heinkel’s word, the now rocky and almost barren countryside soon becomes dotted with houses, shops, and high-rise buildings, and Ed manages to crack a smile when he sees the familiar “Rush Valley” sign fly over the head of the car.  With the sun beating down on them, Ed can’t help but remember his first visit to Rush Valley with Winry and Alphonse, and the joy that lit up Winry’s eyes as she strode through the boulevard, dragging the two of them behind her.

Ed finds himself absentmindedly looking around at the people and the shops, though he can’t quite put his finger on what it is he’s searching for.  Heinkel finds a place to park the car close to the main thoroughfare, doing his best to keep a supportive hand on Ling the whole time.

“You okay, little buddy?”  He asks.

Ling gulps.  “I’ll be fine, thank you.”  He turns his gaze out the window, looking at the busy street.  “Sure does bring back memories, doesn’t it, Ed?”

“What do you mean?”  Ed asks.

“Don’t you remember?”  Ling flashes him a weak smile.  “Rush Valley.  This is where we met for the first time!”

“Oh yeah,” Ed recalls.  “That’s right.”  How could he forget?  And it wasn’t even that long ago, either… 

“Let’s get you out of the car, Ling,” Heinkel suggests.  “We’ll walk and find someplace to eat.  Fullmetal, I know you can’t get up -- we’ll bring something back for you, okay?”

“Uh…”  Edward appears hesitant.  “If it’s not too much trouble, maybe Mr. Gorilla can carry me?  I want to get out, too.”

“I don’t blame you,” Darius says, stretching his arms a bit.  “Smells ripe in here.”

“You don’t think we’ll draw attention?”  Heinkel queries.

“Plenty of folks around here with automail problems,” Edward replies.  “Shouldn’t be too big a deal.”

Ling wobbles as he gets out of the car, retching a bit before collapsing on the ground.  Grumbling as he does so, Heinkel picks Ling up and slings him over his shoulder, and Darius does the same with Edward.

“I’m not the only one who thinks this looks like some kind of hostage situation, right?”  Darius points out, noticing all the people that are staring at them.

“God, you’re right,” Heinkel agrees, wrinkling his nose.  “We should find some place to sit them down as soon as possible.  Fullmetal, please tell me you know a restaurant around here or something—“

“There’s an outdoor cafe around that corner on the right,” Ling breathes, pointing in the direction he wants them to go.  “Really good clam chowder.”

“Count on you to know something like that,” Heinkel says, hefting Ling up as he continues along the road.  “You should’ve seen him last night, I thought he was going to eat Elena out of house and home.”

“That’s Ling for ya,” Ed laughs into Darius’s shoulder.  “The first time I met him, my brother found him collapsed in the alleyway—“

“Starving, I bet,” Darius says.

“You know me so well,” Ling smiles.

As they approach the cafe in question, the owner at the front looks at them with a bit of suspicion.

“Table for four,” Heinkel says.

“Are those boys alright?”  The owner asks, looking them up and down.  

“Long car ride,” Heinkel explains.

“Oo-kay, let’s get you seated, then,” the owner replies, grabbing a handful of menus out from his podium.  He leads them to a table just under the canopy, and Heinkel and Darius carefully place Ed and Ling down in the chairs before getting seated themselves.

“Hey,” the owner says, looking at Ed and Ling, “Didn’t you two come by here a couple months ago?  You and that guy with the huge suit of armor.”

Edward chuckles nervously.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about..?”

“No, yeah, I remember.  You almost destroyed half the town, too.”

“That wasn’t even me!”  Edward protests, glaring at Ling.  “It was—!”

“Oh my god, are you okay?!”  The owner is suddenly distracted by the wound on Heinkel’s shoulder.  “It-it looks like you’re bleeding!”

“Huh?”  Heinkel says, noticing it again as well.  “Well, I was.  That was a while ago.”

The table remains in stunned silence for a painfully long time.

“My sister shot me.”

“I want the honey-glazed onion rings, roasted potatoes with garlic aioli, three poached eggs in onion and pepper stew with kippers, boeuf bourguignon, blueberry flapjacks, and the apple tart,” Ling says, reading off the menu.

“I-I-I think you should see a doctor,” the owner says to Heinkel, completely ignoring Ling.

“Maybe we should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Darius whispers to Ed.

“You know what, fair enough,” Heinkel grunts, getting up.  “You must know where the nearest doctor is, then, I hope.”

“There’s an emergency clinic on Main Street, just off of where the train pulls in,” the owner tells him.  “I can get someone to escort you.”

“No need.”  Heinkel takes his wallet out of his coat pocket and hands it to Edward.  “Just get these boys some food, if you don’t mind.  I’ll try to be back in an hour.”

The owner stares with his mouth agape after Heinkel for some time, stunned.

“Do you want me to repeat my order?”  Ling asks. 

Snapping himself out of his reverie, the owner takes everyone’s orders and retreats inside the cafe, leaving Ed, Ling, and Darius alone.

“I’m a little nervous, getting split up from Heinkel again,” Darius confesses.  “You think I should go check on him?”

“At least this time he didn’t say he was quitting,” Ed responds.  “I’m sure he’ll be fine — let’s just wait for him.”

“What was that about you destroying half the town?”

“Okay, that wasn’t — that wasn’t my fault,” Edward stutters.  “What happened was that um, me and Alphonse were talking to Ling and he was, you know, going on about how he was from Xing and whatnot, he starts talking about how he’s trying to find the secrets of immortality and asking us about the philosopher’s stone.  He was trying to force information out of us, and next thing I knew he sicced his bodyguards on us!”

“You’re telling me the prince already has a bunch of bodyguards?”  Darius exclaims, turning to look at Ling.  “How come I never heard about them?  Where are they, anyways?”

“I don’t know.”  Ling puts his head down on the table, his expression somber.

“Lan Fan and Fu, those are his bodyguards,” Edward tells Darius.  “They work for the Yao clan.  We were with them in Central about a month ago, but, uh … they went their separate ways.  They don’t want to be found right now.”

“They didn’t say anything about where they were going?”  Darius asks.

“Well…”  Edward thinks for a moment.  “Now that I think about it, they were looking for a—“

“Hey there, Fullmetal Alchemist!”  A cheerful voice calls out.

“GAH!”  Edward looks around frantically for the source of the voice, finally discovering it as he cranes his neck behind him.  Standing there is Paninya, grinning from ear to ear as she dangles his silver pocketwatch above him.

“You should keep this in a safer place, you know,” she smirks.

“Paninya, you—!  How did—!  Would you keep your voice down?!  Give me that!”  Edward makes a few snatches for the pocketwatch, but she pulls it just out of reach each and every time.

“You might have to catch me first,” Paninya grins, taking a step back tauntingly.  Edward makes a whining noise in desperation.

“Paninya, come on, I can’t walk—!”

Darius lunges forward, grabbing Paninya’s wrist and causing her to drop the pocketwatch in surprise.

“Hey, it was just a joke,” Paninya laughs nervously.  “I don’t do that anymore, remember?”

“Well, I’d prefer if you didn’t go announcing my identity to the whole city,” Edward hisses as Darius picks up the pocketwatch and returns it to him.

“What’s the problem?”

“Just don’t, okay?”  Edward says, glaring at her.

“Geez, sorry, Edward,” Paninya apologizes.  “Hey, let me make it up to you.  I’ll pay for your lunch.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” Edward replies.  “You don’t have to feel obligated.”

“I insist,” she says, sitting down in Heinkel’s seat.  “I have cash to burn — I’m making an honest living now, y’know?”

“Well, you might wanna wait till you see the bill before you make any—“

“Paninya, you’re not harassing my customers, are you?”  The owner calls as he comes outside, pulling a large cart of dishes behind him.

“It’s all good,” Ed says, holding up a hand.  Ling, who’d been sitting so still he’d almost seemed dead, springs to life as soon as the flapjacks are placed in front of him and begins digging in immediately.

“Take it slow, Ling,” Darius says through his teeth, “We don’t want you puking all over the table.  So, uh, Paninya, I’m guessing you’re a … friend of Ed’s?”

“Former enemy,” Ed clarifies.  “We’re acquainted, at least.”

“His mechanic is a good friend of mine,” Paninya adds.  “Winry Rockbell.  Is she here with you, Edward?”

Edward’s expression drops a bit.  “N…no.  I don’t know where she is, exactly, but I think she’s somewhere safe.”

“Somewhere safe?”  Paninya sinks back into her seat.  “Funny, she wasn’t even here that long, but … it’s not the same without her around.  Everyone misses her.  You know she was one of the best mechanics in the Valley, right?”

Ed cracks a smile.  “She was, wasn’t she.”

“Yeah … her craftsmanship was amazing.  Customers raved about her.  Mr. Dominic would even come into town to visit her, sometimes.  He wanted her to do a tune-up on my legs, once, for practice, and she got it perfect.  That reminds me — is that why you’re here in the Valley, Edward?  Your automail’s getting fixed?”

“That’s part of it,” Edward admits.  “As you can see, my arm’s off.  My leg’s a little messed up, too.  Once we’re done eating, I need to find someone to fix me up.”

“How about Mr. Dominic?”  Paninya suggests.  “He’s the best at it, you know.  I can get you over there.”

“That would be great, actually,” Edward smiles.  “Thank you!”

“My pleasure!”  Paninya replies.  “Sooo, are you gonna eat your omelette, or..?”

Edward shoos Paninya off of his food as he and Darius start to dig in themselves, and she ends up mooching off of Ling’s dish of onion rings while he’s not paying attention to it.  When the owner comes back with the bill, however, she appears to be a bit less enthused.

“Uh…”  Paninya squints at the bottom of the bill.  “That’s a lot of zeroes.”

“Told you to wait before you saw the bill,” Edward sighs.

“I don’t even have enough money on me to cover all of this…”

“It’s fine, we can split it,” Edward replies, taking out his own wallet.

“Works for me.  I have just enough to pay half, anyways.”

“Uh…” After Edward places down all the money in his own wallet, he gets out the money from Heinkel’s wallet.  “Okay … Mr. Gorilla, do you have any money on you?”

“I thought you and Heinkel were the only ones carrying money,” Darius answers.  “Ling?”

“Nope, nothing on me,” says Ling.  “But Greed says you should let him carry all the money in the future, by the way.”

“As if,” Ed scoffs.  “I don’t believe this!  There’s not enough money between us to cover the bill.  And we took a ton out of my account in North City…”

“A lot of that went to your medical bill, remember?”  Darius points out.  “We had to spend on food and rations.  That room at the inn near the train station, and the one in Worcester … that was a waste…”

“Did Mrs. Planinshek make you pay for the food you had at the inn, Ling?”

“She let me eat for free,” Ling smiles.  “Such a nice lady.”

“How short are you?”  The owner asks, looming over them.

Edward starts violently.  “What did you just--”

“About 800 cens, right?”  Darius says, glancing the bill over himself.

“Good grief,” the owner says, scratching his head.  “I can let you guys open a tab and pay me back later, if you’re staying in town.”

“Your prices are too high, old man!”  Paninya retorts.

“What do you think this is, a charity?”  The owner grumbles.  “I’ll just take what you can pay and we’ll call it square, okay?”

“That’s fine,” Edward says, passing the money over.  Satisfied, the owner finishes cleaning up and goes over to the next table.

“So, we’re broke,” Darius announces, a bit redundantly.

“Shit,” Edward says, putting his head in his hand.  “I’m not super crazy about the idea of making another withdrawal -- I’m pretty sure that’s why the military was onto us the last time.  It’s not like I can really pay for a mechanic, either.”

“Ah … sorry, Ed,” Ling says, appearing apologetic.

“It’s not your fault,” Ed answers.  “Wouldn’t have been able to pay with the money we had before this anyways.”

“Sorry, you guys are on the lam?  Am I hearing that right?”  Paninya says in a hushed tone.

“Like I said, keep it to yourself--”

“No, no, I’m not a snitch,” Paninya insists.  “Seriously, I owe it to Winry.  We can put you up at Mr. Dominic’s, honestly, don’t worry about it.”

“I see you didn’t save my seat.”  Heinkel approaches the table wearing a new white shirt, his old clothes folded under his arm and a bandage around his shoulder.  “Who’s the girl?”

------------

Edward manages to introduce his companions and explain the gist of the situation to Paninya as they make their way to Dominic’s home on the outskirts of the city.  The LeCoultes seem happy enough to see Edward again (or, in Dominic’s case, as happy as he can muster), and Dominic himself wastes no time in taking a look at Edward’s automail.

“I see you damaged the nerve endings in your legs,” Dominic notes, peering down at the mechanism connected to Edward’s leg.  “Did you seriously try to walk on this thing while it wasn’t secured in place?”

“In my defense, I was drugged at the time,” Ed replies.

“We weren’t exactly in the safest place to be laying down right then, either,” Darius adds.

“Well, let’s give it a week or two to heal up,” Dominic suggests.  “I’m going to separate the leg for now; you’re not gonna be walking on it anytime soon, anyways.  We have a wheelchair you can use in the back if you need to get around in the meantime.  Fortunately, it shouldn’t take long for me to reconnect the arm -- hell, I’ll finish that before dinner.”

“Thank you so much, sir,” Ed says.  “I’m sorry I don’t have anything to pay you with yet, but--”

“Ugh, don’t turn into Paninya,” Dominic grunts.  “Gave her those legs ten years ago and she still won’t leave me alone, trying to pay me back.  Consider it returning the favor -- you did help deliver my grandson, after all.”

“Fair enough,” Ed grins.

“As for the rest of you…” Dominic turns to look at Edward’s companions, who are all crowded into his workshop.  “Take a goddamn shower.  You all smell like vomit and piss.”

“We’ll be having dinner in a few hours,” Ridel calls from the doorway.  “You’re, uh, all free to join us when you’re done!”

“That reminds me…” As all the others start to head out of the room, Ed grabs at Ling’s arm.  “I have a request.”

“What’s up, Ed?”

“Please switch with Greed,” Ed pleads.  “No offense.  It’s nice enough that the LeCoultes are fixing me up and letting us stay with them, but I don’t want you eating up all their food, okay?”

“Aww, you missed me that much?”  Greed smiles.

“Took you long enough,” Ed scolds him.  “Where the hell were you when Mr. Lion and Mr. Gorilla wanted you to come back?”

“Just needed to hear it from everybody.  ‘We want you back, Greed.’”

“You have some ego, you know that?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Greed says, taking Ed’s arm off of him.  “Gonna go take a shower.  See ya at dinner.”

Ed doesn’t have to wait long for Dominic to return, and as soon as he does he gets to work reconnecting Ed’s arm, only taking a couple hours to adjust and fine-tune it in addition.

“This is a different material than the kind you had the last time you visited me,” Dominic observes.  “Alloy.  Stronger material, definitely.  You got these up north?”

“Yeah, it’s different from what I’m used to,” Ed admits. “But I actually like it a lot better.  Lighter and sturdier.”

“Still Little Miss Rockbell’s craftsmanship, I can tell.  How is that girl doing, anyways?”

“Haven’t seen her in a while,” Edward replies.  “But I’m sure she’s doing alright.”

“Mmh.”  Dominic carefully examines the wrist on Ed’s automail.  “Well, you’d better find her soon.  You’re going to need to get this adjusted in a few months.”

“Uh, why can’t I come to you?”

“It’s not my automail,” Dominic says.  “I can fix it up a little bit, but Miss Rockbell and I have very different craftsmanship, different ways of doing things.  I could really mess it up if I go tampering with it.  But it’s going to be difficult going forward without her help — it looks like you’re starting a little growth spurt.”

Ed immediately perks up.  “Growth spurt?”

“Least, it looks like it.  See how your arm’s a little shorter on the right, here?  Either you’re growing, or Ms. Rockbell’s not as good a mechanic as I’ve been giving her credit for.  Probably won’t be a big deal if it’s just an inch or two, but you’re really gonna need it for anything more than that.”

“So … I’m getting taller, then?”  Ed says hopefully.  Giddily, he briefly imagines himself boasting a height of over six feet, towering over Greed and even standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Darius and Heinkel.

“Don’t look so happy about it,” Dominic grunts.  “Like I said, it’s gonna be a hassle.”

Despite Dominic’s argument, Edward soon finds himself lost in his thoughts of growing taller, and it’s only when Ridel walks in again that Edward shifts his attention away.

“Dinner’s ready,” he calls.  “Come join us!  Let me help you into the chair, Edward.”

As Ridel and Dominic move Edward to the wheelchair and cart him out of the room, they make their way over to the dining room, where Ed’s companions are already seated, as well as Paninya, Ridel’s wife Satella, and their baby.

“Nice of you to join us,” Satella calls to them as they enter.

“Glad to be here,” Ed replies as he joins them at the table, which is laden with chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, and fruit salad.  “This looks amazing, did you make it?”

“With Ridel and Paninya’s help,” Satella smiles, rocking her child a bit in her arms.

“Oh, right, that’s your son, isn’t it?”  Edward grins.  “He looks happy.”

“Cute little guy, huh?”  Greed, who is sitting next to Satella, dangles a finger in front of the baby, seeming delighted when the newborn grabs onto it.

“You can’t have the baby, Greed,” Heinkel says.  Though it was in a joking manner, Satella instinctively pulls her son away from Greed, casting a worried glance at him.

“What the hell?  Geez, I’m not gonna steal a baby!  What’s wrong with you?”

“Can’t be too careful,” Darius warns.

“So what did you end up naming the little guy?”  Ed asks, looking at the baby happily.

“His name is Arthur!” Satella beams.

The table suddenly becomes very quiet.

“...Awesome!”  Edward says finally.  “Great.  That’s a great name.”

“Great name,” Darius repeats.

“I would never steal a baby named Arthur,” Greed insists.

“You shouldn’t be stealing babies at all, you monster,” Heinkel scowls.

“I also wanted to thank you for putting all of us up here to sleep and everything,” Edward cuts in, quickly changing the topic.  “Are you sure you have enough beds for all of us?”

“Hah.  No,” Dominic answers.  “You’ll be getting the guest bedroom, Edward, but your friends are sleeping in the living room.  The smaller guy can have the couch.”

“Oh, yeah, that reminds me,” Paninya says, “I thought his name was Ling, right?”

“Ling is the other guy,” Greed says.  “My name’s Greed.”

“Wait, what?  I’m confused.”

“Greed, you can’t just go around telling people that -- ugh.”  Ed pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Sorry, it’s kind of weird and hard to explain…”

“Eh, I’ve heard some pretty weird stuff,” Dominic shrugs.  “Tell us anyways.”

“I’m a homunculus--”

“Greed is a homunculus, which is an artificially-made person,” Ed begins to explain.  “As his name suggests he’s uh, greedy.  Wants a lot of stuff.  Which is what the whole thing with the baby was about.  Not that Greed would steal a baby, I don’t think?  Ling is a regular person, but, uh, so--”

“He let me have his body--”

“They’re sort of stuck together in the same body, if that makes sense.”

Satella scoots farther away from Greed.

“No, you’re right, that is pretty weird,” Dominic agrees.

“Wait, that’s actually kind of cool,” Paninya says.  “So you’re an artificially-made person?  How were you made?”

“I was created from a philosopher’s stone,” Greed explains, leaning in to talk to Paninya.  “Well, sort of, at least.  The stone itself came from my pops, it was kind of a part of him before he created me.”

“Oh, I gotcha,” Paninya nods.  “So are there any others like you?”

“Yeah, I have siblings, uh, Envy, Sloth, Gluttony … Lust is dead…”

“Oh, so they’re all after the Seven Deadly Sins.  So they all kind of have the same deal as you?  Envy is really jealous, Sloth is really lazy?”

“Some more so than others, I guess,” Greed shrugs.  “Depends.  We’re sort of the pieces of our Father’s soul that he cast out of himself to make him a more perfect being.  I feel like some of ‘em are kind of ashamed of it, so they don’t show it as much.  Not me, though!  I’m greedy as hell to spite my old man.”

Edward blinks in surprise.  He hadn’t really thought about it before, but it is true that Greed seems more obsessed with living up to his name than he’d noticed from some of the other homunculi.

“Oh, I was gonna say, are you sure there aren’t any other homunculi around?”  Paninya replies.  “‘Cause Ling might secretly be Gluttony or something.”

Greed snorts, then bursts out laughing, tears forming in his eyes.  “Oh man, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day!”  He starts laughing some more, and Edward and Darius can’t help but join in a bit.  “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“Glad someone around here thinks so,” Paninya grins.  “I can never get Mr. Dominic to laugh.  He’s my regular captive audience.”

“Eh, you’ve heard it once, you’ve heard it all before,” Dominic says.  “Why don’t you eat your chicken before it gets cold, Paninya?”

-------------------

After dinner, Ridel and Dominic take Edward to the bathroom to help him wash up, and Greed spends some time chatting with Paninya while Darius and Heinkel help with the dishes.  Once everyone’s cleaned up, Paninya bids everyone farewell and heads back to her apartment, and many of them lounge around in the living room as Satella feeds Arthur formula from his bottle.

“Paninya’s pretty cool, huh?”  Ling says to Greed.

“You’re telling me,” Greed agrees.  “Great kid.  I had no idea she knew so much about pickpocketing!  That’s probably not a bad way to get rich around here, huh?”

“And she exposed my identity as a homunculus,” Ling sighs.

“Yeah, wait till she finds out about Ed.”

“Hey, Greed,” Darius says from behind him, causing Greed to jump a bit.

“Shit.”  Greed whips his head around, seeing that Darius and Ed have elected to take a seat next to him.  “You startled me.  What’s up?”

“Guessing you’re not planning to switch out with Ling anytime soon--”

“Got that right.”

“--But we just wanted to say sorry if we were a little hard on him this afternoon,” Darius finishes.

“Aww, you guys,” Ling says fondly.

“Eh, I don’t think he’s too beat up over it,” Greed tells Darius.  “And I’m sure he’s sorry anyways about stinkin’ up the car and running your wallets into the ground.”

“Well, you can’t just put words in my mouth.”

“We’ll make up for it somehow,” Darius shrugs.  “We’ll rob a bank or something.”

“Oh yeah, I was gonna ask,” Greed says, “How’s your arm, Ed?  All better?”

“Yeah, why?”  Ed asks.

“Just asking,” he answers.  “I dunno, you seemed kinda sad.”

“It’s nothing, just…”  Edward puts his hand to his neck.  “Heh.  It’s kind of funny.  I was almost hoping I’d find Winry here, when we came to Rush Valley.  Guess I should’ve known she’d be smarter than to turn up here.”

“That girl might still be up north,” Darius says.  “That is where you got split up from everyone, right?  I’m sure it won’t be an easy time for the military to find them.”

“Yeah, I hope they’re all okay,” Edward says, leaning forward.  “Winry.  Alphonse.  Major Miles.  Doctor Marcoh.”

“We really got you off track from reuniting with them, huh?”  Darius asks.  “It’s what you were trying to do before you got into that whole mess with Kimblee.  And then us dragging you off to a doctor.  And now I guess we’re on this trip headed south, huh.”

“You’re fine.  At least they managed to get away,” Ed corrects him.  “It’s probably better this way -- harder for them to catch all of us when we’re split up like this, you know.  What about you?  I bet you miss those other chimeras.  Jerso and Zampano?”

Darius bursts out laughing.  “What, do you think we’re all buddies just because we’re chimeras?  I only met Jerso and Zampano and Heinkel for the first time when we were assigned to Kimblee.  Pretty sure I told you that.”

“Huh.”  Ed looks across the room at Heinkel, who appears to be deep in conversation with Ridel and Satella.  “Think it’s the same for Heinkel?  Guess we still don’t know how he got to be a chimera, anyways.”

“He fought in some border war,” Greed pipes up.  “Got injured there and they brought him back to Central to experiment on him.  Guess that’s not uncommon for a lot of them.”

“Sounds like you know a thing or two about it,” Ed says, turning to look at Greed.

“Well, uh -- yeah, uh … Heinkel told Ling about it,” Greed stammers.

“So he opened up to Ling about it?”  Darius asks.

“Little brat really has a way with people.”

“What about you, Greed?”  Ed asks.  “You miss anybody?”

“Do I miss anybody?”  Greed repeats.  “Hmm.  I don’t think so!  Nobody to miss.  It’s not like I’m on great terms with my family or anything.  Right now, you guys are all I’ve got.”

“Was that a lie, Greed?”  Ling asks.

“Of course not,” Greed shoots back.  “I never lie.”

“Then I guess you’re not being honest with yourself,” Ling says.  “Because there is someone you miss, isn’t there.”

“I -- shut up,” Greed snaps.  “That doesn’t count and you know it.  So why don’t you zip it, because you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

Ling doesn’t respond, and neither Edward nor Darius speak to Greed any further, so he remains silent for the rest of the night.

-----------------------------

The gunshot that rings out can be heard for miles around as it echoes throughout the rocky canyon.  Though many of the folks in Rush Valley are used to hearing it, Greed is completely in awe when he sees it with his own eyes.

“Guns?  In your legs?”

“And that’s not all,” Paninya grins.  As she lowers one leg and lifts the other, the knee joint rotates to switch out with a wickedly sharp blade.

“That’s gotta be one of the coolest things I've ever seen,” Greed says, putting a hand to his forehead in disbelief.  “You know, this is one of the few times where I’ve wished I was a human.  I want cool gun legs so bad now…”

“It’s a whole process, you know,” Paninya tells him.  “Can’t say it was fun losing my legs in a train crash.  Took me three years to literally get back on my feet again.  I bet there are some folks around here who cut off their own limbs on purpose and replace ‘em with automail, anyways -- it’s Rush Valley, after all.  Although, I’m not sure why being a homunculus would prevent you from having automail.”

Greed rolls up his sleeve.  “Try to cut my arm off.”

“What?”  Paninya seems taken aback.  “I just want to say for the record, the people who cut their limbs off on purpose are sort of wackos.”

“No, really,” Greed insists.  “See if you can cut my arm off.  Give it your best shot.”

Paninya breathes out through her nose, seeming a bit wary.  At last, she thrusts her knee forward towards Greed’s exposed forearm, severing it clean off with the blade.  Yelling in surprise as Greed’s arm hits the ground, Paninya retracts the mechanism in her leg, staggering backwards.  Shortly after, she is even more surprised to watch the severed arm disintegrate while the stump on Greed’s body regenerates into a fully-formed arm.

“Ya see?”  Greed pats his arm before rolling the sleeve back up.  “No room on this body for automail.  Anytime I’m wounded it heals me right back up.  It’s almost impossible to kill me.”

Paninya whistles.  “Maybe it’s not as cool to you, but I think that’s way cooler than having gun legs.”

“You hearing yourself?  Gun legs are way cooler than what I got.”

“Whatever you say,” Paninya shrugs.  “Is that your only trick, then?”

“I have another,” Greed says, holding a finger up.  “Shoot me in the chest!”

Without hesitation this time, Paninya extends the gun mechanism out of her leg and aims square into Greed’s chest.  The bullet ricochets off of him, and shortly after the Ultimate Shield crawls to Greed’s hand and neck as well.

“This is my Ultimate Shield,” Greed says, holding up a clawed hand.  “Absolutely nothing can pierce it.”

“Does it go everywhere except your face?”  Paninya asks.

“Goes there, too, but I don’t like to ruin my good looks,” Greed laments.  “Not if I can help it.  That’s my only other little trick, though.”

“Okay, okay,” Paninya laughs.  “You seem like you’d be fun to take on in a fight, though!  We should spar sometime!”

“Oh, I’m flattered!”  Greed snickers.  “Sorry, but I don’t fight girls.”

Paninya’s face drops.  “...Huh?”

“No offense.”

“Uh…”  Paninya now seems a bit uncomfortable.  “Sorry, hold on.  You’re not … sexist, are you?  Or what, you’re afraid of getting beat up by a girl?”

“What!  No, I’m not sexist at all!”  Greed jumps to defend himself.  “I think tough girls like you are great!  I just think … sorry, I’m old-fashioned -- two hundred year-old man -- I just think it’s such an ugly thing for a man to hurt a woman, you know?  Just seems so hateful.  Makes me sick.  I could never do it.”

“Uh … if you say so,” Paninya responds.  “Sorry, did you say you were two hundred years old?  I thought you were like my age.”

“Well, the prince probably is,” Greed says, jabbing a finger towards his chest.  “He’s, uh … eighteen, I think?”

“Fifteen.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, that explains it a little,” Paninya chuckles.  “You’re a freaking grandpa!”

“What!”  Greed acts completely offended.  “Do I seem like a grandpa to you?!”

“You sure act like one!”

“No, I don’t!  Ling, do I act like a grandpa?”

“No.  You’re just very immature for your age.”

“Listen, you.”

“What’d he say?”  Paninya laughs.

“Kid says I’m--”

“You guys aren’t killing each other out here, are you?”

Edward holds the door open to the house, stiffly taking a few steps out the door barefoot.  “Nobody’s injured?”

“We’re just messing around,” Paninya reassures him.  “Hey, did you just get your leg reattached?”

“Can’t believe it’s already been two weeks,” Greed says.

“Got it reattached a couple hours ago,” Ed talks over Greed.  “Dominic wanted me to walk around and test it out a little.  It’s been a while since I’ve been able to walk, anyways.”

“So you’re back in action,” Greed responds.  “Sorry if this is a random question, by the way, but can you do feet alchemy?  You clap your feet together to do alchemy?”

Edward stares at Greed for a long time.  “What prompted that?”

“I was thinking about that time I was trying to get you to teach me alchemy and you said you couldn’t cause you didn’t have an arm.”

“...Okay.  Actually, you know what, do you want another alchemy lesson, Greed?”

“Oh, are you offering?”

“I’m in a generous mood today,” Edward replies, beckoning at the door.  “Come inside, my pupil.”

Greed begins walking back towards the house, and Paninya follows him, saying, “Hey Edward, did you know Greed is two hundred years old?”

“That would explain a lot about him,” Ed replies.  “Old geezer.”

“Watch it.”

As they enter the house, the three of them can hear Darius, Heinkel, and Satella’s voices in the kitchen, while Dominic and Ridel are just visible from the open door to the workshop.  Edward gestures for Greed to sit in the armchair across from the sofa, so that they’re facing across from one another over the table.  Edward picks up a loose piece of drafting paper and a pen from the side table and places it before them, drawing a simple transmutation circle on top of it.

“So we know Ling is definitely able to use alchemy, at least,” Edward says as he continues to sketch out the circle.  “So you should be able to transmute for yourself, too.”

“Does Ling being bad at it mean my alchemy’s gonna suck?”

“Ling’s skill level shouldn’t affect your own.”  Edward takes the “screw” out of his pocket and drops it in the center of the circle.  “I want you to try and transmute this back into a rock.  Remember, you’re visualizing the current composition of the object and how it will change into its new structure.  Got it?”

“Yessir.”  Greed takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, forming a clear image in his head of the screw changing form back into a rock.  Tentatively, he presses his hands down to the transmutation circle.

Nothing happens.

“You didn’t think of changing it, did you,” Edward says dryly.

“I did,” Greed replies, his tone completely serious.  “No, I really tried what you said.  I’m telling the truth.”  As if to further illustrate his point, he attempts to transmute again, but to no avail.

“Are we sure he’s not just really bad at it?”  Paninya snipes him.

“Would you lay off?”  Greed says, sounding more and more frustrated.  “No, like I get it.  Equivalent exchange.  In order to obtain, something of equal value given.  Put in one thing to make something better, but it’s still—“  Again and again, he tries to transmute the circle.  “Am I just too stupid to do this?”

“You’re not affecting the circle at all,” Ed mutters.  “Greed, maybe … I’m sorry, if you’re really doing everything that you’re supposed to do, maybe you really just can’t perform alchemy.”

Greed stops in the middle of another attempt, slowly leaning back in his chair.  “So do you think that’s it?  It’s ‘cause I’m a homunculus, isn’t it?”

“I mean, that can’t be all of it,” Ed says.  “Your Father can use alchemy … why wouldn’t you be able to use alchemy..?”

“Sorry, Greed,” Ling apologizes.  “Maybe it is because I’m so terrible at it.”

“Nah, that’s not it…”

“You doodling on my drafting paper, Edward?”  Dominic asks as he enters the room with Ridel.

“Just practicing alchemy,” Ed answers.  “Sorry, I hope that’s okay.”

“No worries,” Ridel reassures him.  “We’ve got a lot of that stuff lying around, anyways.”

“How’s that leg treating you?”  Dominic queries.

“Good as new,” Ed says, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Not like it needed fixing or anything,” Dominic says.  “I just reconnected the nerves.”

“Guess I’ll be out of your hair soon then, huh?  We’ll try to be out of here by—“

“Woah, woah, woah,” Dominic interrupts.  “You can’t just go running around getting yourself killed just because your leg’s back on.  You need another few days to adjust, kid.  A week at the most.”

“I don’t want to outstay our welcome,” Ed argues.  “You’ve already let us eat and sleep here for two weeks, free of charge…”

“And I’ll make you stay another two if you don’t quit yapping.”

“You’ve got a lot of spirit, wanting to go out into the world again so soon,” Ridel laughs.  “Reminds me of that girl we had here before, a few weeks before you showed up.  She wanted a new arm straight away — and you know how it takes at least a few years to adjust to living with automail, right?  She wanted to do it in half a year.  We tried to convince her otherwise, but, in two weeks we outfitted her with the most compatible arm we had ready, then she just took off.”

“Don’t remind me,” Dominic seethes.  “Damn idiot.”

“Greed, ask them what she looked like,” Ling suddenly orders him.  “Ask them what she was like.”

“Sounds like some girl.  If you don’t mind me asking, what’d she look like?”

“Xingese girl,” Dominic describes.  “Long black hair.  It was her left arm that was missing.  She was with an old man about my age—“

“Lan Fan and Fu.  They were here.”

Ed turns to him in surprise.  “Ling?”

Ling stands up abruptly.  “Where did they go?  Could they have gone far?”

“Hey, take it easy,” Dominic says.  “They didn’t say a word about where they were going — took off in the dead of night.  Didn’t seem to want to stay in one place for too long.  That was a month ago already … I at least hope they didn’t make it too far from here, since adjusting to that arm while traveling is gonna be hell — and where are you going?”

Ling is already halfway out the door.  “If she’s still around here, I need to find her!”

“Ling, what are you doing?”  Edward calls.  “Get back here!”

Paying little heed to Edward as he slams the door shut behind him, Ling begins running for the town.

“No, seriously, what are you doing?”  Greed repeats.  “You heard what the old man said—“

“She was here, Greed,” Ling says aloud.  “They were here!  I need to find where they went!”

“Slow down, Ling!  How are you even gonna do that?!”

Ling ignores him, racing ahead and stopping at certain points to feel the ground before moving on.  Greed is perplexed at first until he recalls how Ling had done something similar before he’d found Heinkel on the outskirts of Worcester.  This time, however, Ling is in the middle of a throng of people, frantically looking this way and that.

“Okay, let’s say you do find her — I don’t know how — what if she’s all the way on the other side of the country or something?  Are you really just gonna run off by yourself and ditch everybody?”

Ling pushes through the crowd, earning a few glares from the passerby.

“You remember what Ed said, don’t you?  She doesn’t want to be found right now.”

Past the cafe, past the automail shops, past the alleyway, to the main thoroughfare.

“You could be putting her in more danger if you’re not careful.  Draw unwanted attention to her —“

“It’s always what you want, isn’t it, Greed?”  Ling snaps, continuing to stagger through the street as he starts running out of breath.  “I can’t just abandon her, don’t you get that?  How can I after she sacrificed her arm for me?  How can I abandon either of them?  I’m not you, Greed.  I can’t just turn my back on the people I care about.  My clan … my family.”

“What do you mean, it’s always what I want?  This is one of the few times I’m actually trying to help you, you know that?”

“You’re not,” Ling seethes.  “You just don’t want to be taken off course from your road trip to Dublith, right?  What are you hoping to find there, anyways?  What you’re trying to do isn’t any different than what I’m doing right now.”

“How so?”

“Wasting time.”  Ling finally reaches the lot where Heinkel had moved the car to, resting a hand on the vehicle.  “Yeah, I have no idea where they are.  I can’t sense their chi anywhere nearby.”

“So … wait, does that mean you give up?”

Ling nods, sitting down against the side of the car.  Greed considers wresting control from him for a moment, but decides against it.

“Hey.  Look.  Uh … I’m not the best at this whole comforting thing, but … this is not the end of the world, Ling.  You’re going to see this girl again.  Just not soon.  And you know what I think?  When she’s ready, she’ll find you.  She’ll come to you.  And when she does, I hope she has a cool gun arm.”

“Hah … thank you.”  Ling looks up towards the sky.  “Though, is your dignity really that low that you’re comforting me after I’ve insulted you?”

“Isn’t that kind of what you’ve been doing for me?”

“Touché.”

"Some attitude, though, lecturing me for turning my back on my family when you know full well what they’re like.”

“I wasn’t talking about the other homunculi.”

“Huh—?”

“Ling!”  Edward rounds the corner into the lot, followed closely behind by Darius, Heinkel, and Paninya.  As soon as he reaches him, he takes a fist and knocks Ling in the head with it.

“Ow.”

“You selfish jerk,” Ed scolds him.  “Making me run across town to find you right after I get my leg back.”

“Harsh, Ed,” Ling groans.  “You didn’t have to come after me, though.”

“I kinda did,” Edward retorts.  “In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been sort of having this problem lately with members of the group suddenly ditching for personal reasons.  My money’s on Mr. Gorilla next, to be honest.”

“Well, even if I was, now I’m not going to do it to spite you,” Darius shoots back.

“My point is we need to stick together, alright?  We can’t just go running off and splitting up without communicating.  We’re all smart enough to act like adults here, so we can resolve any issues we have like adults.  Agreed?”

“You saying I don’t act like an adult?”  Heinkel says.

“No need to worry,” Ling reassures them.  “Greed already talked me down, anyways.  Sorry, guys, I got carried away.”

“Hmph.”  Ed sinks down next to Ling.  “You know, it’s funny — a couple weeks ago, we were talking about the people we missed … but I never asked you, because I already knew.  That you missed Lan Fan and Fu, I mean.”

“Right,” Ling affirms.

“I have people I miss too, Ling,” Ed says.  “But now’s not the time for me to chase after them, either.  We have more pressing matters on hand.  Like going to Dublith because Greed kind of wants to and he’s our boss.”

“That’s the spirit!”  Greed says, suddenly regaining control.  “Although, I guess we still have another week here since you need to recover, Ed.”

“That’s true,” Ed agrees.  “Oh — wait!  We never asked Mr. Lion if there was anybody he missed.”

“Is there anybody you miss, Heinkel?”  Darius asks.

“Huh?”  Heinkel thinks for a moment.  “I guess there aren’t very many people in my life that I would have reason to miss, but I suppose if I had to choose, maybe my parents.”

“Uhh, uh, dead people don’t count,” Greed blurts out suddenly.

“Uhh, uh, I’m gonna snap your neck off, Greed,” Heinkel says mockingly.

—————

Once Dominic is satisfied with Edward’s recovery, he, his family, and Paninya come to the car to see them off.  Ridel and Satella had insisted on packing food for them, so the four would hopefully be set for the remainder of their journey to Dublith.

“I’m surprised nobody sent to get the car back,” Darius says.

“I think I did a pretty good job hiding it,” Heinkel boasts.  “Can’t say many people go into this lot.”

“Coulda had me change its appearance again,” Ed points out.

“Please, no.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to the house being a little quieter,” Dominic says, folding his arms.  “You wouldn’t believe how much you all snore.”

“Aww, I’ll miss you guys,” Paninya smiles.  “Wish you could stay longer.”

“I know,” Greed sighs.  “But even I know we shouldn’t outstay our welcome … hey, you could come along with us, though!  How about we steal Paninya, huh?”

“Haha, I hope that was a joke, Greed,” Paninya laughs nervously.  “As fun as it sounds to run around and play fugitive with you, I do have a job that I need to get back to.  Come visit me if you’re ever back in town, though!”

“I’ll do my best,” Greed says, spreading his arms out.  “Come on, bring it in.”

Paninya accepts the hug.  “I’ll miss ya, baby stealer.”

“Arthur, can you say bye-bye?”  Satella coos, hoisting up her newborn.  Arthur, who is only a few months old, is not able to say “bye-bye” quite yet and remains silent.

Once all the farewells have been relayed, the four members of the group pile into the car, this time with Heinkel and Darius in the front seats while Ed and Greed sit in the back.  Before long, they begin driving through to the other side of the valley.  In vain, still, Edward stares out the window the whole time as though he’ll finally catch a glimpse of Winry.

Chapter Text

“Two sevens,” Ed says, putting the cards on the pile.

“One eight,” Darius contributes.  He is twisted around to face Greed and Ed in the back, the card pile shaking slightly in the space between Greed and Ed as the car drives over a rocky patch of land.

“Cheat!”  Ed calls out.

“What are you, holding all the eights?”  Darius grumbles as he takes all the cards from the pile.

“Two nines,” Greed says, renewing the pile.

“One ten,” Ed says, throwing a card down.

“Two jacks,” says Darius.

“Uh…” Greed looks through the cards in his hand.  “I don’t have any queens to put down, so I guess I’ll skip?”

“No, you have to put something down, Greed,” Ed tells him.

“But this turn is queens.  I don’t have any.”

“You’re supposed to bluff,” Darius replies.  “That’s the whole point.  You don’t have any queens, you put down some cards from your hand and just say they’re queens.”

“Why the hell would I lie about that?”  Greed asks.  “You guys already know I don’t have any.”

“That’s — you have to put something down every turn,” Ed says.  “And if you don’t have any cards of the value you pretend you do.  It’s not really that complicated.  And then we call you out if we think you’re lying.”

“What if I don’t want to lie?  Have you ever considered that?”  Greed says in an accusatory manner.

“Then you have no chance of winning?”  

“Okay, whatever.  I don’t have any queens so I’m gonna just put down a king—“

“You can’t just put it down like that,” Edward interrupts.  “You have to say it’s a queen.”

“I’m not gonna do that!”

“Why don’t we just have him take the pile?”  Darius suggests.

“Yeah, just take the pile at this point, Greed,” Ed agrees.

“This game makes no sense,” Greed mutters as he puts the cards in his hand.

“Since when do we have a deck of cards?”  Heinkel asks from behind the steering wheel.

“I stole it,” Greed confesses.

“Not from the LeCoultes, I hope.”

“Nah, I pickpocketed it off some guy on the street in Rush Valley.  Got a few things that way, actually.”

“I knew putting you and Paninya in a room together was a disaster waiting to happen,” Edward groans.  “Two kings.”

“Three aces,” says Darius.

“What do you mean, disaster?”  Greed asks.  “You guys were harpin’ about money and whatnot, right?  Also, I don’t have any twos, do I just take the pile again?”

“Yeah,” Ed affirms.  “I mean, I’m not exactly crazy about you stealing money from people while we’re on the run, you know.  Seriously, if you took anything from the LeCoultes, I’ll make Mr. Lion turn us around and go right back to Rush Valley.  One three.”

“Cheat,” Darius calls, and Edward quickly takes his card back.  “Four fours.”

“Not worth it,” Heinkel grunts, scratching his mustache.  “At this point we’re closer to Dublith than we are to Rush Valley.  How much money did you even get, anyways?”

“About 60,000 cens,” Greed says nonchalantly.  “One five.”

Heinkel whistles.  “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but … nicely done, Greed.”

“Oh, you’re siding with him?”  Ed says in surprise.  “One six.”

“Cheat,” Darius calls again.

“Nope,” Ed grins, flipping the card face up.  “I win.”

“Shit.”

“You kidding?” Heinkel says over them.  “60,000 cens is gonna hold us over for a while — so long as we don’t have any urgent medical expenses over the next few months, that is.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Greed chuckles.  “For once, we agree on something.”

“Yeah, don’t push it.”

“Ed, can we play something else?”  Darius suggests.  “So it’s fair for Greed, I guess.  Like poker.”

“We’d probably kick his ass at poker, too,” Ed points out.

“I mean, it’s not like you have to lie in poker,” Darius argues.

“Well, what, do we even have poker chips?”

“Why don’t we use Greed’s money?”  Darius says jokingly.

“You’re not touching my money—!”

“Shit!” Heinkel suddenly pulls over to the side of the road, and cards fly all over the seats.

“Heinkel, what’s the problem?”  Darius asks, turning his head around to face forward.

“Military up ahead.”  True to Heinkel’s word, Darius is able to see a number of military vehicles parked several hundred yards ahead of them.  As soon as they stop, one of the vehicles begins moving towards them.

“Did they notice us?”  Ed asks.

“Looks like it,” Heinkel responds warily.

“Why don’t we just drive around them?”  Greed suggests.

“It’s better not to arouse suspicion,” Heinkel says.  “Let’s just cooperate for now.  If it’s just local military, they’re probably not even looking for us.  Act like nothing’s wrong, alright?”

As the car gets closer and pulls up across from them, Darius hazards a glance at the other passengers, and almost does a double take when he sees who is in the passenger seat.  Could it be..?

He has little time to process it, however, when the car’s driver emerges, clad in military uniform, and approaches their own vehicle from the driver’s side.  Instinctively, Darius begins to sink down in his seat.  The soldier knocks on the window, and Heinkel rolls it down.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” the soldier says, looking at a clipboard in his hand.  “A week ago we received a report at Southern Command Center that there was a fugitive traveling through southern Amestris from Worcester; allegedly passed through Rush Valley.  Charged with military desertion, theft, and kidnapping.  One former Special Operative Mr. Heinkel, first name redacted, mid to late thirties, about 200 centimeters tall, glasses, mustache, blond hair, traveling in a stolen black automobile with a man identified as former Special Operative Mr. Darius, first name redacted, as well as two unidentified men.  Do I have all that information correct, sir?”

“Why is there a kidnapping charge?”  Heinkel asks.

“I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle, sir.”  

Behind the man, the woman in the passenger seat of his car opens the door, and Darius sinks down even further in the seat.  His suspicions are confirmed when he gets a clearer look at her face — though she looks much more professional with her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun and her uniform impeccably clean, she has the same, unmistakable lanky physique and brutish features that Darius is all too familiar with.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that,” Heinkel retorts.  “How about you make this easier and let us through?”

“So I feel like we should’ve just hightailed it,” Greed whispers to Ed.

The soldier takes a gun out of his holster and points it at Heinkel.  “Step out of the car, sir.  I won’t be asking again.”

Though Heinkel makes an uneasy face towards the soldier, Darius can see him secretly fumbling around for the gun in his pocket—

“Oh, this is a surprise,” the woman reiterates, making her way over to their car as well.  “You Southern Command dogs should count yourselves lucky I happened to be here for this.  Takes the help of one ‘Special Ops’ soldier to catch another, after all.”

“I have it under control,” the soldier tells her.

“Well, if you say so.”  The woman cocks her head, taking a good look inside the car.  “How’s it going, Mr. Darius?”

“Heyyyy, Ballantine,” Darius greets her, his voice breaking.  He sinks so far down in the seat that his knees are now scrunched up against the glove compartment.  “I’m fine, you?”

“Could be better,” she shrugs.  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit disappointed in you.  You didn’t really think you’d get away with abandoning the military, did you?”

“Um, in my defense, I was--”

Without warning, Heinkel whips out his gun and fires a shot point blank between the eyes of the soldier in front of him.  He fires another shot towards Ballantine, but she ducks out of the way with almost catlike reflexes.  Not wasting any time, Heinkel then slams on the gas pedal, veering the car off the road to the right as fast as it can go.  Shortly after, the military entourage up ahead begins to pursue them.

“Did you really have to kill him like that?”  Ed shudders.

“Now’s not the time to get soft, Fullmetal,” Heinkel barks.

“Something familiar about that lady,” Greed notes.  “Swear I’ve seen her before.  Also, we’re going way off track, genius.”

“I’m sorry, do you want them following us to Dublith?!  We need to lose them first.”

“Special Ops, huh?”  Edward says.

“That’s usually code for chimera,” Heinkel explains, accelerating as the other vehicles begin to gain on them.  “Sometimes it means homunculus.  They gave Kimblee that title, too.  Most of us got assigned to Kimblee up north, so I’m guessing that lady was one of the leftovers.  You know her, Darius?”

“We go back a few years,” Darius explains as he starts trying to sit himself up straight.

Edward casts a wary glance behind him, seeing that the other automobiles are gaining on them, including the other car which now seems to be driven by Ballantine (albeit even further behind the others).  Not long after, gunshots pierce the air behind them, and he and Greed duck down a bit.

“Good thing that didn’t hit us, huh?” Greed says.  “Guess they’re not all that good at shooting.”

“They’re not aiming for you,” Heinkel says.  “They’re aiming for the tires.”

“Oh, that sounds bad.”

Edward suddenly opens up the car door, clapping his hands together and touching them to the ground quickly.  Despite his best efforts, his left hand comes away from the fast-moving ground scraped and bloody, but he’s pleased to find that his right hand is only a bit scuffed.  Shortly after, behind their car rises a large rock wall that most of the pursuing vehicles either skid and flip over or slam into as it continues to rise.

“Not bad, kid!”  Greed cheers.  “Did you see that?  He got all of ‘em in one go.  You’re such a hypocrite, Ed, you definitely killed some of those guys.”

“No, I didn’t--!”

“Let’s make sure they’re out of sight before we get back on the road,” Heinkel cautions.

“Yeah, about that…”  Darius jabs a finger behind them.

“I can’t look behind me, Darius,” Heinkel says in exasperation.  “What is it?”

Clambering over the rock wall is an enormous beast, wearing what looks like a military uniform.  Leaping down from the top of it nimbly, the creature begins racing towards the car on all fours at breakneck speed.

“Giant cat,” Ed announces, trying to transmute the ground again and shouting in pain as his left hand starts bleeding more profusely.

“Cheetah,” Darius corrects him.  “Close the door, Ed, that’s not gonna hold her.”

True to Darius’s word, as Ed closes the car door with his right hand, he sees behind him that the second rock wall barely seems to faze Ballantine as she leaps over it -- and what’s more, she’s coming up very close to the car.

“What the hell?”  Ed says incredulously.  “How is she so fast--!”

“There’s a canyon up ahead,” Darius warns Heinkel.

“Yeah, I know, I--”

Everyone shouts in surprise as Ballantine takes a bounding leap and jumps onto the roof of the car, sinking her claws through to the inside.  They can hear a ferocious growl from above them.

“Everyone out of the car!”  Heinkel shouts.

“While we’re moving?!”  Greed complains.

“NOW!”  Not wasting any time, Heinkel unbuckles his seatbelt, opening his door and leaping out the side, and the other three follow suit.  When Darius rolls out as well, he quickly finds himself bruised all over as he rolls several feet over the rocky ground.  Just ahead of them, the car careens off into the canyon with Ballantine still clinging to the top, and both her and the car fall out of his line of sight.  Still disoriented, Darius moves his head to look around, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees Greed, Ed, and Heinkel lying safely on the ground several yards away from him.

“Is everyone alright?”  Darius grunts as he gets up, his bruises throbbing a bit.  Greed is the next to stand, sparks of energy buzzing around him as his scrapes heal themselves.  Heinkel groans and clutches his back as he gets up, and they all make their way over to Ed, who appears to have been banged up the most.  “Oh, good grief.  You poor kid…”

“Did we really have to throw the whole car away?”  Ed says in a pained voice as he slowly rolls over onto his back, trying to get up, and Darius rushes forward immediately to help him stand.

“They’re off our trail now, at least,” Heinkel protests.  “In my book, that’s better than getting caught and taken back to Central.  At least we know they probably won’t be following us to Dublith.”

“There could be more of them in Dublith,” Ed reasons.

“You think that chimera lady’s dead?”  Greed asks, turning his gaze to the canyon.

Heinkel walks over to the edge with him, but it’s too far down and overgrown with plantlife for him to be able to make out where the car landed.  “We’re made of sturdier stuff than the average human … I can’t be sure if she’s dead or not, but let’s hope.”

“Either way, we need to keep moving,” Darius decides.  “Put as much distance between her and us as possible.”

“What’s the nearest town?”  Ed asks.

“Again, Dublith,” Heinkel tells him.  “And it’s about a hundred kilometers southeast of here, so we’d better get a move on.  Try to find the railroad again if we can.”

“Still don’t think that’s a good idea,” Edward dissuades him.  “Think about it -- the military was close by--”

“We’re going to Dublith,” Greed says firmly.  “That’s an order.  You forget who’s in charge here?”

“Fine, whatever,” Ed replies.  “Next question, we had all our first aid stuff and rations in the car, right?”

“Nope, right here,” Heinkel says, dangling a large duffel bag in front of him.

“We lost the cards, though,” Greed laments.

“Doesn’t matter.  Do you still have the money, Greed?”

“Yep,” Greed answers, patting his coat pocket.

“Okay, that worked out better than I thought it would,” Ed says.  “Let’s get walking, I guess.”

“Well, let’s get you bandaged, first,” Darius insists.  “Your hand.”

“I can do it myself,” Ed replies, snatching the duffel bag from Heinkel.

----------------------------

After walking until the sun dips below the horizon, the group has made enough progress that they’ve made it back on track to Dublith alongside the railroad leading there.  They don’t see anymore military cars along the way, thankfully (no cars at all, for that matter), and finally decide to make “camp” for the night when they find a sparse group of trees and bushes amidst the barren land.

“Hey, Fullmetal,” Darius asks him.  “If I get some branches together can you use your alchemy to make a fire?”

“What do I look like, the Flame Alchemist?”  Edward snorts.  “It’s not the easiest thing in the world to transmute gases.”

“You don’t have a lighter in there, do you, Heinkel?”  Darius asks, turning to him.

“Nope.”

“Well, I can help if you want to grab me a few pieces of dry wood,” Ed offers.

“Probably not a great idea to start a fire here, anyways,” Greed says, running a hand through his hair.  “Like Heinkel said, there’s probably still military crawling around out here.  Lighting a fire is pretty much begging them to come find us.”

“Good point,” Heinkel agrees.

“Wow, since when did you guys get so friendly?”  Ed chuckles.  “That was a joke.”

“I was gonna say, clock’s still ticking on me putting a bullet through Greed’s head.”

“So what’s for dinner, Mr. Gorilla?”  Ed asks.

“Uh…” Darius digs through the duffel bag.  “You want a tin of sardines?”

“Sure.”

“I can pass on food for tonight,” Greed offers.  “It’s not like I need to eat, anyways.”

“Bless your heart,” Darius says.

As Darius and Heinkel retrieve their own food, the four of them gradually sit down in a circle around Heinkel’s duffel bag.  The sky above is rather clear tonight, and the numerous stars seem to brighten up the sky enough in place of a fire.

“It’s pretty cold out here,” Edward observes, shivering.  “I thought since we were down so far south it’d be a little warmer.”

“It's getting colder everywhere,” says Darius.  “Winter’s coming.”

“Guess so.”

“Well, thanks for saving our asses today, Ed,” Greed says, laying back and folding his arms behind his head.  “You and Heinkel.  That was crazy.  The way you squished those guys against that wall!  Wish I could do that.”

“It was just enough to stop the cars from following us,” Ed insists.  “It’s not like I was trying to kill them.”

“They were going pretty fast,” Darius points out.  “There’s a good chance at least a couple of ‘em died in the collision.”

“Well, you know Ed, he never wants to kill anyone, no matter what,” Heinkel chuckles.  “Weighs too much on his conscience.”

“Not innocent people,” Ed corrects him.

“Was Kimblee innocent?”  Heinkel asks, the derision in his voice clear.  “Don’t answer that.  I’ve heard all about how Kimblee was in Ishval.  Everyone kept a wide berth around him.  He loved every minute of it.  Killing innocent people … not like the rest of us soldiers were any better, though.  Killed ‘em all the same.  That’s the thing, Fullmetal -- once you sign on with the military and follow their orders, whatever they tell you to do, you’re complicit.  So don’t feel so bad about it -- they probably deserved it.”

“We’re military, too,” Ed retorts.  “And either way, it’s -- I can’t, alright?  If there’s another way, without killing someone, then I have to take it.  Once you die, there’s no coming back.”  Ed is silent for a while, waiting for someone else to speak, and continuing when no one does.  “...Sorry.  I’d understand if you and Mr. Gorilla blamed me for what happened in that mine shaft … if I’d just killed Kimblee, none of it would’ve happened, huh?”

“Hmph.  No, I don’t blame you,” Heinkel answers.  “In a way, that was a wake-up call for us, I think.  That we didn’t need to stick around with the military.  You agree, Darius?”

“Yeah, no, trust me, I’d take you and Greed over Kimblee any day,” Darius responds.  “You guys didn’t leave us to die.  Not yet, at least.”

“It is kind of funny and all, though -- like you said, you’re military, but you refuse to take another person’s life,” Heinkel comments.  “Funny group we’ve got here.  Fullmetal wouldn’t willingly kill another person; Greed refuses to hit women.”

“Well, that’s ‘cause Greed is sexist,” says Ed.

“How is that sexist?”  Greed demands.  “That’s like, the opposite of sexist!”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Darius pipes up.  “We need a team name, don’t you think?  For the four of us.”

“Half of us are chimeras,” Heinkel mentions.  “The Chimera Brotherhood?”

“Well, that’s just you guys.  I kinda started this group, anyways,” Edward points out.  “What about the Fullmetal Alchemist--”

“You’re not even the leader, dumbass,” Greed says.  “Plus there’s only one of you.  And you guys are forgetting about Ling.  With me, him, and Ed, there’s a homunculus majority.  The Homunculus Brotherhood.”

“How could I forget,” Ed says dryly.

“So you’re Greed, and Ling is Gluttony,” Darius recounts.  “Which one is Ed?”

“Wrath,” Heinkel says immediately.

“No, I don’t want him to be Wrath,” Greed whines.  “He can be Envy.  Jealous of tall people.”

“Very funny.”

“Actually, we can all be homunculi,” Greed decides.  “Gorius, which one are you?”

“Uh…”  Darius takes a moment to think about it.  “Uh, maybe Sloth.  I dunno.”

“Cool, alright.  What about you, Heinkel?”

“Wrath,” says Heinkel again.

“You can’t be Wrath,” Greed orders him.  “You can be Pride.  ‘Cause you’re a lion.”

“Why can’t any of us be Wrath?”  Heinkel asks.

“You don’t want to be Wrath,” Greed tells him.  “He’s a piece of shit.”

“What, do you mean Führer Bradley?”  Ed queries.

“Yeah, I hate that guy so much.”

“It’s so weird to think that you and Bradley are brothers,” Ed says.  “I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Yeah, he’s the youngest in the family,” Greed says, clenching his fist.  “Stupid brat.  But hey, enough about my family -- you know, I didn’t think it was possible for any other family to be more messed up than mine, especially a human family, but you’ve got one, Heinkel!  Pat yourself on the back!”

“Screw you,” Heinkel says.

“Think your sister’s rotting in some jail in Central right about now?”

“I hope so,” Heinkel admits.  “Damned if she doesn’t deserve it.”

“How about you, Ed?”  Greed asks.  “What’s up with your family?  Got that brother of yours in the suit of armor, right?  Anyone else?”

“Oh, are we just talking about our messed up families now?”  Edward asks.  “I can do you one better, Mr. Lion.  My old man walked out on our family when me and my brother were toddlers.  Our mother died of an illness a few years later.  Then me and my brother tried to bring her back to life with human transmutation -- it failed.  I lost my leg, and my brother lost his entire body.  I had to sacrifice my arm to bring him back … to bind his soul to a suit of armor.  Everything we’ve done after that -- well, we’re on this seemingly endless quest to get our bodies back…”

“You tell this story like you’ve told it a hundred times,” Darius says.  “I bet you tell it to loads of people, don’t you?  Anyways, I still think Heinkel has it worse.”

“Yeah, I was gonna say, that doesn’t even hold a candle to Heinkel’s whole situation,” Greed agrees.  “Your sister feeding your parents to her husband and you feel guilty because you could have prevented it had you not run off to join the military.”

“Can we please stop talking about my family?”  Heinkel retorts.

“Although, one interesting thing about my old man…”  Ed continues.  “He looks identical to your Father, Greed.”

“What do you mean, identical?  Like, they have the same face?”

“Yeah, they literally look exactly alike.”

“Woah, don’t freak out, Ed,” Greed starts, “But maybe we have the same dad.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, actually,” Ed responds.  “He’s weird enough as it is.”

“Finally,” Greed says, pumping a fist in the air.  “I have a brother who doesn’t completely suck.”

“Or maybe they’re identical twins,” Ed ponders.  “Our fathers.”

“So we’re cousins!  That’s cool, too,” Greed nods.  “Actually, that might just tip the boat in our favor.  Sorry, Heinkel, me and Ed’s combined family is more messed up than yours.”

“Great for you,” Heinkel replies.  “Actually, you know, I’d like to hear more about the prince’s family.  That’s something.  You’ve got six siblings, Greed -- eight if that thing with Ed is true -- Ling’s got roughly seven times the number of siblings you do.”

“Seven times eight?”

“Seven times--”

“Nevermind, Ling just told me he has forty-two siblings.  That’s not right!  You suck at math, Heinkel.”

“Hm.”

“Uh, let’s see…” Greed appears to be listening to Ling for a moment before he continues.  “Yeah, Ling barely knows most of his siblings.  He’s met some of them in court with their dad, the Emperor.  They ain’t all that friendly, always competing for the Emperor’s favor.  Regularly sending assassins after each other.  Uh … his mom’s a concubine, she lives in the Emperor’s palace.  Kid doesn’t see her that much.  Sure you’ve heard this one before, but he considers the Yao clan his real family, anyways.”

“I like that,” Heinkel smiles.  “Don’t like the folks you’re related to, get a family that really cares about you.”

“Hey Heinkel, wanna be my replacement dad?” Greed asks.

“I’m younger than you, moron.”

“Hey, what about you, Mr. Gorilla?”  Ed asks.  “What’s your family like?”

“Oh, uh…”  Darius pauses for a moment.  “I uh, I don’t really remember my family … I was abandoned when I was pretty young and I ended up growing up on the streets.  Nothing interesting to tell.”

“Sounds rough,” Greed replies.  “Sorry, Gorius.”

“Darius.”

As everyone has finished eating, the camp is silent for a bit, as more of them shift to laying down.

“...Hey, Greed?”  Ed asks finally, breaking the long silence.

“What’s up, kid?”

“I didn’t want to ask before, since you seemed touchy about it, but … what are you looking for in Dublith?”

Greed spreads his arms out on the ground.  “Guess there’s no use avoiding the subject.  You already know this, Ed, but Dublith used to be my place of residence, back when I was, uh, the old Greed.  I mean, now I know I’m still the same Greed.  Just in a different body.  Remember how when I came back in your friend Ling for the first time, you and your brother asked me if I remembered you from Dublith, and I spouted some shit about how that was the old Greed and I didn’t know what you were talking about?”

“Yeah, I remember,” says Ed.

“Before I ran into you guys, a bunch of my memories came back,” Greed explains.  “From when I was alive before.  That’s why I ended up ditching the other homunculi again.  But I still don’t think I got all of ‘em back.  I’m still struggling to remember some stuff…”

“So you think going back to Dublith will trigger more of your memories to come back?”  Edward asks.

“More or less, yeah,” Greed confirms.  “Seeing something from my past is what got my memories back in the first place, anyways.”

“What was it, out of curiosity?”

“None of your business, really,” Greed says flatly.

“Sorry.”

“Actually…”  Greed appears hesitant.  “Can I ask you something, Ed?”

“Uh, what is it?”  He asks.

“I’m sure you remember when … when uh, Wrath showed up and had the place gunned down,” Greed begins.  Though it’s faint, Edward can detect a tremor of fear in his voice.  “I saw … saw some of them die in front of me, but I uh, blacked out for the rest of it.  Towards the end there, my henchmen convinced your brother to keep my other lackey Martel safe.  Do you … do you know if she made it out okay?”

Edward is silent for an uncomfortably long time.  “...Bradley killed her while she was inside Al’s armor.  We had to pull her body out.”

“Fuck him.”  Greed slams a fist into the ground.

“Martel?”  Darius blurts out.

Greed releases a deep breath from his mouth.  “Yeah, Martel … her name was Martel.”

“He was, uh … he felt horrible,” Ed tells him.  “Al, I mean.  That he couldn’t keep her safe.”

“Wasn’t his fault,” Greed says bitterly, putting a hand to his forehead.  After a while, he lets it fall limp at his side again.  “Hey, Heinkel.  Gorius.  Fun fact:  you guys aren’t my first chimera lackeys.  Nah, I had a whole crew of ‘em in Dublith.  Martel.  Roa.  Dolcetto … Bido.  You, uh … I guess you could say they were like my…” 

Nobody says a word, and the air is deathly still.

“I see what you meant now, Ling,” Greed whispers.

Chapter Text

Darius jolts awake to hear what seems like a cacophony of sound around him, a dull ache in the back of his skull.

Groaning as he lifts his head up off the ground, Darius finds that he’s in what seems like a rather cramped space.  It reminds him of a jail cell -- not an unfamiliar setting, as he’s been imprisoned a few times in his life -- but this is rather different.  It feels more … sterile.  Empty.

His head shoots to the right as he notices a woman in another cell next to him, around his age and equally as covered in grime.  Her matted black hair hangs in her face as she hugs her knees close to her head, shuddering and whimpering.

“Oh … did you just wake up?”  A man with a crooked-toothed grin and patchy, balding hair across from Darius waves an arm at him to catch his attention.

“Huh?”

“I think he’s confused, Bacardi,” the balding man tells a woman in the cell next to his.

“Well, so is Ballantine,” she retorts, gesturing to the black-haired woman next to Darius.  “All of us are.  MPs arrested us for somethin’ we didn’t do.”

“This is a prison?”  Ballantine asks.  Darius reels back as she suddenly looks to him.  “You -- how long have you been here?”

“I … I just got here,” Darius says hoarsely.  “At least, I think.  I think the military took me here.”

Ballantine shakes her head.  “I-I-I don’t think this is a prison … something’s wrong.”

Darius looks around a bit more, discovering that the room appears to be one large cell block full of equally disoriented prisoners -- save for one who appears to be slumbering peacefully next to the balding man, who quickly takes notice himself.

“She’s still sleeping,” he observes, looking into the cell.  Hesitantly, he tries to reach a hand through the bars towards the cell’s occupant, but as soon as it brushes past the metal his entire body jolts back, a howl of pain escaping him.

“Careful, Bido!” Bacardi admonishes him.

“Ugh.”  With a grunt, the slumbering prisoner sits up.  Though equally as unkempt as the rest of them, the woman wears light-colored prisoner’s garments with a number label of 45, her tightly coiled hair bouncing in front of long eyelashes.  “Well, I was trying to sleep, but you’re all making a racket.”

“The bars are electrified,” Bacardi announces.

“These aren’t … cells…” Ballantine continues, looking behind her.  “They’re cages...”

Darius’s ears perk up as he hears the voice of an occupant past Ballantine’s cell mumbling to themselves, but the words are unintelligible.  Even further away than that, he swears he can hear what sounds like an animal growling.

“This isn’t right,” Bido says, looking down.  “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You weren’t stealin’ again, were you, Bido?”  Bacardi accuses him.

Bido shakes his head furiously.  “I wasn’t!  Honest, honest!”

“Well, I’ll be...”  The woman in the cell next to Bido rubs the back of her head.  “If we’re all cellmates, now, guess we might as well be friends, too.”  She turns towards the prisoner whom Darius can only assume to be Bacardi.  “What’s your name, honey?”

“Ah … Bacardi,” she answers.

The woman nimbly sticks a hand between the bars for Bacardi to shake, just avoiding the metal.  “Hennessy.  Pleasure.”

“I’m Bido,” says Bido.  “And that’s Ballantine.”

Hennessy turns to look at him.  “Sounds like you three already know each other.”

Bido nods vigorously.  “Our whole lives.”

“And we got the two quieter folks in this corner,” Hennessy announces, glancing briefly at Darius and another person.  “You got names?”

“Daniels,” says the prisoner across from Bacardi.

Darius can feel everyone’s eyes move over to his cell.  “Call me Darius.”

Faintly, Darius can hear what sounds like an animal growling from far outside the room.

“Well, get comfy,” Hennessy tells them.  “You’re gonna be here for a while … that is, if you last that long.”

“What are you talking about?”  Bacardi asks.

“Well, they’re gonna, uh … experiment on you, probably.  And if you make it out alive, you’ll end up like me.”

“The hell?”

“Just keep a positive attitude,” Hennessy grins.  “That’s how I made it this long.  I’m actually the only one left from the last test group--”

A hush falls over the cell block as two doors at the far end of the room swing open, and from what Darius can see out of the corner of his eye, a group of men in lab coats appear to have entered the cell block.  No one breathes a word as their footsteps echo off the ground, and they continue until they reach the end of the block where Darius and Bido reside.

“Our eighth batch of test subjects,” one of the men announces, looking down at a bundle of papers in his hand.  “Smaller group this time.  Let’s start with #71?”

“Got it,” a voice says at the far end of the room.  To his surprise, Darius watches the door to his cell swing open.

“Subject 71, please step forward,” the man says to Darius.

His head buzzing, Darius wobbles a bit as he gets to his feet.  Tentatively, he takes a few steps out of the cell, seeing a path through the scientists to the room beyond them.  Then, without warning, he charges forward, trying to escape.  Anticipating this, several of the men grab Darius and overpower him before he is able to get far, slamming him hard against the electrified bars of one of the cells.  Pain surges through his body, and it’s all Darius can do to stay conscious as they drag him back, his breath ragged.

“Each of you is expected to cooperate with us,” the man says, both to Darius and the others.  “There will be consequences if you’re unable to comply.  Subject 71, please follow us.”

Darius isn’t exactly given a choice as he’s dragged forward by the other men, stumbling as he does so.  Eventually, he is brought out of the room with the cells and led into a hallway, where he can hear the sounds of the animals louder than before.  Eventually, he is brought into a brightly-lit room that almost feels empty save for a stiff-looking cot and a counter containing a variety of different supplies.

“Now, then,” the man smiles, “We’re going to run some tests.”

-------------------------------

“Your turn, Bido,” says Hennessy.  “What’s your dream?”

“My dream?”  Bido looks up at the dim overhead lights.  “I think I would like to live on an island, maybe, where it’s nice and warm all the time.  I can climb up into the trees and get coconuts and bananas for breakfast, and I get to swim all day in the ocean.”

“Ballantine and Bacardi there with you?”  Hennessy asks.

“Yes,” he says, nodding.  “We can have a bonfire every night and roast sausages.”

“Where are we gettin’ sausages on an island?”  Bacardi chuckles.

“Well, we wouldn’t be stranded there,” Bido deflects.  “We would have a big boat that we can use to go to the mainland once a week.  We can sell fish we catch and buy tea and nice clothes, too.”

“I like that,” Hennessy says, nodding.  “Yeah, that’s a good dream, alright.  Darius next.”

Darius looks up.  “Hm?”

“Yeah, you,” Hennessy shoots back.  “What’s your dream, Darius?”

“Ah…” Darius scratches his head.  “I guess it’d be nice to have a house and a family.”

“Come on,” Hennessy groans.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“That’s it?  No, you gotta dream bigger, sweetheart,” Hennessy grins.  “Anything you want in the whole world.  It’s all yours, baby.”

“Uhh…”  Darius thinks for a few moments.  “How about a really big house with a really big family?”

“What kinda house?  A mansion?”  Hennessy presses him.

“Yeah, a mansion,” Darius nods.  “I can have, uh … butlers.  And cars.  And a huge garden on the front lawn.”

“Tell me about the family,” Hennessy continues.  “You got kids?  Who you gonna marry?”

“Yeah, maybe … maybe three or four kids, and I’m with a nice guy -- uh, I uh, I mean--”  Darius cuts himself off as soon as the words slip out of his mouth, his face turning red with embarrassment.

“Is he handsome?”  Hennessy asks, not missing a beat.  “And strong?”

“...Yeah,” Darius replies tentatively.

“He loves you more than anyone else in the world?”

“Yeah.”

“Then that’s a good dream you got there, Darius,” Hennessy smiles.  “You’re up, Ballantine.”

Ballantine, still curled up in a ball, is quiet for a bit before she finally speaks.  “...I’d like to be a princess.  The princess of Aerugo.  I live in a palace with servants who bring me food, and I’m never hungry.  I have a warm, soft bed with goosefeather pillows and silk sheets.  And I wear beautiful dresses with flower brocade.  Suitors line up to visit me.  I spend the afternoons having jasmine tea and biscuits while the finest musicians in the land play before me.  And … and in the evenings, my subjects gather before a great stage, and I perform ballet for them … that’s been my dream ever since I was little.”

“Oh, wow,” Hennessy says breathlessly, clearly taken aback.  “I love that, Ballantine.  That’s a gorgeous dream.  I love it.  Do you dance, honey?”

“Ballantine and Bacardi are very good at dancing,” Bido pipes up.

“Ooh, alright!”  Hennessy chuckles.  “That’s great.  What about you, Daniels?  Your dream?”

“I want to get out of here,” Daniels says gruffly.

“Seriously,” Hennessy sighs, “Didn’t you hear me earlier?  You gotta dream bigger, baby!  Anything in the world.  Anything you can think of--”

“Unlike the rest of you, I don’t live in fantasyland,” Daniels spits.  “You know that none of those dreams will ever be real.  You know that, right?  We’re in cages.  We’re lab rats.”

“What’s your dream, Bacardi?”  Hennessy asks her, acting as though Daniels had never spoken.

Bacardi puffs out a breath of air.  “I can’t say I’m as creative as the rest of you.  Uh … well, I really liked your dream, Hennessy.  The one about runnin’ a circus.  That sounds like a lot of fun.”

“You like that, huh?”  Hennessy says, smiling fondly.  “You can run it with me, sweetheart.  It’ll be our circus.  We’ll be our own bosses.  Not working for nobody but ourselves.”

“Our own bosses,” Bacardi repeats.  “Yeah, I like that.  Seems like in this world, you’re always workin’ for somebody.  The man above you, the man above him, and the man above him.  You’re on top, and you make all the rules.”

“We’ll be nice bosses,” Hennessy decides.  “We treat the performers like family.  The animals, too.  Everyone feels like they belong.”

“Do we get to be in the circus, too?”  Bido asks.

“You can all join our circus!”  Hennessy laughs.  “Only if you want to, though … but I asked you folks all this for a reason, you know.  Before you go to sleep tonight, you gotta think really hard about your dreams … so when you sleep, you’ll live it in your dream world.  That’s where it comes true.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll doze off right away,” Bacardi jokes.  “Good night, Hennessy.”

“Good night, Bacardi.”

The room seems to grow quieter, if only a bit, as they start to settle in for the (supposed) night, their only beds being the cold ground beneath them.  Darius shifts around a bit, eventually settling to try and sleep on his side.  Sleep doesn’t come easy, however, and he’s still awake half an hour later.

“Darius?”  Ballantine asks him quietly as he shifts to his other side.

“What is it?”  He whispers.

“You can’t sleep either, can you.”

“Mmh.  Trying to think about my dream,” Darius says.  “I liked yours.  It was the most extravagant.”

“Only because it can never come true,” Ballantine says somberly.

“...Maybe it will in your dream world.”

“Sometimes … sometimes I’m scared that I’ll fall asleep and never wake up,” Ballantine confesses.  “I’m scared that I’ll die here, too.  Die in this place…”

“Sorry,” says Darius.

The conversation dies, and Darius goes back to thinking hard about his dream.  Eventually he does fall asleep, but the next time he wakes he can’t remember his dream at all, if he did go to the place that he was supposed to.  Not that he has time to remember, anyways, as he is unceremoniously brought out of his slumber up by the sound of the door to the cell block clanging open.

He can hear some of the others groaning as they start to awaken as well, and watches as the group of scientists make their way down the block to his cell.  Once again, the door swings open.

“Subject 71, please step forward.”

Darius steps out of the cage obediently, and follows the scientists this time without causing any trouble -- now that they’ve undergone tests for a few weeks, he’s at least used to walking with them through the halls.  On this particular occasion, however, they don’t take Darius to the same room in which they’d run tests on him previously.  Instead, they take him all the way to the end of the hallway, the door opening out into a much larger room than he is used to.  In the center of the room lies something that Darius recognizes as an alchemist’s transmutation circle, and atop the circle he is almost surprised to see an animal resting there.  He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised -- they’d been hearing animal noises for weeks, now, so it was only a matter of time until he’d see one.  It’s more tranquil than he would have expected the animal to be, and looks at Darius with a tired, glazed-over expression.

“What is that?”  Darius asks.

One of the scientists gives him an amused look.  “It’s a gorilla.  You’ve never seen a picture?”

Darius shakes his head, and two of the other scientists guide him over to sit down in a nearby chair, taking a needle and injecting its contents into his arm.  Darius starts to feel tired again, and he’s rather disoriented when the men begin to pick him back up from the chair and walk him over to the transmutation circle, setting him down opposite the gorilla.  In the back of his mind, Darius knows he should be at least a bit concerned, but he has not the will nor the energy to do anything about it.

“Should we give that thing more sedatives?”  One of the men asks as he looks over at the gorilla.

“Yeah, maybe,” another decides.  “Should be easier if neither of them are awake for it.”

Darius sits there for a long time, and slowly drifts out of consciousness into what he can only call another slumber.  This time, he does remember his dream -- and it’s not a pleasant one.  

It’s the greatest pain he’s ever felt in his life, as his body tears itself apart and puts itself back together again, and he can feel every inch of himself screaming in pain.  He feels a maelstrom of emotions, emotions that don’t belong to him, shouldn’t belong to him.  Something like he’s never felt before.  Something primal.

He is in another cage, but he does not know that it is a cage.  Thousands of eyes stare at him, unblinking, watching, waiting for him to move, but he only notices them when they start throwing things at him.  Rotten food.  Garbage.  Rocks.  Voices chattering, laughing.  Voices that he has learned to listen to and ignore.  

-----------------------------------

Hennessy picks up the raw meat haunch with a tired look in her eye.  “You know, I did warn you folks that they’d start feeding you like animals, too.”

This doesn’t seem to bother Ballantine as much who, despite still being in her “human” form, rips into the meat with her teeth, not paying attention to the others around her.  Though with not as much gusto as Ballantine, Bido seems to have at least gotten used to having to eat the mealworms they’d been feeding him.  Darius supposes he should count himself lucky for having the most “normal” food being given to him -- even if it is half-rotten fruit.

The room is much emptier than it was some weeks ago, when it had been crowded with test subjects.  Not that it concerns Darius, however faintly he is unsettled with the knowledge that many of the other subjects will never return.

“Aren’t you cold, Bido?”  Hennessy asks him.  “You really can’t transform back?”

“Ahahah … I don’t think I can,” Bido says, lifting his sallow tail off the floor.  Though he didn’t have much hair to begin with before, Bido is now completely hairless, with scales that almost resemble liver spots sticking out of his bald head.

“Guess you can’t see him from here, but our friend Daniels is in the same boat as you,” Hennessy reassures him.  “It’s probably ‘cause you’re not mammals, is my guess.  Speaking of -- Daniels, what are you doing over there?”

Darius can’t really see what she’s referring to, but out of the corner of his eye it looks as though something like an enormous tongue is flying out of the bars, occasionally getting zapped by the metal and darting back in.

Not a few seconds later, the door at the end of the room opens, and someone begins walking in.  Darius is a bit surprised to hear the footsteps of only a single person, rather than the group of scientists who usually come in to visit them, but is even more surprised when he catches a glimpse of the visitor.  Though of youthful appearance, their visitor wears a scant amount of clothing, and stringy, unkempt black hair hangs in his face, making him seem not so out of place among those populating the cages.

“Thought I’d take a look through the menagerie,” the visitor’s voice drawls as he strides through the cell block.  Eventually he stops in front of Ballantine, who pays little attention to the visitor as she continues to wolf down her food.  “Look at you!  A real slobbering animal.”

“Who’re you supposed to be?”  Bacardi asks boldly.

“I guess you could say I’m your handler,” the visitor claims.  “The zookeeper, if you’d like to call me that.  I just thought I’d come to congratulate you on being our most successful batch of human chimeras.”  He turns around to look at Hennessy, who’s still left her food untouched.  “What’s wrong?  Not hungry?”

“Just wish they’d give me a menu one of these days,” Hennessy shrugs.

“Like you have room to complain,” the visitor chuckles, moving on to look at Darius and Bido.  “Humans are really pathetic to begin with, you know.  Weak and helpless.  But even humans have hierarchies.  Castes.  And all of you were at the bottom of that hierarchy, weren’t you?  Vagrants.  The lowest of the low, even among humans.”

None of them dare to speak as the visitor continues to leer at them.  As Darius looks up, he can’t help but fixate on what looks like a strange birthmark resting on the visitor’s leg.

“It really is sad for all of you, though,” he continues.  “I know!  Because you’ve become a life form that humans consider even lower than themselves.  Animals.  Now you’re even lower than humans.  You’re subhuman!  Scum in the truest sense of the word.  How does that feel?”

Silence, once again.  The visitor seems almost irritated by it, and starts to head for the exit.

“Get comfortable in there,” he says, beginning to close the door behind them.  “Don’t forget, you’re our property now.”

The silence hangs in the air long after the visitor leaves, stretching on longer now that they can no longer hear the cries of animals echoing through the walls.  In fact, the only noise that accompanies the others picking at their food is the sound of Daniels trying to reach something at the end of the room with his tongue appendage.

A couple hours later, Darius is half-lying on the ground when he hears the sound of a door swinging open.  At first, he does not read into it, but begins to understand how strange it is when he realizes that nobody had come into the room to open the doors -- and, shortly after, he hears surprised reactions from several of the other chimeras.

“You got it open?”  Bacardi says, bewildered.

“He hit that lever,” Hennessy points out.  “Nice going, honey!”

Darius can see Daniels scrambling from his cell, and it’s the first time Darius can say he’s gotten a proper look at him, if he can call it that -- he can only see the back of Daniels’s hairless head in a blur as he rushes towards the doors, the shouts from the other prisoners rising in volume.

“Now get ours,” one calls out to him, but to no avail -- Daniels pays no attention to the others, scurrying out the doors.

“Nice if we could all be frog people,” Hennessy says, putting her head in her hand.  “Yeah, guess he didn’t like any of us enough to help us out, too.  Shame.”

As if on cue, Darius hears gunshots echo from the walls.  The chimeras immediately grow silent again, and the room seems to wait with bated breath for a long time.  Then, without warning, the doors to the room burst open, and in arrives the head scientist and two members of his entourage.  

They throw to the ground what Darius can only assume to be the body of Daniels -- much like the rest of them, his human physique appears to have morphed to resemble the animal he’d taken on the attributes of, and his mouth gapes open quite like a frog beneath the bullet wounds splattered across his head.

“Let this be another warning to all of you,” the man says.

------------------------------------------------------

There are some days where, to Darius, the block of cages feels eerily quiet and empty (and it is much emptier than when he first arrived), but it certainly doesn’t feel like it on days like today, wherein he can hear the prisoners on the far end of the room growling and snarling at each other.  This did seem to happen on the rare occasion when Hennessy was taken out of her cell for testing; as though the grounding force that she imposed on everyone had been lifted.

“You hear that?”  Bacardi looks towards the door forlornly, the light glinting off her eyes making them flash a luminous yellow.  “Like real beasts, they are.  Turnin’ into mindless, slobberin’ animals.”

“I’m sure that won’t happen,” Bido reassures her.  “Hennessy’s been here a long time, and she seems okay--”

“You’re talkin’ like an idiot, Bido.”

“Don’t call me that…”  He says meekly.

“I didn’t call you an idiot, I said you’re talkin’ like one.  Hennessy’s the best of us, but the longer we all stay here, the faster we’ll lose our minds.  It’s just a matter of when.  All of us cooped up like this.”

Bido nods thoughtfully.  “Ah … I never really liked living in the alleyways before, but now I really miss it.  I miss sleeping under the stars and eating fresh bread and watching parades.  And summer breezes and rain and snow.”

“Yeah?”  Bacardi smiles a bit.  “Think if I ever get out of here, the first thing I want to do is get out of the city and find a big green forest full of trees and bushes.  Eat wild berries and mushrooms.  Roll around in the dirt.”

“That must be the bear in you talking,” Ballantine says in a hoarse voice.

Bacardi laughs uproariously.  “What about you, Ballantine?  What do you miss on the outside?”

Ballantine hugs her knees up to her chest.  “I don’t know…”

“The more things change, the more they stay the same with you, Balli.”

“Ballantine never really wants much of anything,” Bido points out.  “But I’m sure you can think of something you want, right?  You’ll be happier if you do.”

“That’s not gonna make her happier, idiot,” Bacardi scolds him.

“He said not to call him an idiot,” Darius pipes up.

Bido smiles at him.  “Is there anything you miss on the outside, Darius?”

He shakes his head.  “Not really.”

“You and Ballantine aren’t so different, then.”

“No, what he said was different from what she said,” Bacardi argues.  “She said ‘I don’t know’, he said he doesn’t miss anything … really?  You just like it better in here?”

“I guess,” Darius replies.

“Nothing you miss.”

“No.”

“No family or friends?”

“Didn’t really have any.”

“Well … we’re your friends now, Darius,” Bido offers.

Darius perks up, looking at Bido in surprise.  “Well, uh, thanks.”

“Ahaha … I guess that’s the upside for you, isn’t it?  Being in here instead of out there.”

“There’s nothin’ good about being locked up in here,” Bacardi snaps.

“But--”

“Remember what they said?  We’re property.  We’re not even people to them.  We’re just animals in cages.  It’s vile.  Can’t imagine why anyone would like livin’ in this prison.  You don’t, right, Ballantine?”

Ballantine blinks.  “I’m not sure.”

Bacardi lets out a noise of exasperation.  “Have no idea what’s goin’ on in that head of yours.  No offense, but maybe all of you folks are losin’ your minds.”  With that, she turns her head back to the entrance, putting her head in her hand.

Darius exchanges a glance with Ballantine.  “I think Bido is right.  We’re not too different.”

In response, she laughs a bit under her breath.

---------------------------------

“What the hell is this supposed to be?”  Roa asks gruffly.  “Some kinda zoo?”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” Hennessy grins.  “Welcome, welcome!  Admission’s free.”

Though Darius can’t really see them from where he is, he estimates that it’s about a year and a half later when the scientists bring in a rather large group of people to fill up the rest of the cages in the room.  From the direction Roa is speaking from, Darius presumes that he’s in the cage that once belonged to Daniels.

“You’re supposed to be some kind of tiger?”  Dolcetto says in awe.

“Sure am,” Hennessy nods, shifting back into her human form.  “Bacardi can turn into a bear, Ballantine’s a cheetah, Bido over there, he’s like a gecko, I think, he’s stuck that way, Darius back there is a gorilla--”

“I’ve never heard of anything like this before in my life,” Martel says incredulously.  “So what, are they gonna turn us into animal people too?”

“Well, they call us chimeras,” Bacardi explains.  “They take you and an animal, mash you together with alchemy.  If you survive, you’ll end up like us.”

“Did you folks get injured in Ishval, too?”  Ulchi pipes up.

“No idea what any of us would be doing in Ishval.  What are you goin’ on about?”

“What, do you live under a rock?”  Dolcetto sighs.  “Executive Order #3066.  Signed into action four months ago.”

“We basically do live under a rock,” Hennessy grunts.  “Think we’ve been in here for two years.  No contact with the outside world.”

“Nothing?”  Martel says, a tinge of worry in her voice.  “But you guys are military, right?”

“You think we’re military types?”  Hennessy says, barely containing her laughter.  “Real funny.  We were living on the streets before we got here.”

“You were?”  Dolcetto says, almost in dismay.  “No kidding.”

“This is what the military thinks of its soldiers.”  Fieseler scoffs.  “Lumping us in here with the homeless.  Shows how much we’re worth to them.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Martel scolds him.  “Saying that right in front of them.”

“Could say he’s got a point,” Dolcetto argues.  “Damn military.  We get injured once and they take us out of action.  Turn us into science experiments.”

“This might just be temporary for us,” Roa says hopefully.  “Maybe after they turn us into these chimeras or whatever they’re gonna send us back into the fray.”

“Don’t tell me you’re looking forward to going back to Ishval,” Martel scolds.  “What, you’re excited to go back and shoot up children?”

“Do you really wanna talk about this right now?”  Ulchi groans.

“Goddamn, it’s wrong and you know it,” Martel huffs.  “This whole war.”

“But it’s not like you laid down your gun and refused to fight,” Roa retorts.  “Too scared of getting court-martialed, am I right?”

“Speak for yourself.  I was stationed at the border.”

“This is no better than getting court-martialed,” says Dolcetto.  “Worse, if you think about it.  This isn’t even a prison.  You know that, right?  Prisons have beds.  A bench, maybe.  Probably a toilet.  I bet these folks piss in the corner.  Sure smells like it.”

“You’d better get used to pissing in the corner yourself,” Fieseler tells him.

“And get used to eating like an animal,” Bacardi says with some bitterness.  “They might make you eat bugs.  Raw meat, if you’re lucky.”

“This is insane,” Roa interjects.  “This is-this is shameful.  I’m not spending the rest of my life in a fucking cage.  I’d rather die.”

“Well, the bars are electrified,” Hennessy snickers.  “Wanna die, just hold on for dear life.”

“That easy?”  Roa queries.  “And what’s stopped the rest of you from doing that?”

“Animal instinct.”  Ballantine, who has been very quiet, suddenly speaks up.  “It tells me that I don’t want to die.  Even if it means I have to stay in here for the rest of my life.”

“That’s sad,” Dolcetto says abruptly.  “No offense, but that’s pathetic, and I feel sorry for you.”

“This is no way to live,” Roa grumbles in agreement.  “Living like an animal in a cage.  It isn’t right.”

“So what’s the plan?”  Hennessy asks, amused.  “Gonna kill yourselves?”

The soldiers, who had been so vocal before, are silent for several moments.

“Not yet,” Dolcetto says finally.

“Yeah, not yet,” Roa repeats.

“This might actually be karma for us,” Martel jokes.  “Better sit it out.”

“Knew it,” Hennessy smirks.  “You’re a bunch of cowards like the rest of us.”

-------------------------------------------

“Bear girl,” Fieseler asks.  “I got a question.”

“It’s Bacardi,” she shoots back.  “I see becomin’ a chimera didn’t make you any more polite.”

“Don’t know what you were expecting,” he shrugs.  “But I was gonna say, all you homeless folks lived in Central, right?  You grow up there too?”

“I did grow up in Central, actually,” says Bacardi.  “My parents gave me up at an orphanage.  My friends and I ran away when we were kids.  Ballantine and Bido.”

“Which one’s Bido again?”

“Gecko, right?”  Martel pipes up.  “Guess we can’t really see him from here.  He’s quiet.”

“You used to talk more, Bido,” Hennessy says, turning to him.  “Shy with all the new people around?”

“Hehe, you could say that,” Bido says hoarsely.

“Didn’t you say he lost his hair when he became a lizard?”  Martel asks.

“Think so,” Hennessy replies.  “Lose any hair when they mashed you with a snake?”

“Nope,” Martel says smugly.  “Lucky me.  Guess the alchemists just got better at their job since.”

“Wish we could all see each other better,” says Roa.  “You folks over there wouldn’t believe what Dolcetto’s doing.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dolcetto snaps.  “Like you’re any better.”

“What’s he up to?”  Hennessy asks.

“Scratching his head with his leg!”  Roa chuckles, barely able to contain his laughter.  “Just like a little dog!  That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!”  Martel begins to join in laughing.

“I’m itchy, alright?!”  Dolcetto shouts in exasperation.  “It’s not like we get to shower in here!”

“Careful, Dolcetto,” Martel snickers.  “Maybe you’ve got fleas.”

“Yeah?  Well, I bet you’re--”

“What’ve we got in here?”  An inquisitive voice asks.  Darius’s ears perk up as he hears it accompanied by the sound of the doors opening.

“What the -- who the hell are you?”  Martel demands, her voice filled with uncertainty.  “You don’t look like a scientist.”

“Calm down, sweetheart,” the man laughs.  “I’m just here to rob the place.”

“Nothing to steal in here,” Roa states.  “We’re just prisoners.  Freaks, actually.  Got nothing on us but rags.”

“Yeah?”  He replies.  “Guess I wouldn’t mind stealing some prisoners, too.  Bet you’re itching to get out of here, huh?  You said you were freaks?”  He takes a few steps forward, seeming to look in on Dolcetto.  “I can kind of see it with this fella.”

“Listen, wise guy--!”

“Don’t take it as an insult,” the man deflects.  “I’m kind of a freak, myself.  Not exactly human, you see.”

“Neither are we,” Martel pipes up.  “We’re all chimeras.  People transmuted with animals.  You’re not joking?  You’ll get us out of here?”

“So long as you’re coming with me,” he grins.

“Seems too good to be true,” Roa says cautiously.  “What are you after?  Really?”

“Exactly what I said,” the man answers.  “You see, I’m the type of guy who desires a lot of things.  I want money and women.  Status and fame.  Power and sex.  And everything else the world has to offer.  So I guess I’m in the market for some henchmen, too.  You guys sound like a fun bunch, anyways.  What do you say?”

“You out of your damn mind?”  Fieseler says indignantly.  “You’re some delusional bastard.  Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Who cares?”  Dolcetto retorts.  “He’s saying he’ll get us out of here, you moron.  I’ll follow him to hell and back if it means I don’t have to rot in this cage anymore!”

“That’s the spirit!”  The man says, snapping his fingers.  “Anybody else?”

Darius hears many of the other chimeras murmur in assent, others practically clamoring to be released, but Ballantine and Bido stay very quiet, much like himself.

“You see those levers?”  Martel tells him.  “They go to each of the cages.”

Sure enough, the doors to each of the cages begin to swing open one by one.  As soon as Darius watches the door to his own swing open, his heart begins to race.  Part of Darius is telling him to get up and walk out, but there is a stronger, more persistent voice in the back of his mind telling him not to, telling him it’s too dangerous.  Timidly, he looks around, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Hennessy and Bacardi leave their cages -- and as soon as they do so, Hennessy grabs Bacardi and embraces her tightly.

“Been wanting to do that for two years,” Hennessy chuckles.

As Darius cranes his neck to get a better glimpse of the man, he sees that he is decked out almost entirely in leather, sporting a sleeveless vest with a fur collar over a form-fitting sleeveless shirt, and his eyes are obscured by a pair of round sunglasses.  He starts to make his way over to the last group of cages, looking at the motionless Bido, Ballantine, and Darius with a bit of bewilderment.

“Well, this won’t cut it,” the man grunts, putting a hand on his hip.  “I’m the kind of guy who wants it all.  But you three aren’t coming?”  He turns to look at Ballantine, squatting to the ground to reach her eye level.  “You want to get out of here, don’t you, girlie?”

Ballantine stares at him, wide-eyed.  “...My animal instincts are telling me that if I go with you, I’ll die.”

“Good grief.”  The man runs a hand through his hair, getting back to his feet.  “I’m not done with you, lady.  I’m gonna come back to ya.”  In the meantime, he strolls over to Bido’s cage.  “And what’s your deal, little guy?”

“I’m-I’m scared,” Bido stammers, stepping back from the man.

“You’re kidding me,” Bacardi mutters.

“You’re scared?”  The man claps a hand down on his bald head.  “Listen to me, pal.  You don’t have to be scared while you’re with me.  I can protect ya.  I’m pretty good at that sort of thing.”

“Uh … uh…”

“Don’t give me that,” he sighs.  “You don’t want to spend your whole life cooped up in this place, right?  That’s no way to live.  Don’t you have any dreams?  Ambitions?”

“Y-yes,” Bido whimpers, shrinking back further.  “I don’t want to die.”

“Cripes.”  Heaving a great sigh, the man turns around to look at Darius.  “And what’s your story?”

“Don’t bother with those guys,” Fieseler calls.  “Barely heard a peep out of ‘em as long as I’ve been here.  Homeless folks.  I think they actually want to stay in here.”

“Is that right?”  The man replies.  “Maybe I can change their minds.”  He turns back to Darius.  “What’s your name?”

He can feel Ballantine’s eyes burning into him.

“My … my name’s Darius.”  As he’s not used to using his voice, it comes out barely above a whisper.

“Darius, huh?”  The man lowers his sunglasses, looking him over with unnaturally-slitted pupils.  As he does so, Darius can’t help but notice a birthmark on his hand that matches one he’s seen before.  “Well, Darius, if you come with me--”

“They’re coming back,” Dolcetto announces, clearly alarmed.  “I can smell it.  If we’re gonna get out of here, can we please do it before the MPs show up?!”

“Shit, really?”  The man immediately stands up and takes a step back from Darius, readjusting his sunglasses.  “I’ll take what I can get, then.  Everyone who’s with me, let’s run!”

He starts sprinting for the door, and the others clearly follow suit.  Behind the rest of them, Bido remains in his cell.  His eyes dart back and forth between Darius, Ballantine, and the exit -- and at last, he darts out madly after the others.

“WAAAAAIIT!  WAIT FOR ME!  WAIT FOR ME, PLEASE!”

For a moment, Darius almost considers joining him -- almost.  As he feels himself start to get up, he remembers the pain of the men slamming him against the bars, and he remembers the “zookeeper” with the birthmark so identical to the man’s, and he remembers watching Daniels’s blood-soaked corpse be thrust at his feet.

Much like with Ballantine, his instincts are saying no.

Though the doors hang open, he and Ballantine remain motionless in their cages, listening to the distant cacophony of shouting, clanging, and gunshots.  However, it isn’t until an hour later that the door to the cell block opens once more.

“Damn,” a familiar voice says as footsteps make their way down the rows.  “So they all got out, huh?”

“71 and 73 are still in their cages,” says another voice.  As they approach, Darius sees that they are visited by the “zookeeper”, as well as a few of the scientists, who drag the body of whom Darius can only assume to be Fieseler behind them this time.

“Oh?  You two are still here, huh?”  The zookeeper says, leering at Darius and Ballantine.  “I’m impressed.  So obedient!  You passed the test -- if you’d tried to run, you would’ve ended up like your friend here.”

The zookeeper, much like the man who’d come before them, squats down to his knees to look at Darius with the same slitted eyes.  “Are you wondering why we haven’t closed the doors to the cages yet?  Well, you know what they say … once you’ve broken an animal’s will, that’s when you can start to train it.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Over the next year, Darius and Ballantine undergo a rather strict military training regiment, having to adjust quickly to doing an enormous amount of physical activity as opposed to the minute amount they’d been allowed to undergo in captivity.  They learn a number of other things, on top of that -- history, the sciences, how to drive, how to behave in military decorum.  

Perhaps most significantly, they learn a truth sparse told throughout Amestris, that being their government is truly run by a group of strange, artificial beings known as homunculi, led by the Good Gentleman who wishes to help Amestris prosper more than any other nation in the world.  As elite Special Operative soldiers, it is the duty of the chimeras to keep the public at peace and away from troubling knowledge that would cause unrest, which most of the time means guarding the laboratory in which they were “created” from civilians, though on rare occasion it means undertaking a mission to silence or capture someone who might know too much for their own good.

It is on one of these rare occasions many years later that Darius is approached by the homunculus Envy (the “handler”, the “zookeeper”), who wishes to talk to him away from Ballantine, and he finds himself assigned to a particular mission up in the north.

“You’ve been doing well, lately,” Envy tells Darius.  Though Envy has taken on the appearance of a regular military officer as they walk to the Central train station, Darius would be remiss to not recognize the sound of his voice.  “Outperforming that other woman, for sure.”

“Thank you,” Darius answers.

“Though, that’s not the only reason I called you out here for this,” Envy says.  “One of our best chimeras met with a … what I’d call a little accident, recently.  Lucky for you -- opened up the opportunity for you to move up in the ranks.  Exciting, right?”

“Oh … yeah!”  Darius cracks a smile.

“Knew you’d be happy about that,” Envy chuckles.  “See, I need our four best chimeras for a little job up north at Fort Briggs, and you just happened to make the cut.  You’re assigned to protect and assist Special Operative Kimblee under his command while he tracks down a few runaways.  The serial killer, Scar; and one of our potential sacrifice candidates, Doctor Marcoh.”

“Just two people?”  He queries.

“Believe me, I don’t get it either,” Envy huffs.  “But Scar’s proven himself as dangerous as he is slippery -- he’s been taking down State Alchemists left and right, and his alchemy’s something like we’ve never seen before.  You’re to kill him on sight, if possible.  But we need Marcoh alive.”

“Alright.  That doesn’t sound too complicated--”

“Hey, I’m not done, moron,” he interjects.  “There’s another one of our sacrifice candidates up north as well.  The Fullmetal Alchemist.  Heard of him?”

“...Kind of?”

“Yeesh.  Like I said, he’s another sacrifice candidate, but he knows too much, so we’re keeping an eye on him.  Not killing him.  We’re actually hoping he can help us out with our operations up there, but Kimblee wanted some leverage on him.  So your first job is escorting Ms. Winry Rockbell to Briggs -- she’s our hostage.”

“Hostage.  Got it.”

“Speaking of…”  As they reach the train platform, before them are three other men clad in military uniform, who salute as they approach.  “He’ll be joining the three of you from now on.”

“This your last-minute replacement for Krieghoff?”  A heavyset man with a ponytail grunts.

“Yeah, he’ll do fine,” Envy shrugs.  “Maybe show him the ropes a little, Heinkel.”

“Sure,” agrees Heinkel, a bespectacled man with meticulously combed hair.

“Question,” asks a man with sharp, rigid features.  “We’re under Kimblee’s command for this mission.  What should we do if something happens to him?”

“I’d think you wouldn’t be so inept that you can’t just carry the mission out on your own,” Envy answers, rolling his eyes.  “But if you think it’s too much for you to handle, you know where to reach me.  Or Wrath, if you think it’s that serious.  Anyways, I’ve got better things to do than pal around with you animals.  Have a nice trip.”

The four of them watch in silence as Envy begins walking back across the platform to the entrance.

“Better things to do,” the heavyset man scoffs.  “Maybe he should go get some better clothes.”

Darius is the only one who laughs at the joke.

“Darius, right?”  Heinkel asks, looking him in the eye.  “Never seen you before.  Didn’t even know we had another division of chimeras.”

“It’s, uh, not a very big division,” Darius explains.

“Jerso and Zampano,” Heinkel announces, gesturing towards the other two chimeras.  “You were briefed before you arrived, correct?”

“Yeah, we’re, uh, escorting a hostage first, right?”  Darius replies.  “We need to rough her up or anything?”

Heinkel frowns.  “What in the world made you think that?  No, we’re not going to ‘rough her up’!  She doesn’t even know she’s a hostage!  She just thinks we’re escorting her up north.”

“Girl’s a teenager, too,” Jerso points out.  “Damn, we better not have to lay a hand on her.”

“I, uh, was not aware she was a teenager,” Darius says sheepishly.

“Daughter of the Rockbells,” Zampano recounts.  “Guess she’s Fullmetal’s automail mechanic, too.  Thinks she’s just headed north to upgrade his gear.”

“Poor kid,” Jerso sighs.

“Speaking of…” Heinkel makes a gesture as the train begins to pull into the station, the air humming around them.

“Keep on the lookout for her,” Zampano says.  “Blonde girl.  Lots of piercings.”

Heinkel nudges Darius.  “Just follow our lead.  Don’t clue her in that anything’s wrong.  Act professional.”

“Lay off, I’m not an idiot,” Darius retorts.

The four don’t need to wait for very long, as a girl fitting Zampano’s description emerges to the platform.  Without hesitation, the chimeras walk over to her, with Darius just falling in line behind them.

“Ms. Rockbell?”  Heinkel asks.

“Oh!  Yeah, that’s me,” Winry says with a bit of surprise.

“We’re here to escort you personally to Fort Briggs,” Heinkel tells her.  “On behalf of Mr. Kimblee.”

“Really?  That’s thoughtful of him,” Winry smiles.  “You wouldn’t happen to know where I transfer to the northern railroad line, would you?”

“Right this way, miss.”

The chimeras begin taking Winry through to the opposite end of the station, and it’s only a fifteen-minute wait for the train to arrive before they board.

“Hope you’ve all got your tickets,” Winry jokes.

“We get to ride free,” Jerso chuckles.  “One of the perks of being in the military.”

“Need help with your luggage?”  Zampano asks, as they reach a number of open seats.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Winry says as she starts lugging her suitcase to the overhead.  Regardless, Zampano and Heinkel pitch in to lend her a hand, lifting it with relative ease.  Winry sits down under it, and Heinkel suddenly nudges Darius again, gesturing for him to sit in the seat opposite her.  Heinkel sidles in after him, and so as not to crowd Winry, Jerso and Zampano go to sit in the seats opposite theirs.

It’s about ten minutes later when the train starts to move out of the platform, and that’s when Winry decides to strike up a conversation.

“So, you’re all military, right?”  She asks.  “Do you all know Ed?”

“Ed?”  Darius asks.  “Who’s—“

Almost imperceptibly, Heinkel nudges him.  “You’re talking about the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric, aren’t you?  Heard a lot of things about him, but I can’t say we’ve ever met him.  Though we’ve been informed that you’re a close friend of his.”

“We’ve known each other our whole lives,” Winry tells them.  “Guess you could say he’s like family.  Still, though — it never ceases to amaze me how stupid he can be sometimes!  He’s lucky Mr. Kimblee invited me up north to take care of his automail.  Having the wrong automail in that climate can really damage the skin around it, you know.  Although, lately it seems like I have to fix up his automail more and more often.  He keeps throwing himself into all these crazy, dangerous situations!  And that’s not even counting the time when he just took his own arm off on purpose just so he could win a fight.  Lucky I was there that day … oh, my goodness, I’m rambling, aren’t I?  Sorry, it’s like I completely forgot about you guys!”

“No need,” says Heinkel.  “Continue, if you like.”

“No, enough about Edward — goodness knows I need to take my mind off of him,” Winry replies.  “So, have you been up to Briggs before?”

“Can’t say I have,” Heinkel answers.

“I’ve never been up north at all,” Darius ventures.  “Matter of fact, I’ve never been on a train — what ?”  When Heinkel nudges Darius again, he shoots him a glare.

“Oh, right!”  Winry removes a rectangular box from her satchel.  “I ended up baking an apple pie this morning to bring to Ed — but he’s way too puny to eat it all by himself … and I’m still sort of perfecting the recipe … how would you like to taste-test for me?”  Removing the lid, she reveals a lattice-crust apple pie.

“I’d love a piece, actually,” Darius says.  When Heinkel nudges him this time, Darius elbows him back, hard.  

Winry pays little mind, taking out a disposable knife and napkin from the box and cutting a small sliver of a piece for Darius, passing it to him.  Though he has a bit of trouble containing it in the napkin, as soon as Darius takes a bite, he is delighted by the sweet and decadent taste.

“Wow, this is delicious!”  Darius exclaims.  “And you baked this all by yourself?  That’s incredible.”

“I’m glad you think so!  Would you like a piece, too?”  She asks, turning to Heinkel.

“I couldn’t possibly take some of your pie away from you and your friend,” he answers.  “I barely know you, after all.”

“I think he really wants a piece,” Darius insists, elbowing Heinkel several times for good measure.  “See him?  He wants a big slice of apple pie.  He’s watering at the mouth for it.”

“Haha, okay, you can cut a piece for yourself, if you want,” Winry says, passing the box over to Heinkel.  

Though he regards it with some hesitation at first, Heinkel gives in and begins cutting a very small piece of pie as well.  Finishing off his own piece, Darius hazards an amused glance at Heinkel as he takes a bite himself.

“It’s delicious,” Heinkel agrees.  “Thank you, Ms. Rockbell.”

“You’ve got crumbs in your mustache,” Darius points out, and Heinkel nudges him again.

Winry begins to snicker.  “Well, I can tell you guys are pretty good friends.”

“Wh—friends?”  Heinkel splutters.  “I—“

In his confusion, Heinkel accidentally flips over the pie box still sitting in his lap, and its contents spill out onto the floor.  Though he’d kept his composure so well before, Heinkel now appears mortified.

“I am so sorry, Ms. Rockbell,” Heinkel apologizes, hastening to try and salvage the box.  “Please forgive me.”

“You ruin that girl’s pie, Heinkel?”  Jerso calls from the booth across from them.  “Shame on you.”

“Ah, no, it’s okay!”  Winry says, bending over to help him and examining the destroyed top portion of the pie.  “It looks like the crust was too mushy, anyway.  Ed probably wouldn’t have liked it.  That’s alright!”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Darius replies, trying to mop up the floor with the napkins.  “That was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten in my whole life!  Seriously!”

“You think so?”  Winry smiles.  “Well, I guess I know to stick with that filling!”

Though Winry is smiling, Darius can sense some underlying vitriol towards Heinkel that she seems to have decided against acting upon.  As everyone gets settled back into their seats, the conversation dwindles to nothing, as Darius and Heinkel seem in less mood to converse.

The train ride extends late into the night, and when they finally pull into the last stop, Darius and Heinkel help Winry retrieve her luggage from the overhead compartment and join Jerso and Zampano in escorting her off the train.  

The four of them stand over Winry in the lobby as they wait for the northern soldiers to arrive, but it’s not long after that they witness two cars park in front of the doors to the station.  Two uniformed soldiers emerge from each vehicle, along with a man in an impeccable white suit, who wastes no time in approaching and entering the lobby.  Looking at the chimeras briefly before fixing his gaze to Winry, the man flashes a smile at her.

“My apologies for making you wait, Miss Rockbell,” he greets, taking his hat off of his head and putting it to his chest.  “My name is Solf J. Kimblee.  It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” she rejoins.  “Thanks for giving me the heads-up about Ed, really!”

“Is this your bag?”  Kimblee bends to pick up Winry’s suitcase as Zampano takes her other bag.  “Let me take that for you.”

“Oh, thank you!”  Winry hops up to follow him out as Heinkel holds the door for them.

“And you must be my new soldiers from Central,” Kimblee nods.  “I trust the trip here wasn’t too difficult to make?”

“No, sir,” Jerso says as the rest of them make their way out into the freezing night air.  As they reach the cars, the two soldiers waiting outside get up to open the doors to the cars.

“After you, Miss Rockbell,” Kimblee says, gesturing to one of the cars.  “You’ll be riding in the other one, Major?”

“Actually,” the Major says cautiously, “I’d better ride with you, too, on the way back.  Best for me to keep an eye on Ms. Rockbell as well.”

“Shame to leave your other car behind,” Kimblee laments.

“Looks like you’ve brought four men with you perfectly capable of driving it.”  The Major steps forward and gives Darius the keys.  “You drive, don’t you?  Follow us back to the Fort.”

“Uhh, sure,” Darius says, somewhat dumbfounded.

As everyone piles into the two cars, Darius starts the ignition, slowly following after Kimblee’s car as it pulls out into the road.

“Kimblee’s about what I expected him to be,” Heinkel observes.

“Guess you’d know,” Jerso says.  “You see how that Briggs boy was scared of having one of us in the car with Kimblee?  Probably worried we’d overpower ‘em or something.”

“Nothing stopping us from driving this car wherever the hell we want, either,” Zampano jokes.

“Want me to stop and get us some food?”  Darius grins.

“Let’s just keep on track to the Fort for now,” Heinkel orders.

“It was a joke,” Darius grumbles.  “You’re uptight, you know that?  All that crap earlier with you elbowing me whenever I said something you didn’t like.”

“Oh, I was just giving you a hard time.”

“So you do have a sense of humor,” Darius replies.  “Couldn’t tell.”

Though Heinkel frowns a bit, Jerso and Zampano begin laughing from the backseat.

“That was priceless, though,” Zampano snickers.  “When you flipped over the whole pie tin!”

“And he got all embarrassed,” Jerso adds.  “Never thought I’d see that from Heinkel.  Losing his cool.”

“Can’t help it sometimes,” Heinkel grumbles.  “Get taken over by my animal—“

“Animal instincts?”  Darius finishes.

“Yes,” Heinkel agrees, starting to laugh a bit himself.  “Exactly.”

“Uh-huh.  That’s an excuse only a chimera can make.”

“What kinda chimera are you, new guy?”  Zampano asks.

“Gorilla.  You guys?”

“Boar,” Zampano answers.  “Jerso’s some kinda toad, I think.  Even he’s not sure.  And Heinkel’s a lion.”

“Lion, huh?”  Darius asks.  “Didn’t think lions were supposed to act like wusses.”

“Thanks,” Heinkel says.  “And you’re about as smart as I’d expect a gorilla to be.”

As laughter fills the car again, Darius starts to feel as though he’s fitting in with the others better than he’d hoped.

----------------------------------------------

“Damn,” Greed curses.  “They took half the money, too.”

The Devil’s Nest hasn’t exactly been ransacked, but there are certainly a few things gone that had been there the night before.  The other chimeras have scrambled around as well to look for what else had been stolen, and are putting effort into damage control.

“I think it was just that and the two cognacs,” Roa notes.  “Oh, and your sunglasses.”

“Yeah, that’s the worst part,” Greed sighs.  “My favorite pair!”

“I bet it was Bacardi who took ‘em,” Dolcetto suggests.  “She needs them more than you, to be fair.  But we’ll get you some new ones, boss.”

Greed blows out a puff of air.  “Nothing pisses me off more than people stealing from me.”

“I’m mad, too,” Martel grunts.  “Want us to go after them?  Chances are they couldn’t have gone far.”

Greed seems to consider it for a moment.  “Nah.  Try as I might, I can’t exactly send my men to hurt a couple of ladies.  Might be a different story if they show their faces around here again.”

“So that’s pretty high up on your hierarchy of moral codes,” Dolcetto jokes.  “Good to know.”

“Hey, this is just a temporary setback,” Greed says, pointing a finger in the air.  “That’s the thing about losing stuff -- I won’t throw a fit if I can just get more stuff to replace it.  Easy as that.  Hell, we can even replace Hennessy and Bacardi.  I wouldn’t mind raiding another lab or two.”

“Not like we needed ‘em in the first place,” Roa shrugs.  “The two were always a bunch of oddballs.  They weren’t really with the rest of us, either -- kind of in that other group of civilian folks … with, uh, Ballantine, think her name was, and … and … and Bido.”

Roa trails off as he takes notice of Bido, who’s been standing rather quietly amidst them.

“That’s cool!”  Greed says finally.  “We still have Bido!”

“Hey,” says Dolcetto, “You knew Bacardi, right?”

“Um, yes,” Bido nods.

“She didn’t say anything to you before she left?”

Bido hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head no.

“That’s cold,” Martel says, shaking her head as well.  “So they ditched you to run off on their own.  Sorry, little man.”

“Well, that’s okay,” Bido reassures them.  “I would rather stay with Mr. Greed, anyways!”

“There we go!”  Greed says, grabbing his shoulder.  “You stick with me, and good things’ll come your way, my henchman.  Same goes for the rest of you.”

“I don’t think I could ditch you guys even if I wanted to,” Dolcetto grins.  “Guess it’s just one of my canine traits.”

“Hey, when you’re with me, you get to dream big,” Greed adds.  “Whatever we want, I can make it happen.  Nothing’s impossible!”

Chapter Text

The group makes good time in their journey on foot, and manages to reach Dublith in a matter of days after their car accident.  Though Ling isn’t exactly the one doing the walking, it’s just as welcome a sight to him as the rest when he sees the tall buildings of the city in the distance.

“Finally,” Darius huffs.  “I can’t wait to eat real food again.”

“Good thing we managed to limit the rations to just you and Ed in the end,” Heinkel says.

“For the record, watching you hunt and eat wild animals alive was disturbing,” Ed tells Heinkel.  “Please never do that again.”

“I’m sorry, would you rather have starved?” Heinkel shoots back.

“I’m just saying, you could’ve maybe gone off in a corner to do it?”  Ed suggests.  “Away from the rest of us?”

“What corner?  There’s nothing around but barren wasteland!”

“It’s not barren!  There are trees!”

“I thought it was pretty funny,” Greed ventures.  “Heinkel, the invasive species.”

“Anyways,” says Ed, “I’m actually glad we’re in Dublith.  There’s some business I wanted to attend to here myself.  And maybe we can do that first, if Greed doesn’t mind.”

“Uh … yeah, sure,” he agrees.  “What kinda business?”

“This is where my teacher lives,” Ed explains.  “I, uh, was actually hoping to tell her about the Promised Day.  Maybe if we’re lucky, she’ll give us a place to sleep.  I wouldn’t count on it, though.”

“Your teacher,” Greed repeats.  “I think I remember her.  Is she the lady who tried to beat the snot out of me?”

“Yeah,” Ed laughs.  “And she’ll probably do the same thing to me when I show up at her doorstep, if she doesn’t kill me first.”

“No offense, but this lady sounds scary,” Darius responds.  “What was she, your history teacher?”

“My alchemy teacher,” he clarifies.  “Taught me almost everything I know.”

“Hey, maybe she can teach me alchemy!”  Greed suggests.

“I--hey!  What could you learn from her that you couldn’t learn from me?!”

“Well, this lady taught you everything,” Greed argues.  “Maybe she can figure out why I can’t do it.”

“That’s a good point,” Edward replies.  “I should warn you -- her training regiment is pretty sadistic.  Though I don’t know how eager she’ll be to teach you after you kidnapped my brother.”

“What?  Kidnapped?  You’ve got it all wrong,” Greed protests.  “Well, at least, it wasn’t me personally who kidnapped him.  Asked my goons to invite him over for a chat and a drink.  Guess they made him a little nervous, so there was a scuffle, and we ended up having to drag him back.  Buncha rascals.”

“Well, if you think that makes it any better,” Ed sighs.  “Still, I don’t get why you wanted your body transmuted to a suit of armor if you’re already immortal.  That’s what you wanted to know, right?”

“Your brother made the same point,” Greed chuckles.  “But homunculi aren’t truly immortal, you know.  We die eventually, and die I did.  The funny part was, you were the one who transmuted your brother in the first place, right?  So you were the one we should’ve gone after to begin with.”

“Then I might as well give you the answer now,” Ed says wistfully.  “Even if you’d had your soul transmuted, you still wouldn’t be completely immortal.  Your existence would be bound to a blood seal on the object your soul was transmuted into.  If that were to break or be tampered with, your life would end all the same.”

Though he seems almost stunned for a moment, Greed soon bursts into a fit of laughter.  “Good to know, Ed!  Good to know I lost it all for nothing.”

Ed appears to regret his words, and he seems to be looking for something else to say, but has nothing.

“Well, you’d better lead the way from here on, Fullmetal,” Heinkel tells him.  “But let’s keep an eye out for the MPs.”

Silently, they walk through the city with their heads low, passing through streets sparse with people as the sun begins to set.  Thankfully, they don’t see anyone in military uniform through the area in which they travel, though Greed casts a bit of a wary glance down the alleyways.

“Is this familiar to you?”  Ling asks.

“Yeah,” Greed answers.  “This is my city .  These are my streets.  Used to walk down this way every other week and grab doughnuts for everyone from the bakery.”

“Is that it?  The bakery?”

“Oh … yeah.”  Greed trails behind the others a bit, staring into the window of “Maggie’s Patisserie”.  “Wonder if that old lady still works there.”

“Couldn’t hurt to check.”

“Later.  Guess we should see this teacher of Ed’s.”

Even so, along the way Greed manages to point out a few other memorable locations to Ling -- the apartment where Roa’s old war buddy used to live; the billiards hall where Dolcetto and Roa would visit during the summer of 1911 when Dolcetto had discovered his competitive streak for it; the street cafe from which Bido had favored the custard pie; Martel’s favorite tattoo parlor that sat above the barber shop.  It’s more information than Greed usually acquiesces to share with him, but Ling can hardly offer any complaint, as he seems to be in a reminiscent mood.

“Oh, Curtis Meats,” Greed points out.  “Never been in there, but Dolcetto ordered from them a few times.”

“Okay, we’re here,” Ed declares.

Greed blinks.  “Huh?  Your teacher lives at the butcher shop?”

“She and her husband run it,” Edward explains.  “For our sake, I hope Sig is the one who opens the door.”

“Yeesh,” Darius says, putting a hand to the back of his neck.  “Want me to take one for the team, Fullmetal?  You can hide behind me.  Greed, too.”

“Dunno if she’ll recognize me,” Greed shrugs.  “But go ahead.”

Ed leads them to the door of the Curtis home adjacent to the shop and gestures for Darius to knock, and he does so with some trepidation.  A minute passes without answer, and Darius knocks again, to no avail.

“Yeah, figures,” Ed sighs.  “It’s probably both of them working today.  Let’s go through the shop … you first again, Mr. Gorilla.”

They loop around back to the storefront, and the shop is certainly open for business today.  Darius goes in ahead of the rest of them, the bell tinkling as the door opens.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Curtis!  You’re back early--?”  The man at the counter does a double take at Darius.  “Oh, I’m sorry!  Thought you were someone else.”

“Hey, Mason,” Edward greets from behind Darius, as Heinkel and Greed sidle in after him.

“Oh, hey Edward!”  Mason greets back.  “Wow, did you get even taller?”

“Ahaha … you think so?”  Ed says, seeming a bit flustered all of the sudden.  “Um, anyways!  Is teacher around?  Or Sig?”

“Uh, no, actually,” Mason says.  “A couple months ago, they went on a trip up north, said they were gonna be gone for a while.  They left me in charge until spring.”

“U...until spring?!”  Edward exclaims, clapping a hand to his forehead in disbelief.  “What the hell are they doing up there?”

“That’s where they met, you know!”  Mason says.  “Back when Mrs. Curtis was first training as an alchemist.”

“What are they, back for a second honeymoon..?”  Edward says through gritted teeth.  “They didn’t leave you with a phone number or anything?”

“They did, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with them as of late -- sorry, Edward,” Mason says.  Suddenly, he blinks and turns to Heinkel.  “Oh, you must be Edward’s father!  Pleasure to meet you.”

“What!?”

“I’m not,” Heinkel says flatly.

“We don’t even look related!”  Edward fumes.

“I think you look related,” says Darius.

“Sorry about that!”  Mason says, putting his hands up.  “Mrs. Curtis told me a bit about how she met your father, Edward -- tall blond man, glasses, astounding facial hair.  I just assumed.”

“Astounding in what way?”

“Well, I guess we don’t have the same dad, Ed,” Greed laments.  “My dad doesn’t wear glasses.”

“Shame, though,” Mason says, putting his head in his hand.  “Mrs. Curtis told me that if Mr. Hohenheim did stop by, I should feel free to put him up in the house while they’re away.”

“Is that so?”  Heinkel says.  “Oh, my mistake.  See, I am actually Mr. Henhoheim, but I got confused because I don’t consider Edward my son.”

“Okay, I’m not stupid.”

“That was a good try, though,” Edward reassures him.

“Let us squat in the house,” Greed demands.

“Okay, I don’t even know who most of you guys are,” Mason argues.  “Mrs. Curtis might be okay with Edward staying here -- emphasis on might -- but I don’t know about the rest of you.  Are you friends of Edward?”

“Honestly, we’re just following him around,” Darius shrugs.

“Mrs. Curtis and I are already acquainted,” Greed adds.  “Name’s Greed.”

“...Get out.”

And so, the group is unceremoniously shooed away from Curtis Meats, and shuffles back out into the street.

“What’s so great about Hohenheim that he has more right to stay at the Curtis’s house than me?”  Ed grumbles.  “What’d he do, heal her chronic illness or something?”

“That guy was definitely messing with us,” Darius decides.

“Well, it’s getting dark,” Heinkel observes, looking at the sky.  “We should find somewhere to stay pretty soon.”

“Not to worry, my henchmen,” Greed pipes up.  “We’re in my city, and I know a great place to stay.”

----------------------------------

“Well, this is surprisingly nice,” Heinkel comments.

“What do you mean, surprisingly?”  Greed asks.  “I’ve always had good taste.”

“Well, just taking into account how cheap you said the rates were,” Heinkel elaborates.  “Looks well-furnished.”

The group stands in the lobby of the first hotel that Ling has been in since his stay in Central City, and he can’t exactly disagree with Heinkel -- it does look awfully nice for what he’d been expecting.

“I wouldn’t exactly call Dublith a tourist trap,” Greed shrugs.  “Not like they’d charge you a mint here.  I’m sure it’s a different story in the other major cities.”

“Think they have room service here?”  Ling asks jokingly.

“If they do, you’re not ordering any.”

Leading the group (for once, Ling muses to himself), Greed walks up to the counter, nodding hello to the bleary-eyed, middle-aged clerk as he begins rummaging for his wallet.

“Need a room for the night,” he tells her.  “Three adults and one child.”

“I don’t think Edward qualifies for the child discount,” Darius whispers to Greed.

“What do you mean, he doesn’t?”  Greed hisses back.

“Child under the age of ten needs to be accompanied by a parent,” the clerk explains in a nasally voice, not seeming to question Edward’s age.  “One of you his father?”

“I am--”

“I’m his father,” Darius says in a panic, accidentally talking over Heinkel.  Clearly confused, the clerk raises an eyebrow.

“They -- they’re both my fathers!”  Edward stutters, wrapping an arm around Darius and Heinkel each.  “Yep.  My two dads.”

“That’s us,” Heinkel agrees.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to assume nothin’,'' the clerk says, writing down information on her memo pad.  “What name should I put you under?”

“Uh…”  Greed starts, looking to Darius.

“LeCoulte,” Darius blurts out.

“Alright,” she replies, writing some more.  “2,200 cens for the night.  Wanna open a tab?”

“Sssssure,” Greed says.

The clerk takes out a key from behind the desk.  “Room 203.  Stairs are to the right over there.”

“Thank you.”

Without another word, the four make their way to the stairwell and begin to walk up to the room.

“That was embarrassing,” Heinkel mutters as soon as they’re out of earshot.

“Well, at least we committed to the bit this time,” Ed volunteers.  “...As much as it hurt my dignity.  I don’t look like a ten year-old, right?”

“I guess I’d say more like twelve, thirteen,” Darius answers.  “Somewhere in that range.”

“Eugh.”

“So, do I get to be the uncle?”  Greed asks.

“You’re the grandpa, obviously,” says Ed.

“This again.”

As Greed reaches the room and unlocks the door, the rest crowd in after him.  The room is a bit more cramped than expected, with little room to move around the furniture, but they all mostly seem a bit dismayed (but not surprised) at the sight of there being only two beds.

“Dibs on sleeping in the chair,” Edward calls out immediately.

“Then I’ll take the bed closest to the door,” Greed announces.

“Hey, be considerate,” Darius complains.  “There’s not really enough room for me or Heinkel to sleep on the floor, and someone has to.”

“Hey, we’ve got two two-person beds here,” Greed says, patting his bed.  “Obviously, this one’s all mine, but there’s plenty of room in the other.  Share with your husband.”

Heinkel makes a noise of discontent.  “Okay, you know we’re not actually--”

“What’s wrong, you don’t wanna be married to Gorius?”

“God’s sake,” Darius mutters, putting a hand to his forehead.

“I -- that’s -- it’s not that I -- we’ve only known each other for a few months,” Heinkel stammers, his face turning about as red as Darius’s.

“Greed, you’re smaller,” Ed points out.  “There’d be more room if one of them shared with you, right?”

“Be honest,” says Greed.  “Does anyone in this room actually want to share a bed with me?”

“...Yeah, I guess it’s better if me and Darius share,” Heinkel says, turning to the bed.

“It’s too bad Ed’s teacher wasn’t home,” Ling says as Greed starts to get under the covers of his own bed.  “Who knows — maybe she really would’ve taught you alchemy!  Although, maybe Ed really was teaching you the same way she would have.”

“Hey, Ed,” Greed asks him from across the room.  “How’d that lady teach you alchemy?  Same way you were trying to teach me?”

“Not exactly,” Ed replies.  “Me and Al already knew some alchemy by the time we met her, but we actually didn’t even really start out doing alchemy with her.  She made us live on a deserted island for a month, first.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” says Greed.  “I could probably do it.”

“Yeah, you could, but you wouldn’t learn anything from it,” Ed says, tilting his head up to the ceiling.  “Seeing as you’re immortal.  But it was to teach us the lesson that one is all and all is one.”

“Is that another little rule like equivalent exchange?”

“Kind of,” Ed answers.  “Since I can’t exactly throw you on an island to fight for your life, I’ll just tell it to you for your fourth lesson:  all is the universe, and one is me.”

“...I don’t get it.”

“You gotta let me finish,” he scolds.  “The ability of the all to move forward is dependent on the one.  The universe is incomprehensibly vast.  There are stars, planets, things beyond us that you and I have never seen before and never will.  But that universe is made up of smaller things that keep it turning.  Animals.  Plants.  People.  We all live in a cycle.  We are born.  We live.  We eat, breathe, and sleep, and then we die.  But the world keeps on going even after you die.  Your body decomposes, becomes nutrients for the soil.  The soil springs forth the plants.  Animals eat the plants.  People eat the animals.  It all comes back around.  The universe lives in a constant cycle, just like alchemy itself.”

“Heh.  Funny how you’re telling this to a guy who’s already died before,” Greed laughs.  “I didn’t exactly decompose or nothin’.  My pops sorta returned me to his, uh, body, and then he pissed me back out into Ling.”

“Ew,” Darius says.

“I guess the homunculi are sort of an anomaly in the cycle of life,” Edward muses.  “From what I know, they can’t reproduce … they don’t age … and if what the Colonel told me is true, there’s not a trace of them left after they die.”

“Before we get too off topic, do Gorius and Heinkel break the cycle too since they’re people and animals?”  Greed jokes.  Darius and Heinkel, who are sandwiched together a bit uncomfortably in the other bed, shoot him tired glances.

“Guess it wasn’t very apropos of me to break people and animals into two categories,” Edward notes.  “Humans are an animal species, after all.  Animals who eat other animals.  And by definition, a chimera is two or more animals combined together with alchemy.  Can’t really say part-human, part-animal.  It’s redundant.”

“Well, it sounds more like a philosophy lesson than an alchemy lesson, anyways,” Greed points out.  “One is all, all is one.”

“It’s, uh, supposed to give you a greater understanding of why alchemy works the way it does,” Ed shrugs.  “A give and take.  Again, putting one thing in to get something better out of it.”

“And how does dying of thirst on a deserted island teach you that?”

“That’s where you’ll find the cycle of life in its prime,” Edward yawns.  “You need to hunt and forage food for yourself to stay alive.  Find the will to keep moving, to adapt, to live beyond what you’ve consumed … but, like I said, the cycle of life doesn’t apply to you, Greed.  Anyways, we can talk about this more in the morning; I’m tired.”

Shutting off the lamp, Ed closes his eyes and folds his arms as he leans back in the chair. The only light source in the room now is the faint streetlamp glowing from the window, and Greed’s eyes dart over to the other bed, where Darius and Heinkel are trying to fall asleep as well.

“Ed’s wrong,” Ling says suddenly.  “The cycle of life does apply to you.”

“Does it, now.”

“You were created, Greed,” Ling tells him.  “Just like everything else in the universe!  You were created from a philosopher’s stone, which was created from the souls of humans.”

“But it’s not like I cycle out,” Greed points out.  “If I die for good, there’s nothing left of me.”

“Ed only thinks in physical terms,” Ling argues.  “Even after you die, you’ve left behind an impact in the world.  Those you interact with are changed by you.  They remember you.  The world is different because you existed.”

“Huh … okay.  Yeah, you’re right, Ling.”

“I like it, though,” Ling continues.  “One is all, all is one.  In Xing, we have something similar.  We learn of the Dragon’s Pulse -- the flow of chi that stretches from the lowest river to the highest mountain.  Everything and everyone in the world is connected by it.  Even homunculi have chi! ”

“Man, Ed’s gonna be so embarrassed when he wakes up,” Greed says.  “I bet he doesn’t even know what chi is.  I know I don’t.”

“And he’s technically wrong about homunculi not aging,” Ling points out.  “Even if that only applies to certain homunculi.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot...”  

Greed had not remembered it as well as Ling, but Bradley had told him one afternoon a bit about his own experience in becoming the first human-based homunculus.  Bradley had seemed to retain a memory of his life before he’d become a homunculus, but didn’t seem entirely sure of his own identity -- whether it was that of the human who had existed before Wrath, or perhaps another.   

Greed had asked if Bradley had another soul within him, like himself, to which Bradley had said: “Not a single one, except for my own.  Even the other homunculi tell me of the amalgamate of lost souls that swirl within them, but I am lucky enough to be alone inside my own mind.”  

He’d gone on to mention that he’d been “born” when his human body was in its twenties, but had continued to age many decades past (to his own ire, as his joints were now oft to ache).

“You might age, too, you know,” Ling tells Greed.  “Which is a good thing, since I’m sure you don’t want to be in the body of a fifteen year-old forever.”

“Kind of weird to think about,” Greed admits.  “I guess I’ve never, uh, physically aged before.  Came out of the metaphorical womb as a grown man and stayed that way for a couple centuries.  Never had puberty or, uh, arthritis?  Would’ve been nice to be able to grow a mustache, though.”

“Bradley has arthritis and a mustache.” 

That’s true,” Greed says.  “And I guess maybe eventually I’ll get old and grey, too.”

“I wonder what happens if you live past the normal human lifespan,” Ling ponders.  “Older than old.  Most humans don’t live past a hundred, you know.”

“Well, I guess I’ll think about it in a hundred years.”

Slowly but surely, a cacophony of snoring begins to erupt from the bed next to Greed.  He turns over to his side, facing the wall.

“...Hey, Greed?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you die?”

“...My old man boiled me alive in a vat of molten gold.”

“Ouch.  Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Greed tells him.  “I’ll get him back next time I see him.”

Greed turns over a few times more before he finally drifts off to sleep, and Ling finds himself in an unusual, yet familiar dream.

He is running through the back alleys of Central City, now the sewers where Lan Fan had disappeared into -- or, at least, he thinks that’s where he is.  It’s dark, but he keeps running until he stops dead, unsure of why he was running in the first place.

“It’s frustrating, getting old,” a voice booms.  “Your body stops moving the way you want it to.  I’ll be turning 60 this year, and it feels like I’m getting more brittle by the minute.”

Ling looks behind him, and Lan Fan and Fu stand poised before him with their weapons drawn, ready to defend him, and he wants them to stop, tries to run towards them, but he moves as though running through water and can only watch as the figure moves forward and slashes through them, and they crumple to the ground.

Ling’s movements slow to the point where he is almost frozen, and he watches as the Ultimate Shield starts to crawl up his hand to his forearm, but the figure lunges faster than Ling can see and cuts it off before it can spread further.  Over and over he feels blades skewering him, and at last they pause, pierced through his throat.

“Tell me, Greed … how many times am I going to have to kill you before you stay dead ?”

In the middle of the night, Ling wakes up gasping for air, and barely even notices he’s back in control of his body, if only for a moment.

--------------------------------------

“I have plans today,” Greed announces over breakfast.

“Do they involve us?”  Ed asks, glancing a bit warily out the window of the hotel.

“Hm … guess they don’t have to,” Greed decides.  “You can take the day off, if you want.  Optional.”

“Oh, really?”  Ed grins.  “Finally.  You know, I might actually do a little shopping -- Dublith has a pretty stocked market square.  Maybe I can rustle us up some disguises or something.”

“You and what money?”

“Ahaha…” Ed reaches out a beckoning hand towards Greed, who exhales a deep breath before getting his wallet out.

“Your budget’s 3,000 cens,” Greed tells him, putting the money down in his hand.

“More generous than I’d expect from you,” Edward notes.

“Hey, I’m greedy, not selfish,” Greed retorts.  “Never been opposed to sharing my stuff, so long as it’s on my terms.  It’s just that it still belongs to me.”

“Good to know.”

“Might as well join you,” Heinkel grunts.  “Probably better if you’re not on your own, Ed, in case something happens to you.”  He elbows Darius.

“What?”  Darius hisses.  “What, do you want me to go with Greed?”

“Someone should keep an eye on him,” says Heinkel.  “For the same reason.  There could still be military here in Dublith.  We all need to be careful.”

“Didn’t see that concern a month and a half ago when you ditched us.”

“Huh,” says Greed.  “Actually, yeah, why don’t you come along, Gorius?  I’m inviting you.”

“Any particular reason why?”  Darius suddenly appears stony faced.

“Just feel like you should,” Greed shrugs.  “Plus, I’m your boss.”

“...Alright.”

As they clean up, the four of them begin to walk out of the hotel together, pausing outside on the street.  Edward turns to Greed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Greed,” Ed tells him.  “And … I’m sorry.”

Greed gives Ed a bemused look and bursts out laughing, taking his hand off his shoulder.  “Nothing to apologize for, kid.  I’m responsible for my own mistakes.  Let’s move, Gorius.”

“See you guys later,” Darius says, turning to follow Greed down the street.

“This is just going to make it hurt more, Greed,” Ling advises.

“I know what I’m doing,” he retorts.  “I’ll be fine.”

“Uh, you mind if I ask where we’re going?”  Darius asks, dumbstruck.

“Ed already figured it out -- guess he would know.  Little trip down memory lane,” Greed tells him.  “My old stomping ground here in Dublith.  The Devil’s Nest.”

“So that’s where you used to live, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Greed nods.  “Guess you could say it’s the missing piece of my memory puzzle.  Yeah, I’ve got a good feeling about that.”

“Yeah.  Okay.”

They don’t walk for too long, in fact, when Greed stops in front of a boarded-up building.  It appears that the sign that once hung over it has been taken down, as evidenced by the washed-out indent above the door.  Nobody is out and about in the area, thankfully, and the building has evidently been long since vacated.

“Good thing I brought you along, Gorius,” Greed says to him.  “Use your freakish gorilla strength to get it open.”

“Is that the only reason you brought me with you?”  Darius gripes as he starts stripping off the planks.

“Nah, you’ll see.”

Once the entrance is unsealed, Darius and Greed press onward as the stairs lead them underground.  Greed feels his heartbeat quickening in his chest, suddenly.  Ultimately, he decides that Ling wasn’t completely wrong -- perhaps he wasn’t quite ready to return to the Devil’s Nest.  As soon as he looks upon the main room, he feels as though he’s been hit in the head with a hammer.

It’s empty.  Ransacked.  Well, not completely -- there’s the couch, the bar counter, the shelves, the poker table, broken shards of glass splintered across the floor.

“Don’t know why, but I was sort of expecting an actual living space,” Darius says.  “This is what, a bar?  Gambling parlor?”

“My bar,” Greed nods.  “You could say it’s seen better days.”

“You really just … lived here?”

“Yeah, I did.  If you’re wondering if my henchmen lived here, answer’s no.  They, uh, slept in the apartment complex across the street.  Most of the time, anyways.  Bido usually just crashed with me here.”

“Makes sense,” Darius says.  “Bringing back any memories yet?”

“I dunno,” Greed says, rubbing his head.  Despite his uncertain answer, Greed does suppose things are coming back to him -- he remembers late nights spent playing cards with Roa, drinking contests against Martel that he’d always win, the night where Dolcetto roped Bido into trying to bake something with him (it had ended disastrously).  Almost instinctively, Greed begins stepping through the glass on the floor, making his way over behind the bar counter.

“There anything back there?”  Darius asks, glancing at Greed while he examines the couch set.

“Lot of it either got smashed or taken,” Greed observes, looking through the darkened shelves.  “Wait a second…”  He ducks his head under the counter, finding a prize on the inside shelf.  “Aha.  Vodka.”

“Wow, congratulations,” Darius says.  “Never liked it much, myself.  Tastes like lighter fluid.”

“You can’t just drink it straight, you know,” Greed chuckles.  “Tastes better as a cocktail.  Dolcetto was uh, pretty good at making them.  Maybe I can make us some mixed drinks.  Let me see if there’s anything else back here…”

“Well, to your credit, you’re handling this better than I thought you would,” Ling commends him.  “But I’d remind you, though, you have to be an adult to drink in Amestris.”

“Good thing I’m an adult.”

“I, uh, had a mixed vodka once before, actually,” Darius tells him, leaning against the bar counter.  “At a bar in Central.  It was alright.”

“What was in it?” Greed asks, managing to fish out a half-empty bottle of wine. 

“Vodka, vermouth, cognac, angostura bitters.”

“I ain’t heard of that last one,” Greed says, continuing to rummage.  “We might have vermouth, but we’ve never stocked cognac.  Not since, uh … hm.  Cocktail shaker’s still here.”

Through his foraging, Greed manages to assemble the vodka, half a wine bottle, a swig left of amaretto and a crusted bottle of molasses.  He decides to toss a generous amount of each into the cocktail shaker, and pours the concoction into two dusty, tall, chipped glasses that seem to have survived the best.

“Probably’ll taste foul,” Darius complains.

“I’m fifteen, Greed.”

“Cheers,” Greed smiles, lifting his glass up to Darius.  He lifts his own and clinks it against the other, and they both take a drink of the cocktail.

“‘S not that bad,” Darius comments.

“Yeah, it’s alright.”

“Are the memories flooding back?”

“You know what?”  Greed says, leaning against the counter.  “When I got my memories back the first time, it all just kind of came at me at once.  Like in flashes.  It was, it was, at first I was so disoriented, panicking, Ling was screaming his head off at me, I-I didn’t think it was me, it was like I was looking at another person’s memories, and I … after a while I realized that it was me.  That was my life.  But now that I’m here, I think … maybe I got back everything I was supposed to get back already, since I’m not getting the flashbacks.  Ergo, I just have a shit memory.”

“Oh, alright,” Darius says, taking another swig.  “So nothing, then.”

“Nah, well, stuff’s coming back to me,” Greed argues, also having another drink.  “I completely forgot, but there was this time when um, I tried to take over Dublith officially.”

“Bet that was a disaster.”

“Didn’t turn out as bad as it could’ve,” Greed laughs, already refilling his glass.  “Uh, it wasn’t this big doomsday plot or anything.  I was trying to finesse ownership from the mayor; had Bido send him a message, I’d give him knowledge privy to few other humans.  Secrets about Amestris, and all that.  He didn’t take me seriously, but he sent me this big phony certificate that said I was the owner of Dublith.  We all thought it was priceless.  Hung it on the wall back there.  Joke’s on him.  Dublith belongs to me, whether my name’s attached to it or not.”

“Oh, yeah, sounds like you’re remembering all the important stuff,” Darius snickers, starting to refill his own glass as well.

“Hey, I haven’t even gotten to the elephant in the room yet,” Greed continues.  “And I figured this one out a little while ago, actually.  We have met before, Gorius.”

For the briefest of moments, Darius looks like a deer caught in headlights — then his expression changes to a scowl.  “Knew you were gonna bring that up at some point.  God’s sake.”

“I asked you that forever ago.  Lied to my face and said you didn’t remember.”

“Well, I didn’t realize at first,” Darius defends himself.  “Took me a bit to figure out it was you.  You do look different, after all.”

“That stubborn bastard who wouldn’t leave the cage,” Greed recalls.  “You and, uh, what’s her name, help me out here--”

“Ballantine.”

“Ballantine.  She’s not exactly easy on the eyes, is she?”

“She’d crush your windpipe for saying that,” Darius warns.

“What was her excuse?  Animal instincts?”  Greed quickly drains his second glass.  “Seems like I hear that a lot from chimeras.”

“I’d think you of all people might get it,” Darius grunts.  “It’s not all that different from your situation.  You share your body with Ling.  And you hear his voice whispering to you in the back of your head, right?”

“Uh, well, yeah.”

“It’s a bit the same for us, you know.  Once we become chimeras, we’re not really individual people anymore.  We’ve been fused with another animal; it’s two souls in one body.  And the animal instinct is the voice in the back of our minds.  The voice that tells us ‘this is dangerous, this is safe, this is what you need to do to survive’.  It’s a voice that doesn’t know a human language, but we understand it all the same.”

“Does the, uh, animal swap places with you sometimes?”  Greed asks, half-serious.

“Eh … sort of, but it’s more complicated than that.  But I have more in common with you than I do with a regular human, Greed.”

“That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Greed chuckles.  “The chimeras said something along those lines to me for years, but I never really got it until now, I guess.  Suppose we really are kindred spirits.”

“Suppose so.”

“But, uh, what I really wanted to ask … why’d you stay in there?  You could’ve left, too.”

“Few reasons,” Darius explains.  “One of them was my animal instincts.  Told me it was dangerous.  Early on, I watched one of the other chimeras try to escape; he was shot and killed on the spot.  And, uh -- this one’s probably the funniest -- I didn’t trust you because of that little tattoo.  The same one Envy has.  And for the longest time after, we really thought that the whole situation was Envy testing us.  We thought it was one of his disguises, and all the chimeras who left were tricked and killed.”

“You thought I was Envy?”  Greed says.  “Don’t insult me like that.”

Darius pours the last of the cocktail mixture into his glass.  “Well, I’m glad you’re not Envy.  Can’t stand him.  One of the chimeras that left with you did get killed right away, though.  Fieseler.”

“That his name?”  Greed says.  “Almost forgot about him.  Once we got outside, he ditched the rest of us, and we never saw him again.  Just assumed he was off doing his own thing.”

“Weird to think that you really were all fine out there that whole time.  Living free in Dublith.”

“Yeah, uh…” Greed looks down at the counter a bit.  “I guess you sort of knew all of them before I did, right?  When you were in the laboratory.”

“Well, you probably know them better at this point than I do,” Darius replies.  “Martel, Roa, and Dolcetto — they weren’t in with us as long, maybe a few months at the most.  They talked a little about how they served in Ishval, but I guess they weren’t there very long either.”

“Yeah, Martel was stationed at the border, though,” Greed recalls.  “They said they preferred to hang around with me, since the alternatives were the lab or being court-martialed.  Guess soldiers don’t get a lot of options … Roa had a daughter.  A family.  But he couldn’t go back to them.  Deserter status aside, he was … he said being a chimera made him a different person.  Personality and appearance.  They wouldn’t hardly have recognized him.”

“Yeah … I was pretty scrawny before I became a chimera, if you’d believe it,” Darius adds.  “I’m surprised Heinkel’s sister recognized him so easy.”

“Well, I guess you weren’t in the room for it,” Greed says.  “But she was scared of him at first, actually.  About how different he was.  Used to be such a sweet and gentle man, apparently.  Said there was something wrong and cold about his eyes … imagine, going back to your family and they don’t see you as you anymore.  Some monster that’s just wearing your skin.”

“Just like you, Greed!”

“Wouldn’t know,” Darius says flatly.

“Though, back on topic -- I know, uh, Bido didn’t exactly serve in Ishval.”

“No, he didn’t,” Darius confirms.  “Well, I knew Bido the longest out of everyone else you mentioned.  About two years.  Our first group of chimeras, we were all vagrants off the street.  Me, Daniels, Hennessy, Bacardi, Ballantine, Bido, those guys.  Those last three, they all knew each other growing up, I guess.”

“Did they?”  Greed says with some surprise.  “He, uh, never talked about it much.  Never really knew about his life before he became a chimera.  Didn’t talk much about himself in general.”

“Sounds about right,” Darius nods.  “He was one of the quieter ones.  More of a follower type.  Though, I guess I could’ve said the same about myself.  But he was nice enough.  A good friend.”

“Uh-huh.”  Now that the cocktail has run dry, Greed takes the rest of the vodka and pours it in his glass.

“Careful.  You trying to black out or something?”

“Homunculi don’t get drunk as easily,” Greed explains.  “I’ll be fine.”

“I just worry about the prince,” Darius points out.  “You’re in a human body, you know?  And he’s what, eighteen?”

“Fifteen.”

“Hm.”

“Wish this place was in its former glory,” Greed laments.  “We had a dartboard.  Could’ve played a round or two.  Martel was actually really good at it.”

“I’m actually not so bad at darts,” Darius grins.  “I’d probably have kicked all your asses.”

“If you say so,” Greed laughs, starting to wobble a bit.  “You wonder what it would have been like?  If you’d come here with us, I mean.  Back then.”

Darius seems lost in thought for a moment.  Greed supposes it was a bold question, but an interesting notion.  It might’ve been a lot of fun, having him around.  He’d probably have gotten along well with Roa and Dolcetto.  Beaten him a few times at cards.  Would’ve made for an intimidating bouncer.  Maybe--

“Yeah, it’s probably better that you didn’t,” Greed says somberly.  “You had, you’d be dead right now.”

“Sorry,” Darius says.  “You kind of mentioned it before, but Bradley raided this place, right?”

“Killed everyone.  Took everything … it was my own damn fault.”

“It’s not like you’re the one who killed any of them.”

Greed laughs strangely.  “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t drawn attention to myself.  It was the same day we got talking to uh, Ed’s younger brother.  Little runt showed up himself, MPs must’ve followed him, and the rest was history.  Should’ve known better than to get tangled up with the goddamn military.  My crew didn’t want anything to do with them in the first place.”

“Well, don’t blame yourself,” Darius tells him.  “All of that was Bradley, not you.”

“Um…” Greed puts down a hand to steady himself as he makes his way out from behind the bar.  “I just remembered.  I think I left something in the back room.”

“Might be gone.”

“Couldn’t hurt to check.”  Greed starts walking towards the back hallway, and Darius gets up to follow him.  It becomes darker and more difficult to see as they move further from the entrance, and they end up fumbling around in the darkened hallway.

“You smell that?”  

“You know my nose isn’t as good as yours.  What is it?”

“Reminds me of how Arthur Planinshek smelled,” Darius comments.  “Foul.  Something’s living down here.”

“You mean like an animal, or--?”  That’s when it hits Greed.  It’s an insane notion, but maybe there’s still a survivor.  Someone who never left.  He has little time to fully mull it over, as he’s more wired than normal, and begins shaking involuntarily as they reach the back room.

“You okay?”  Darius asks.

Greed stumbles a bit, grabbing onto Darius for support and clutching his arm tightly.  “I don’t know.”

“You’re not going to have a breakdown, are you?”  Darius pats his back, trying to be supportive.  “Easy, there.”

“I think I’m alright.”  Greed begins walking forward, peering around through the darkness.  As he suspected, the room is mostly empty, save for the remains of Edward’s alchemical “adjustments” to the floor, but he sees a dark shape in the corner.  As he bends down to take hold of the object, he realizes he’s found it.

“Find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Greed nods.  “My favorite pair of sunglasses.  Still here.  Smashed to shit, though.  I’d only wear these now if I wanted to stab my eyes out.”

“Guessing the military did that.”

“Oh yeah, I remember now,” Greed says.  “I got into a scuffle with Fullmetal, and he tore up the room while I had these lying on the ground.  I took them off so Roa could smash my head off.”

“...Mind if I ask why?”  Darius asks.

“That-that was a little bit we did,” Greed explains.  “To show people that I was a homunculus.  Since I could just regenerate my head.  Always thought it was pretty funny.”

“Probably should’ve put them in a safer place, first, if you wanted to keep them,” Darius notes.

“Probably,” Greed repeats.  “I went through fifteen pairs in seven years.”

They both laugh for a bit, if only half-heartedly.  Slowly, Greed starts to get up from the floor.

“So, Gorius,” he says, “You can, uh … can you track scents?”

“I mean … yeah, I guess.”

“Can you find the source of that smell?”

Darius wrinkles his nose.  “Are you sure?”

Greed nods.  “Definitely.”

“Okay,” Darius says, grabbing his shoulder.  “Follow me, then.”

Darius navigates them out of the room and further down the hallway, at the end of which is a large and slightly-ajar hatch.  Below is a rung ladder that leads down into the sewers.

“What’s this doing down here?”

“Yeah, we had a little back exit to the sewer,” Greed explains.

“This is where you fought Bradley,” Ling announces.

“Very observant.”

Greed and Darius continue to climb down, finding themselves in an area that’s somewhat easier to see in than the hallway.

“This feels familiar,” Ling says.  “This feels … wrong.  Turn back, Greed.”

Greed ignores Ling, and continues on as Darius points ahead.

“Now that we’re down here, the smell’s worse,” Darius complains.  “Like rot and decay.  Like a dead animal.”

“Let’s keep moving,” Greed insists.  “I think … yeah, there might be someone still down here.”

“Don’t do this, Greed.”

“Up there,” Darius says, pointing to figures on the ground up ahead.  “That’s where it’s coming from.  You see that?”

Greed begins running ahead, sloshing through the shallow water, the smell now ripe in his nose.

“Greed --”

Roa and Dolcetto.  Cut to ribbons.  Decaying.  Maggots crawling through their rotting flesh and bones, through their nostrils and bloated eye sockets.

“What were you expecting, Greed?  After all that, what were you expecting?”

Shakily, Greed drops to the ground, his breathing heavy and ragged, the smell making him sick to his stomach.

“Oh.  Oh, God.”  Darius reels as he approaches.  “I-I didn’t realize they left any bodies behind.  They … were killed by the military, right?”

Instead of responding, Greed begins heaving onto the ground, and it clouds into the water beneath him.  Darius takes a few cautious steps back until he’s sure Greed is done.  He continues to shudder, nearly immobile, and Darius slowly bends down to pick him up.

“I’m sorry, Greed,” Darius apologizes.  “There’s nobody else down here.  You’re … you’re soaking wet.  Let’s get you back upstairs.”

Still trembling, Greed allows Darius to carry him back up out of the sewer and through the hallway until they return to the main room.  He’s placed down gently on the couch, and Darius takes a seat next to him, keeping a supportive hand on his back.

“I think you got the rest of that stuff out of your system,” Darius says quietly.

With a shaky hand, Greed takes the broken pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and stares at them.  “Yeah.”

“It’s alright, now.  You don’t have to go back down there.”

“Did you see..?”  Greed asks quietly.  “They were getting … eaten.  By maggots.  It’s, uh … it’s like Ed said.  One is all, all is one.  The animals eat the other animals to survive.  They pass through the cycle.”

“Yeah … back through the food chain … we all die eventually, Greed.  Some sooner than others.  One day you might die, too.”

Greed begins to laugh a bit, seeming a bit recovered.  “Uh … yeah.  Yeah, I guess you’re right, Gorius.  All humans, plants, animals, they all die, eventually.”

“Still, though.”  Darius leans forward.  “What happened to your friends was wrong.  Their lives were cut too short.  That’s the thing about people, I guess.  Their lives aren’t so easily replaceable.  So I understand if it’s not easy for you to move forward from this, but … you’ve got time.”

Greed continues to laugh.  “It’s not like me to get all worked up over this, really.  Thing I used to tell the chimeras -- I shouldn’t be getting all pouty about losing my possessions.  I can always get more stuff to replace it, after all.”

Darius shoots him a confused look.  “Your possessions?”

“You know -- money, women, henchmen,” Greed clarifies.  “They’re all possessions.  My avarice won’t let me stop at just a handful.  I’ve always wanted more.  Never wanted to settle for just this, you know?”  Greed gestures to the room.  “Some back-alley bar, a few goons?  I want more than that.  Much, much more.  And I’ll get more.”

“So … what?  They were just expendable to you?”

“‘Course not,” Greed shrugs.  “I don’t enjoy losing my things, and I hate it when people steal from me.  But I can always find something else to replace my old possessions.  I already did.  You and Heinkel and Ed.  You all belong to me now.”

If he wasn’t before, Darius is now very visibly uncomfortable.  “What the hell are you saying?”

“Exactly what I said, Gorius.  You’re my possession--”

Without warning, Darius’s fist slams into Greed’s face, and he falls hard to the ground.

“I’m not property,” Darius growls.  “I’m not an object.  I’m a person.  You don’t own people, Greed.”

“What the hell..?” Greed starts to lift his head off the ground, rubbing it.

“Don’t play dumb.  That’s disgusting.  Treating people like animals.”

“You’re … you are an animal, Gorius,” Greed retorts.  “All people are animals.  Ed said that himself.  What’s your point?”

This time, Darius kicks Greed in his face, and there is a sickening crunch as his nose breaks.  By the time it begins healing itself, Darius is already heading for the entrance.

“Stop calling me Gorius, by the way.  It’s Darius.”

The footsteps echo and fade as Darius leaves through the exit, and Greed is alone, still on the ground, in the Devil’s Nest.

“Some people don’t really appreciate being treated like objects, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me,” Greed says out loud.  “Only that’s not what I did.”

“You called him an animal.  A possession.  What else would you consider that treatment to be?”

“Everyone’s an animal.  I already said that.  But possessions aren’t limited to objects.  People can be my possessions, too.  That’s what I’m saying.”

“But owning people -- controlling people -- that isn’t right ,” Ling says.  “ People are supposed to have rights.  Be free to do what they want, and make their own decisions.  You can decide to do whatever you want with objects, but you can’t decide to do whatever you want with people.”

“You’re patronizing me, aren’t you?”  Greed spits.  “‘Course I can’t control people.  I don’t try to control people.  Just because people belong to me doesn’t mean they can’t make their own decisions.  It just means they’re my possessions.  You have a different definition of that word than I do, I think.  I guess it’s not something I would expect a human like you to be able to understand.”

“Maybe not,” Ling decides.  “You think differently from humans because you’re not a human.  And by extent, you’re not an animal, either.  Or a plant.  Or an object.  The anomaly in the cycle.”

“There we go,” Greed says.  “But I stand by what I said.  Though maybe you don’t see it the same way, you’re still mine, Ling.  You, Gorius, Heinkel, Ed … you’re my most prized possessions.”

---------------------------------------------

“Yoki Circus,” Ed says, reading the poster aloud.  “Is that new?”

“It opened up just this past summer,” the merchant tells him.  “Little ways outside of South City.  Really quite the spectacle!  Brought my daughter there last month.”

“Is that so?”  Ed mutters.  “Wonder why it’s called that.”

“Well, is this all you’re buying?”  The merchant asks, looking down at the haul of clothes and costume pieces Edward has assembled.

“Yep.”

“Alright.  1,350 cens for the lot of it.”

Edward forks over the money and fits his purchases into a bag, going back over to Heinkel, who leans against the wall of a nearby building.

“You get everything you were looking for, Fullmetal?”  Heinkel asks him.

“Think so,” Edward says confidently.  “Military’ll have a tough time finding us with these.”  He takes out a blond, artificial beard, and holds it up to his face.

“I must say,” Heinkel says, “That is some astounding facial hair.”

“Thank you,” Edward beams.  “You need anything yourself?”

“Eh, I…”  Heinkel thinks for a moment.  “Dunno if they sell them here, but we could use some more bullets.”

“Way ahead of you,” he replies.  “I bought some alchemical ingredients that should cover making bullets, too.”

“That’s smart of you,” Heinkel compliments him.  “So I guess you’ll be able to make some more useful things on the fly … out of curiosity, is it common for State Alchemists to carry around different ingredients for their work?”

“Good question,” Ed says, putting a hand to his chin.  “I can’t say I’ve hung around too many State Alchemists, but all the ones I know personally don’t keep too much on them.  Colonel Mustang and Major Armstrong have, uh, custom-made gloves with transmutation circles for their own brand of alchemy.  And, you know, Kimblee has those tattoos.  We usually just work with what’s in the immediate environment, I guess.”

“Hmph.”  Heinkel looks up at the sky.  “When I met my brother-in-law for the first time -- that was back when he was sort of traveling around Amestris -- he would carry an enormous briefcase with him everywhere he went.  He had a whole load of different things inside it.  These reusable papers with transmutation circles on them.  Vials of different ingredients and chemicals.  I thought it was all pretty fascinating … we ended up letting him stay in the inn for free after he more or less transmuted us a new set of pots and pans.”

“Yeah?”  Edward says.  “Reminds of the first time I met my teacher -- it was the first time me and my brother had seen another alchemist, and she was pretty incredible.  Saved our town from a flood when she was just passing through, and we begged her to take us on as apprentices … did you ever try to learn any alchemy, Mr. Lion?”

Heinkel laughs a bit.  “Ah, I never had a talent for it.  Elena used to try to teach me some -- it was all over my head half the time.  Felt like I was mostly just learning elements and chemical compounds and molecular reactions.  I don’t know how to make any transmutation circles off the top of my head, but my skill level’s otherwise probably around the same as Ling’s.  Just don’t ask me to do any transmutations.”

“Hey, it’s never too late to improve,” Edward points out.  “You wanna join my class?”

“Ugh … sorry, I’ll pass,” he answers.  “Between what happened to my family, and getting experimented on by the government, and what Kimblee did to us, most of my experiences with alchemy have been negative.  I don’t really want too much further association with it.  No offense to you, of course.”

“No, I understand,” Edward says solemnly.  “I’ve seen people do some really terrible things with alchemy.  That could alienate anyone.”

“Glad you get it.  Again, nothing against you -- I’ve seen you do some incredible things with alchemy, Fullmetal.  And I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

“Thanks.”  Ed turns to look at the rest of the market.  “So, we’re done shopping.  Didn’t take too long.  Should we go get lunch or something?”

“Yeah, why not,” Heinkel shrugs.  “Know anywhere good to eat around here?”

“Only place I’m really familiar with is Curtis Meats,” Ed says.  “Although, Mason doesn’t seem too happy that we’re working for Greed; he might throw us out again.”

“Damn.”

“I did see a nice-looking bakery yesterday, though,” he recalls.  “What do you think, pastries for lunch?”

Heinkel grins.  “I’m down for some croissants.”

Ed and Heinkel spend about half an hour stumbling around Dublith to at last find “Maggie’s Patisserie” along the route they’d walked the previous day.  As they open the door to the shop, they are greeted by the kindly smile of an old woman who leans against the counter, as well as the sight of various delicacies behind a glass case.  Somewhat loudly, they can hear the sound of the radio playing from behind the counter.

“Something I can get for you boys?”  She asks.

“Uhh…”  Edward stares down at the different options.  “Can we get two croissants?  And maybe a couple apple tarts, too.”

“You’ve got it,” the woman nods, starting to take the croissants out with a napkin.  “Will that be all?”

Edward turns to Heinkel.

“Uh … you know, we could get a couple doughnuts to bring back for the other two,” Heinkel suggests.

“Yeah, two doughnuts.”

Once Ed receives the bag of pastries and pays, he and Heinkel go to sit down and eat at a small table outside, the radio still just barely audible from the slightly open door to the bakery.  The croissants, fortunately, are warm and flaky to the taste.

“So, what do you think they’re up to?”  Heinkel asks, a bite already taken out of his croissant.  “Darius and Greed, I mean.”

Ed’s expression quickly turns serious.  “Right about now, they’re probably at The Devil’s Nest.”

“The Devil’s Nest.  I’m guessing that’s a place Greed is familiar with?”

“It was the bar that belonged to him,” Edward explains.  “The place where I met him for the first time, too.  Guess you already heard that story, right?”

“Bits and pieces of it,” Heinkel admits.  “He kidnapped your brother, you and your teacher went to stop him, then the military came in and put an end to it?”

“That’s the gist of it,” Edward nods.  “Uh … yeah, it was my fault, I guess.  What happened to everyone.  The military must’ve followed me there.  It’s not exactly like I was quiet about my location.”

“But you don’t know that for sure,” Heinkel tells him.  “It could’ve been a coincidence.”

“Still,” Edward sighs.  “I didn’t do anything to stop them.  You heard Greed — they killed everyone.  And … I guess I didn’t really care at the time.  I just wrote them all off as selfish, evil goons.  Listening to Greed’s side of the story … yeah, I guess it’s not like they really meant any harm.  I was the one who started swinging my fists around, not them … and then Bradley killed them.  They were Greed’s friends.”

“That’s exactly the thing, Fullmetal.  You’re not the one who killed them.  You said it yourself — you don’t kill people.  You would never.  You don’t need to beat yourself up over it, and you don’t need to care.”

“Don’t need to care?”  Ed says brusquely.  “Of course I care.  Don’t you?”

“Most of us here have had to deal with some loss, Elric.”  Heinkel leans against the table.  “Sorry if this sounds terrible, but I’m not giving special treatment to Greed when you and I don’t exactly receive the same sympathy.”

“Oh … right.”  Edward looks down a bit.  “I guess you found out not too long ago about losing your parents, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grunts.  “Only that was directly my fault.  It was a situation that I otherwise should have had control over.  But not one that you need to care about, either.  And I need to let go of it myself, to be honest.”

“I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t care,” Ed insists.  “Actually … if it’s alright, will you tell me about your parents?”

“What?  Is this a joke or something?”

“No, really.  Tell me about them.”

“Don’t know why you want to know,” Heinkel grumbles.  “But, uh … my father inherited the inn from his father — the man who built it.  He pretty much knew all there was to know about being a homemaker.  Cooking and cleaning.  Taught us everything we knew about cooking.”

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Edward interrupts.

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself a world-class chef,” Heinkel replies.  “Just like with everything else, Elena was better at it than me.  But she took after our mother a bit more.  She was a bit of a scientific researcher until she got married to our father.  Had a few papers published in the national library.  Naturally, we had a lot of books lying around on all different things.  Like alchemy.”

“That was how me and my brother started learning, too,” Edward says.  “My father left behind so many books on it in his study.”

“Well, since we’re on the subject … tell me about your parents, Fullmetal.”

“Oh, alright.”  Ed scratches his head.  “Guess I’ll start with my dad, since there’s not much to say about him.  Bastard left us when I was barely old enough to read.  As I’ve mentioned, he looks suspiciously similar to the man the homunculi call Father.”

“Hm.  Do you know why your father left?”

“I don’t,” Edward says, shaking his head.  “He never even said goodbye to us.  I can never forgive him for that … although, I do kind of doubt that Greed and I are brothers.  I just … don’t think Father and Hohenheim are the same person.  It really might be the glasses.”

“It might be too early to call judgment on your old man,” Heinkel decides.  “He might’ve had a good reason for running off, you know--”

“I guess you would know something about that.”

Heinkel, taken aback, becomes quiet.

“No, I’m … I’m sorry,” Ed sighs.  “I …  I just don’t think my mother deserved that.  But she seemed so okay with it.  Dying all by herself, without him.  She was the one who was always there for me and Al.  Taking care of us.  And we wanted her back so, so badly.  Badly enough to…”

“That’s right … you performed human transmutation,” Heinkel finishes.  “The ultimate taboo.”

“Cost me an arm and a leg,” Edward says grimly.  “And my brother’s entire body.  Because we decided to play god.  For years and years, we told ourselves that we just had to keep moving forward and make it right again.  Find the way to get our bodies back.  To get the philosopher’s stone … don’t get me wrong, my ultimate goal isn’t to stop the military, or the homunculi, or Father.  Above all else, I need to make things right for my brother and I.”

“Fullmetal.”  Heinkel rustles in his pocket, removing a gleaming red crystal and putting it on the table.  “This is a philosopher’s stone, isn’t it?”

Edward’s eyes widen.  “How-how did you get that?  Have you had it this whole time?!”

“I found it at the bottom of that mine shaft,” Heinkel explains.  “It’s the one that belonged to Kimblee.  It’s kind of funny … I was considering giving it to Elena.  Do you think she could’ve fixed Arthur with it?”

Ed is silent for a long time.  “I … I couldn’t be sure.  The philosopher’s stone is an augment, ultimately -- it allows the user to ignore the laws of equivalent exchange and transmute without a circle.  But it can still be misused.  If she didn’t know what she was doing, she could’ve made his condition worse.  I remember you mentioned something about Arthur altering his brain chemistry.  That sounds like something which could be very easily mishandled.”

“I guess that makes me feel better, if only a little,” Heinkel responds.  “Elena was … prone to mistakes, sometimes.  When we were younger, she tried to use alchemy to heal a cut on our mother’s arm, but she, uh … without going into detail, she made it a lot worse.  After that, she had a bit of an aversion to trying to mess around with the human body, fascinated as she was by what Arthur did with his alchemy.  I really did want to offer the stone to her, but after I learned the truth about our parents, I didn’t think she deserved it.  But in hindsight, maybe it wasn’t fair to Arthur.  He wasn’t responsible for her actions, after all.”

“It’s better not to dwell on it,” Ed murmurs.  “You can’t change the past, after all.”

“But … I’m getting off track, aren’t I?”  Heinkel sighs.  “I can’t change my past, but … you can change the future for you and your brother, Fullmetal.”  He pushes the philosopher’s stone towards Edward.  “You said you’ve been searching for the philosopher’s stone your whole life.  Take it.  You can use it to get your body back.”

Edward stares at the philosopher’s stone, his expression turning to a scowl.   “I’m not going to do that.  I made a promise to my brother that we wouldn’t use the philosopher’s stone to get our bodies back.”

Heinkel blinks.  “You said you’d--”

“We were looking for the philosopher's stone,” Edward confirms.  “Until we learned what it was made from … countless humans are sacrificed to create it.  They’re still in there, suffering.  I’ve seen it with my own eyes.  I could never use something like that to restore our bodies.  It wouldn’t be right.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Isn’t it a good enough reason?”  Ed retorts.

“God … you really are naive,” Heinkel sighs.  “You won’t even use the power of a soul that’s already dead.  You know that the souls who were sacrificed can’t come back, right?  If anything, you’re doing them a mercy by releasing them.  You talked of how the cycle of life is about moving forward and allowing what has died to fuel the ability of others to keep living.  So shouldn’t that--”

“You’re starting to sound a lot like Kimblee, you know that?”  Edward snaps.  “Maybe you’re more like him than you think.  You don’t care about killing others, and you can’t bring yourself to give a shit about the dead.  Not the other chimeras; not your parents, it seems like; not the people sacrificed to make the stone … it’s still wrong.  Those people didn’t choose to die.  They didn’t choose to become a … an object.  I would be using them against their will.  It’s wrong .  And me not wanting anything to do with the stone is no different from you not wanting to have anything to do with alchemy.  Now, why don’t you put that thing away.  I don’t want to see it again.”

Stunned, it takes Heinkel several moments to take the philosopher’s stone off of the table and put it back into his pocket.  Edward slowly begins to finish eating his apple tart, and Heinkel silently begins to do the same with his food.

The rest of the street is rather silent, save for the voice quietly drawling out of the radio from the bakery.  Though it’s less perceptible to Edward’s human ears, Heinkel is able to hear the news announcements playing.

“...A few announcements in today from the Southern Command Center -- as of this past Monday, a ceasefire has officially been ordered in Fotset, the second to be ordered since the fighting began in 1911.  Representatives of Aerugo will be brought into South City to potentially negotiate terms of peace and possible redistribution of land.  In addition, residents of Southern Amestris are advised to be on the lookout for three fugitives operating under the names of Mr. Darius, Mr. Heinkel, and Mr. Ling Yao.  Mr. Darius is described as being about 210 centimeters tall, Amestrian, mid-to-late 30s, brunet, and having large sideburns.  Mr. Heinkel is described as being about 200 centimeters tall, Amestrian, mid-to-late 30s, blond, having a mustache, and wearing glasses.  Mr. Ling Yao is described as being about 180 centimeters tall, Xingese, late teens to early twenties, having long black hair worn tied back, and sporting a tattoo on his left hand.  Mr. Darius and Mr. Heinkel are charged with military desertion and theft, and were aided and abetted by the illegal alien Mr. Ling Yao in the abduction of the Fullmetal Alchemist, Mr. Edward Elric.  Mr. Edward Elric is described as…”

“Fullmetal, we need to get back to the others,” Heinkel warns.

“What’s the problem?”  Edward scowls.

“The newscast is telling everyone we’re wanted men,” Heinkel says, jabbing a finger towards the bakery.  “We’d better grab them and get back to the hotel.  Where’s this Devil’s Nest place?”

Edward huffs, grabbing the bag of pastries as he gets up.  “Follow me…”

Heinkel accompanies Edward as he treks through various alleyways and streets, not commenting when Edward occasionally backtracks and turns around with uncertainty.  Heinkel is just about to ask Ed if he’s lost, in fact, when they come out of an alley to see Darius leaning against the wall of what appears to be a condemned building, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.  Even considering the circumstances, Heinkel is especially relieved to see him.

“There you are, Darius,” Heinkel says.  “Where’s Greed?”

Darius jabs a thumb towards the entrance to the building, still glowering.  “Probably still inside.”

“Probably?”  Ed queries.

“Didn’t see him leave,” Darius shrugs.

“You mind helping us look for him?  We need to get back to the hotel.”

“You go on ahead, I’m fine out here,” he grunts.  “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna run off.”

Edward gives him a hesitant nod, then walks in down the stairwell with Heinkel close behind him.  Though dimly lit, Heinkel is able to easily see his surroundings, and spots amidst the room’s rubble that Greed’s foot is poking out from behind a couch set.

“He might be in the back room,” Ed mutters.

“Over here,” Heinkel says, stepping over to see a body lying flat on the floor.

“Heinkel?”  Greed says, picking his head up to look at him.

“Greed!”  Ed exclaims, walking over as well.  “Why are you on the ground?”

“I fell over,” Greed explains.  “Ling and I have been chatting down here.”

“Your face is all dirty,” Ed observes.  “Did something happen?  You get injured?”

“Yeah, I got my face kicked in.”

“How did … actually, I’m not gonna ask,” Edward decides.  “Get up and come with us back to the hotel.  We need to discuss some things.”

“Sounds good to me,” Greed says, hopping to his feet.  “Sick of this place, anyways.”

“Seriously, though.”  Edward gives Greed a concerned look.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grins.  “Flattered that you’re so worried about me.”

“Whatever.”

The three of them head out of the building to find Darius still waiting for them, and he and Greed barely look at each other as they start walking back towards the hotel.  The rest of the walk is spent in resolute silence, and it’s only much later when they’ve made their way back up to the room and settled in somewhat that Edward finally addresses them.

“So,” Ed says, clasping his hands together, “We’re wanted men.”

“Nooo, really?” Darius replies.  “You’re telling me that, uh, that time we got stopped by the military, wasn’t, uh, wasn’t an, uh--”

“Are you drunk, Mr. Gorilla?”  Edward asks.

“No.”

“Anyways, they put our descriptions on the radio,” Heinkel tells them.  “So the entirety of Southern Amestris is--”

“Let me tell it, alright?”  Edward interjects.  “They put our descriptions out on the radio, so all of Southern Amestris is probably on the lookout for us now, if not the whole country.  Fortunately, I’ve prepared for this exact scenario, so count yourselves lucky that I got disguises for all of us.”

Edward lays out the contents of his shopping bag, which consists of hats, wigs, facial hair pieces, and other accessories.

“You really want us to wear this crap?”  Darius says, wrinkling his nose.  “It’s kinda gaudy.”

“I have plans for each of us, so don’t worry,” Ed responds.  “The beard and the bowtie are for me, since they’re going to be expecting someone young and with good fashion sense.  This is for you, Mr. Gorilla.”  Ed hands him a bowler hat, fake spectacles, and a curly red wig.

“I’m not wearing this, kid.  It’s hideous.”

“Either that or we get caught by the military,” Ed scolds him.  “Mr. Lion gets the other hat.  You’re also going to need to ditch your glasses and shave your mustache.”

“You realize I can’t see as well without my glasses, right?  I wear these for a reason.”

“As for Greed,” Ed continues, “Your most defining features are the ponytail and the ouroboros tattoo, which shouldn’t be too hard to cover up.  You get the gloves, the other beard, and the bald cap.”

“I -- hm.”  Greed puts a hand to his chin.  “You know, bald might not be such a bad look for me.”

“There we go,” Edward grins.  “Yeah, we should all try these on -- what’s wrong?”

Greed suddenly clutches his head in pain.  “It’s Ling … he’s fighting me … doesn’t want to be bald…”

“No!  Fight him off!”

Darius opens the door to the room and begins to step out.  “I’ll play dress-up with you guys later.  I’ll be in the lobby.  Need some space.”

Edward barely seems to notice Darius as he continues trying to help Greed, and after some time Heinkel decides to slip out as well when Edward begins trying to get the bald cap out of its wrapping.

Heinkel, fortunately, doesn’t have to walk far to find Darius, who is sitting in a chair in the lobby as he said he would be.  Darius looks up, but says nothing, and Heinkel goes to sit down next to him.

“Hey,” he says quietly.  “Rough day?”

“...Guess so,” Darius replies with some hesitation.  “Just wanted a bit of a break from being around Greed, I guess.  You didn’t have to come after me.”

“I don’t mind,” Heinkel shrugs.  “I was actually hoping to get a break from being around Fullmetal.”

“Kid giving you a tough time?”

“Eh … it’s more complicated than that,” Heinkel replies.  “My fault, actually.  I shouldn’t get into it.”

“You don’t have to act so closed off about it,” Darius grunts.  “Not to me, at least.”

“Not to you?”  Heinkel asks, bemused.

“You know what I mean,” Darius retorts.  “We’re the closest in age to each other, y’know.  Ed and the prince are both teenagers, and Greed’s a hundred or something.”

“Two hundred.”

“Whatever.  Point is, we’re not strangers,” Darius clarifies.  “Hell, I’ve known you longer than anyone else in this little group we’ve got here.”

“Which isn’t that much longer,” Heinkel admits.  “Still, I suppose you’re right.  And it doesn’t hurt that we’re both chimeras.  Special Ops.  We’ve both been run through the same mill … heh.  I’m remembering the day we first met, when that Rockbell girl said we seemed like good friends.”

“And you got so embarrassed you flipped the pie over,” Darius laughs.

“Guess I don’t have many people in my life that I consider a friend,” Heinkel muses.  “Not really even in my old unit.  Jerso and Zampano knew each other before they even joined the military, but I wouldn’t say I got that close to them.  Didn’t care much for Krieghoff -- the guy we had before you.  Didn’t really expect to get saddled with you, of all people, all the way across the country on a fugitive run.”

“Hey, maybe it was meant to be,” Darius offers.  “Uh -- well, that is to say, uh…”

Heinkel has a good laugh at that.  “Maybe you’re onto something, Darius.  Well … how about this.  You tell me what’s bugging you, and I’ll tell you what’s bugging me.”

“It’s, uh … guess it’s hard to explain,” Darius sighs.  “Greed just … well, he pisses me off.  One second he’s talking about the chimeras like they’re old friends.  Then he’s talking about how they were just possessions that he lost.  Replaceable.  He called us his possessions, too, like we were placeholders for them.”

“My god.”

“It’s like the military all over again,” Darius grumbles.  “You’re just the property of the folks you work for.  You’re dead, they only care about you as a quantity, not an individual.  Guess I shouldn’t have expected anything different.  We’re just the, uh, henchmen, after all.  Sorry, that was my gripe.  You go ahead.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, then,” Heinkel replies, his expression grim.  “Thing is … I’m sure you remember when I picked up that philosopher’s stone of Kimblee’s in the mine shaft.  Fullmetal was telling me about how he’d spent his whole life looking for it so he and his brother could get their bodies back, so I wanted to give it to him.  He wasn’t happy -- said he would never use it because it was made from human souls.  Pretty much said I was a monster for telling him that shouldn’t stop him from using it.  Said I didn’t care about the people who died … yeah, he’s probably right, though.  Guess that doesn’t make me too different from Greed, as you mentioned.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”  Darius interjects.  “That doesn’t make you anything like Greed. You offered that kid the philosopher’s stone out of the goodness of your heart, and it sounds like he was a little jerk about it.”

“I have to wonder, sometimes,” Heinkel sighs.  “I’m not the same man I was before I became a chimera.  Before I joined the military.  I’ve had to leave behind some of my humanity and compassion along the way.”

“Shit, but you’re not a monster,” Darius argues.  “Not anymore than me.  I know you care.  I’ve seen you put yourself through a lot of shit for those kids -- Ed and Ling.  That’s not compassionless at all.  You wouldn’t treat people like they’re worthless objects … and for what it’s worth, you’re a damn better leader than Greed.  It’s thanks to you taking charge that we’ve gotten this far.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Heinkel laughs.  “I did leave you guys out to dry a week into the trip.”

“Yeah, you were only gone for a few hours and we almost got ourselves killed.  Shows how competent we are without you!”

Darius and Heinkel both burst into laughter, now seeming in a better mood than before.

“Well, I guess we should get back to the room,” Heinkel says, getting up.  “Or else Fullmetal will track us down and throw a fit at us, probably.”

“Yeah, good point,” Darius says, getting up as well.

-----------------------------------------------------

Early the next morning, the group gets a knock on the door of their hotel room.

“State military,” a voice barks.  “Open up.”

Everyone shoots awake just about all at once, but Greed is the first to jump to his feet.

“Don’t answer it,” Ed whispers, still groggy.  “If you don’t answer they’ll probably go away.”

“Open up,” the voice repeats.  “You have two minutes to open this door before we break it down.”

“That’s Ballantine,” Darius gasps.  “She found us.”

“She survived?”  Heinkel mutters.

“Okay, change of plan,” Ed hisses.  “Let’s open the door, but we need to put on our disguises first.  Get them on now!”

Darius fumbles around for his wig and hat while Greed scrambles to put his bald cap on.  Heinkel half-heartedly places the hat upon his head and puts his glasses into his pocket.

“One minute!”

“Mr. Lion, quick, shave off your mustache,” Edward insists.

“Oh, sure, kid, I’ll do that right now,” Heinkel says sarcastically.

“Thirty seconds!”

“I can’t get this thing to stay on,” Greed complains as his bangs stubbornly poke out from under the bald cap.

“Ten … nine … eight…”

“Greed, just get the door,” Heinkel snaps.

“Hello!”  Greed says as he opens the door, his hair still sticking out of the cap.

“Hello,” Ballantine greets back, her imposing frame taking up most of the doorway while a small group of MPs holding firearms are just barely visible behind her.  “Did you hear the news?  You boys are officially fugitives.”

“What are you talking about?” Greed asks in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice.  “We are just a simple group of associates here on vacation--”

“You can drop the act,” Ballantine cuts him off.  “Even if your disguises weren’t completely terrible, I’d know Darius’s scent anywhere.  Also, I heard your entire conversation.”

“Yeah, okay,” Greed says, throwing the cap off his head.  “You know, we’ve met before too, lady.  The name’s--”

“I already know who you are, Greed,” Ballantine informs him.  “Or Ling Yao, as I’ve heard you also go by.”

“I do not go by that name, actually,” Greed corrects her.  “Who the hell told you that?”

“The Führer,” Ballantine answers.  “Who, incidentally, is the one that gave me direct orders to go after you four.  He wants the Fullmetal Alchemist brought back alive, but he said it didn’t make a difference whether the other three made it back alive or dead.”

“That brother of mine, always trying to kill me,” Greed says, shaking a fist.

“If you come quietly, I’ll let you all live.”

“So, I’m leaning towards no…”

“How long did you think you were going to last with the entire country on the lookout for you?”  Ballantine scoffs.  “It’s not like those hideous disguises are going to do you any good.”

“Can’t say they’re as hideous as your face, lady.”

Lightning fast, Ballantine’s hand shoots out and grabs Greed’s neck, pressing against his windpipe.  A crack is heard as she throws him back across the room, Heinkel narrowly dodging as Greed lands against the wall, his neck bent at an odd angle.

“Warned you about that,” Darius says to Greed, who is still twitching on the ground.

“The rest of you don’t have to meet the same fate,” Ballantine suggests.  “It’s not too late, Darius.  If you don’t cause anymore trouble, they’ll give you a less severe punishment--”

While Ballantine speaks, Edward quickly transmutes the ground beneath him, which churns itself up towards Ballantine and her men until a fist emerges from the ground, knocking them far away and then retracting itself.

“Little trick I learned from Major Armstrong,” Ed mutters.  “Let’s get out of here while we still can!”

Quickly grabbing their things, everyone scrambles out of the room, with Greed lagging slightly behind them as he gets his neck back into place.  Darius and Heinkel fire a few shots towards the soldiers lying in the hallway as they make their way into the stairwell after Edward.

As they run out of the lobby and reach the road outside, they find a pair of military cars waiting for them, with a driver still in the seat of one of the cars.

“Get out or you’re dead,” Heinkel growls as he and Darius level guns at the driver.  “Greed, slash the tires on the other car.”

“You’re not the boss here,” Greed complains, but deigns to slash the tires with his Ultimate Shield anyways.  

Fearfully, the driver scrambles out of the car as Darius replaces him in the driver’s seat, and Edward and Heinkel follow in after him.

“They’re coming out of the building,” Greed announces as he squeezes into the backseat next to Ed.

Darius immediately slams on the gas pedal, pulling them away from Ballantine and her entourage as the air fills with the sound of screeching tires.

“Turn right,” Heinkel instructs Darius.  “South outta town.”

“Anyone following us?”  Greed asks.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Ed says, craning his neck back to look.  “Which is a first for us.”

“I’m surprised Ballantine isn’t doing her, uh, speedy giant cat routine.”

“We’re not allowed to transform in view of civilian bystanders,” Darius admits.  “She was always a stickler for the rules.  Lucky us.”

“Let’s not relax until we’re well out of town, alright?”  Heinkel urges.

Surprisingly, they manage to make it through the streets, swerving to avoid other cars and passerby, without being followed at all up to reaching the city limits.  Even Heinkel seems relieved when they begin driving through alongside the forest, a crystalline lake visible just beyond the trees on the other side.

“I can’t believe that went off without a hitch,” Darius says in surprise.  “Good idea slashing the tires, huh?”

“Yeah, all things considered this went really well,” Ed says.  “We had that whole chase we had to go through with our first car, and we had to abandon it outside Central when it started, uh … malfunctioning.  And then we drove that second car off the cliff when we were trying to get away from Ballantine … but this should probably last us a while.”

Edward comes to regret his words an hour and a half later, however, when they run out of gas.

Chapter Text

“So what are we gonna do with the car?”  Ed asks.

“Push it into the lake?”  Darius suggests.

“We might as well raid the glove compartment, first,” Greed argues.

Heinkel opens the glove compartment and looks through, making a noise of surprise.  “Good call.  There’s spare ammunition in here.  Cologne.  A road map.  Oh, and gloves.”

Once they’ve removed everything from the car, Darius and Heinkel work together to push the vehicle into the lake.

“Next question,” Darius asks.  “What do we have in the way of rations?”

“Got a week’s worth yesterday, just in case,” Ed says, checking his bag.  “Oh, I forgot!”  Edward pulls out his bag of pastries.  “Greed, Mr. Gorilla, we got these for you yesterday.  Sorry if they’re a little stale.”

As Edward passes the bag to Greed, he slowly removes one of the doughnuts inside, numbly passing the bag over to Darius.

“These are the old lady’s doughnuts, alright,” he says to Ling.  “The kind I used to get for my crew.”

“Well, are you gonna eat it?”

Greed stares at the doughnut for a bit.  “Actually, you can have it, Ed.”

“Huh?”  Ed says.  “But we got it for you.”

“You need it more than I do,” Greed shrugs, handing it over to him.  “You actually need to eat, after all.  Can’t have one of my henchmen starving.  Looks like Gorius is sharing his, anyways.”  He nods towards Darius, who is splitting his own doughnut with Heinkel.

“They’re sharing fifty-fifty,” Ed argues, taking the doughnut from Greed and tearing it in two.  “Look, we can each have a half.”

“Equivalent exchange,” Greed jokes, taking his half with a bit less reluctance.  “Sure the rations are gonna be enough for a while, though?  I remember we almost ran out the last few times.” 

“Well, you don't need to eat,” Heinkel points out.  “And I can hunt for food.”

“Uh-huh,” Ed says.  “Can’t Mr. Gorilla do that too?”

“Gorillas aren’t exactly predators,” Darius protests.  “Best I can do is forage for edible plantlife, I guess.  Either way, we’re still a long way from civilization, but it’s definitely not a great idea for us to turn around and go back to Dublith.  We might run out before we even get to the next town.”

“I can probably hunt, too,” Edward says, talking with his mouth full from the doughnut.  “I’m somewhat familiar with the ecosystem around here.”

“What, did you used to live in these wilds?”  Greed chuckles.

“You could say that,” Ed grins.  “We’re alongside Kauroy Lake.  You know what’s inside that lake?”

“Lots and lots of fish?”  Darius asks.

“That’s a good point, we could go fishing,” Heinkel adds.

“No!”  Ed says.   “Well — yes, but no.  At the center of the lake is Yock Island, which is where my brother and I did our alchemy training.  I told you guys about that already, right?  Anyways, there’s gotta be the same wildlife around here that you can find on the island.  So I’m all set.  I can get rabbit and fish.”

“Oh, so you don’t mind killing animals,” Heinkel comments.  “Good to know.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Anyways, I guess we should keep moving for now,” Greed points out.

Ed nods.  “Yeah.  Right now we should keep putting as much distance between us and Ballantine as possible.  But, first things first … we need to disguise your scent, Mr. Gorilla.”

“Sorry?”  Darius says.

“You heard her back there,” Ed replies.  “She can track you by your scent or something, right?  We gotta find something to disguise what you usually smell like.  Like … like…”

Without warning, Edward takes out the cologne foraged from the glove compartment and begins to spray Darius all over with it, who coughs and tries to bat it away.

“Yeah, that should work.  Actually, I should spray the rest of you guys later, just in case.”

“Warn me next time before you do that,” Darius coughs.

“So where are we going next, Greed?”  Ed asks, turning to him.  “Not back to Dublith, I’m guessing.  Hope it’s alright that your visit got cut short.”

“It’s fine,” Greed replies.  “Saw everything there that I needed to see.  Uh, I guess we could probably lay low for a while.  Military might be expecting us to be around civilization, so if you guys are fine just living off the land or whatever then that works for me.”

“You know how to do that thing where you purify water, Fullmetal?”  Darius asks.

“I can just do it with alchemy,” Ed grins.

“Wouldn’t expect any less from you,” Darius nods.  “What, can you hunt and fish with alchemy, too?”

“That would be a bit tougher to pull off,” Edward reasons.  “But I can definitely transmute some snares and fishing rods out of wood and the materials I brought with us.  You guys can help me set that up tomorrow.”

“But for now, let’s get moving,” Heinkel says.

“Again, you’re not the boss,” Greed mutters, but follows along with the others just the same.

“You’d think they would send someone tougher than a few military troops and a chimera to go after us,” Ling muses.  “Seemed a while ago they had a lot of homunculi to throw around.”

“That’s true,” Greed says.  “Well, uh, I’ve defected, obviously; Lust is dead; Gluttony, I think he’s a little dead, not sure; Wrath and Pride must be sitting in their little ivory tower; and Sloth is digging that tunnel, I think.  Wonder what Envy’s excuse is.”

“From what Darius mentioned, maybe Envy manages the affairs of the chimeras,” Ling speculates.  “Or the Special Ops, specifically.”

“Lazy bastard.  Should rename him to Sloth.”

“I’m guessing you’re not a big fan of Sloth, either.”

“You know?  I actually wouldn’t say I’m particularly disdainful towards Sloth,” Greed realizes.  “He’s not really such a bad guy.  Never went out of his way to piss me off.  He’s just kind of a dimwit, I guess.  Nothing against him for it.  Sorry -- made a blanket statement about hating all my siblings, but that’s not entirely true; since I don’t really hate him that much.  Gluttony neither, come to think of it.”

“Well, I won’t discredit you for it,” Ling chuckles.  “I’m guilty of the same half-truth.  I have a few siblings myself who aren’t completely terrible.  In fact, I’m on rather decent terms with my brother, Prince Han, fifth son of the Emperor.  Quite a bit older than me.  Not much of a thinker or a looker -- it’s earned him trouble securing suitors in the past, if such a thing was possible for a prince -- but he’s got a good heart, and has sent my clan and I gifts on a few occasions.  I’d say he’s a bit like your brother, Gluttony.”

“Well, that’s not good news,” Greed snorts.  “For his sake, I hope he’s not quite that simple.”

“Hm, good point,” Ling replies.  “Yes, he’s a bit more, ah, functional.”

“Huh.  Yeah, as for the rest of my siblings, they’re not as stupid, but they’re self-aware enough to know when they’re being asses.  But still stupid, though.  Following our pops brainlessly.  Like chickens with their heads cut off.  Funny how I’m the black sheep of the family just because I can actually think for myself.”

“Funny, I’m remembering when you used to do that.  After he ‘cleansed’ you, as you put it.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groans.  “Actually … come to think of it, I guess Ed is one of my only cool family members.  Funny kid.”

“Well, you don’t know for sure if you’re related, do you?”  Ling posits.

“Wasn’t it you who said some crap about not needing to be related to be family?”

“Aww!”  Ling exclaims.  “That might be the most sentimental thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Wait, what?  No!”  Greed says, bewildered.  “I take it back!  Don’t you tell anyone I said that, you little pissant.”  

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Ling says coyly.

--------------------------------------

Over the next few weeks, Ed manages to deliver on his promise of hunting for food, catching enough fish and rabbits to feed himself and Darius through the coming days.  It’s enough, in fact, that Greed is able to partake in meals as well (and, for one night, a particularly ravenous Ling).

Darius and Heinkel seem to spend less time around Greed, and so his afternoons are spent mostly around Edward and Ling.  Ed at one point encourages Greed to attempt fishing (to limited success, unfortunately).

There’s a particular chill that passes through the air as they draw closer to the end of the year, and it whistles through the forest one night as the group sits around a small fire.

“I saw a bear today,” Darius announces.

“Really?  That’s weird,” Edward comments.  “I’d think the bears would be starting to hibernate now.”

“Doesn’t seem cold enough to hibernate,” Darius notes.  “What’s the date again?  The 19th?”

“Yeah, winter officially starts in a few days,” Edward points out.  “We’re in a warmer climate down here, but I’m pretty sure the animals are starting to hibernate.  I’ve been seeing less and less of them out and about.”

“That’s concerning.  Do you think we’re gonna be okay on food?”

“We’re pretty stocked up as of right now,” Ed replies.  “Should last us for a few more weeks -- I can still go fishing, though.”

“Fish don’t hibernate?”

“Uh, no,” Ed snorts.  “They, uh, go into a state of torpor where they just kind of slow down.  You didn’t learn that in school?”

“Never went,” Darius grunts.

“Oh, right.”

“It’s getting closer and closer to the end of the year,” Heinkel says.  “Soon it’ll be 1915.  Hard to believe, huh?”

“And that much closer to the Promised Day,” Greed comments, leaning back.

Edward’s eyes widen.  “Right.  The Promised Day.”

“Bet you forgot about it, didn’t you,” Darius accuses him.

“I’ve got other stuff on my plate, alright?”  Edward snaps.  “You know, like making sure we don’t get caught by the military and that we don’t starve out here!  But I think we do need to talk about the Promised Day.  You owe us some information about it, Greed.”

“Oh, do I?”  Greed says.

“‘Course you do,'' Ed replies.  “That’s why I joined up with you in the first place, remember?  We already indulged you with the whole trip to Dublith.  Consider it an exchange, right?”

Greed laughs heartily.  “Alright, kid.  What do you want to know?”

“For starters, tell me when it is, exactly,” Ed says.

“Beginning of spring.  Pretty sure the brat told you that.”

“Didn’t give me an exact date.”

“Sure he did!”  Greed protests.  “The beginning of spring!  The first day.  The equinox.”

“Oh, okay, mid-March,” Edward nods.  “...Wait, that’s only three months away!”

“Yeah, it’s coming up fast,” Greed agrees.

“God, that’s so close!”  Edward says, grabbing his hair.  “Uh, okay, what was I gonna ask … what exactly is your Father planning to do on the Promised Day?”

“Well, you know he’s trying to open the Doorway of Truth,” Greed recalls.  “That’s what it all ties into, you know.  The crests of blood.  The countrywide transmutation circle.  The sacrifice candidates.  They’re all part of his ritual to ascend beyond the mortal plane of existence and obtain the Truth for himself.  Or become God, as it were.”

“Shit,” Darius says in disbelief.  “This guy you call Father … he’s the Good Gentleman, isn’t he?”

“Is that what they’re calling him?”  Greed asks.  “Guess I wouldn’t know.”

“You know what I mean.  The man who really leads this country.”

“Oh.  I guess, yeah.”

“And he’s trying to become God,” Edward says in awe.

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t believe in God,” Greed jokes.  “You’re immune to him.  But, no joke, he’s trying to sacrifice this whole country.  On top of everyone else he’s killed.”

“I figured.  But, yeah, that’s serious,” Edward says with concern.  “Then this isn’t just a chance for me and Al to get our bodies back, like Ling said.  We really need to stop Father for good.”

“The easiest way to stop him is for you to leave the country,” Greed points out with some amusement.  “You’re an important sacrifice candidate, remember?”

“I’m not running away, damnit!”  Edward protests.  “And there’s no way for me to know that he doesn’t just have another candidate up his sleeve to use.  I’d have abandoned this whole country for nothing.”

“Good point,” Greed says.  “But pops ain’t exactly the ultra-prepared mastermind you think he is.  In my opinion, at least.  He’s got a lot of loose odds and ends lying around.  Not to mention, it feels like he waited so long to make all these blood crests and collect all these sacrifices when he had, what, a few centuries to get that done?  Plus, I wouldn’t say he’s so great at managing his secret little cabal of homunculi and chimeras and military upper crust.”

“Begs the question,” Heinkel starts, “How do we factor into all of this?  The chimeras, I mean.”

“My family loves their weird little unethical science experiments, you know,” Greed shrugs.  “They wanted some more superhuman soldiers lying around for emergencies, since we only have so many homunculi to spare.  Guess it just goes to show how much I have in common with you chimeras, huh?”

“I’d rather not be compared to you any further,” Darius mutters under his breath.

“Guess I already knew that answer, then,” Heinkel admits.

“Well, it makes sense,” Edward agrees.  “The government experimented with binding souls to suits of armor like Al, too.  I met a few serial killers who were bound to armor, and they definitely knew a couple things about the homunculi, like I’m guessing Mr. Lion and Mr. Gorilla do.”

“I know one of those guys!”  Ling adds.  “He broke me out of prison.”

“So you want to take down my old man,” Greed says, putting a hand on his knee.  “That’s a pretty ambitious goal.  I like it.  How are you gonna pull that off?”

“Easy,” says Edward.  “I’ll kick his ass.”

“What, by yourself?”  Heinkel says incredulously.  “You and what army?”

“I have you guys, don’t I?”  Ed points out.

“Eh, worth a shot,” Greed shrugs.  “I’d pay to watch you and my old man go one-on-one.  Anything we can do to help you get ready?  You need a workout routine or something?  A sword?  A gun?  Gun legs?”

“Now that you mention it … there’s someone I really need to find,” Edward recalls.  “Winry Rockbell.”

“Who’s that, again?  Your girlfriend?”

“I -- you -- why would you think -- she’s my mechanic!”  Edward sputters.  “I need her to do a serious tune-up on my automail pretty soon.”

“Rockbell?”  Darius pipes up.  “She disappeared up north with your brother, right?  They could be anywhere right about now.”

“We’d have to be crazy to go all the way up north again,” Heinkel grumbles.  “Took us three months to get this far south.”

“And if you don’t actually know where she is, let’s not go off one of your little ‘hunches’ again,” Darius adds.  “You know how much good that did us in tracking down your brother.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Edward hisses.

“Hey, Ed, if you need your automail looked at, why don’t we go back to Dominic’s?”  Greed suggests.  “See Paninya and baby Arthur again while we’re at it, huh?”

“Dominic’s the one who told me to see Winry in the first place,” Edward explains.  “He said it was an adjustment that only she’d be able to handle, since it’s her automail.  I wanted to keep it a secret, but…”  He takes a deep breath.  “I’m going through a growth spurt.”

“I noticed,” Darius says immediately.

“Yeah, we know,” Heinkel contributes.

“Oh … okay.”

“But that doesn’t change anything,” Heinkel continues.  “It could take a long time for us to track her down, and we don’t exactly have time to waste if we want to get back to Central by the spring.  Same reason we can’t go after that Lan Fan girl.  Not to mention, we can’t exactly show our faces in the towns.”

“Well, there’s another option I can think of,” Edward argues.  “Uh … Winry’s grandmother, Pinako, lives in my hometown of Resembool.  She helped her engineer my automail in the first place, so she’s probably just as qualified to handle the adjustment.”

“Resembool?  Isn’t that in the sticks?”  Heinkel inquires.

“Your hometown’s so backwater the train doesn’t even stop there!”  Edward spits.  “Don’t even get me started on how unpronounceable the name is!”

“You wanna go, you little runt?”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore!”  Ed proclaims, balling his fists.  “Soon I’ll be even taller than you!”

“Before you guys start beating each other up, can we look at where Resembool is on a map?”  Darius says tiredly.

Greed digs the road map out of Heinkel’s duffel bag and opens it up, taking a few moments to scan it before he raises an eyebrow in surprise.  “That’s not too far from where we are now, I don’t think.”

“You don’t think?”  Darius snipes him.  “We don’t even know where we are right now.  We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“Not entirely true,” Ed argues, sidling next to Greed to look at the map as well.  “Kauroy Lake is pretty big, but we’re pretty likely on the south side of it here, see?  There’s probably less of a distance between us and Resembool than how far we traveled from Central.”

“Ooh, I see,” Greed nods.

“Guess that works,” Heinkel shrugs.  “Suppose we’d better start walking there soon as possible, huh?”

Ed makes a noise of discontent.  “No way we’re walking straight there.  That’ll take forever.  Here’s the thing -- we’re probably closer to South City right now than we are to Resembool.  We can head there in disguise and take a train.  The lines don’t run directly to the east, so we’ll have to cross from Central--”

“No.  Absolutely not.”

Ed squints at Heinkel.  “Sorry?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”  Heinkel says.  “You want us to go to South City, the location of the Southern Command Center, wearing those terrible and completely ineffective disguises, in the region where we’re specifically wanted as fugitives, where Ballantine is probably lying in wait for us, to take a train, which we ruled out as the worst method of transportation due to the security, and then you want to take that train to Central , where they have eyes everywhere.  You’re a lot of things, Fullmetal, but I didn’t think you were that stupid.”

“Easy there, tiger,” Greed cautions.

“Lion.”

“Are you hearing yourself?”  Edward argues.  “We can’t walk to Resembool!  It’s hundreds of kilometers away; that’ll take weeks, if not months!  On top of that, it’s winter, remember?  It’s even colder in Resembool than it is here, and it’s going to be extremely difficult to find food once we’re away from the lake.  There aren’t exactly that many towns between here and Resembool, either, so we’d be sleeping out in the cold.  Which is a great way to die!”

“Yeah, I’m with Ed on this one,” Greed provides.  “It’d be less of a hassle to just take the train, we’d have more time, and we’re capable enough to fend off any MPs who come after us.”

“My god,” Heinkel groans.  “Now you’re just being short-sighted.  It doesn’t take that long to walk a few hundred kilometers -- if we power through, we could even do it in a week and a half!  I see the military doesn’t train its State Alchemists to march.  Furthermore, not every animal is in hibernation.  I’ve gotten a few deer around here--”

“I’m not comfortable just going around killing deer--”

“I’m not done, kid.  Good to know that you draw the line at deer, though, good to know, but I’m not done.  We’re not gonna die in the cold; chimeras like us are built for surviving in all kinds of weather, Greed’s immortal, and nothing’s stopping you from building a shelter with alchemy.  Lastly, we don’t even need to walk the whole time!  When we get to a town, not right away, let’s say, we can just steal another car!  Fair?”

“Heinkel’s right; listen to him,” Darius says sharply.  “And you guys aren’t invincible from the military just because you have special powers, you know that?  What are you gonna do if we run into someone like Bradley or Kimblee?  And this goes without saying, but you really don’t want to get in a fight with any of the Special Ops, no matter how strong you think you are.”

“Okay, we’ve had a bad run of luck with cars,” Greed interjects.  “This whole trekking to Resembool thing doesn’t sound great to begin with.  And you guys seem to be forgetting the fact that Ed’s a regular human; he’s not exactly impervious to cold.  He’s still prone to getting some fatal human disease even if he does build a shelter.  We’d have better odds just protecting him from some MPs, alright?”

“What, so you think it’s better to have the military at our backs instead?”  Heinkel shoots back.

“Okay, you know what, Heinkel?”  Greed snaps.  “You need to stop undermining my authority.  You need to stop constantly taking charge.  I’m the boss of this group, not you.  Always have been.  You are a henchman.  The conversation should’ve been over when I said I wanted to go with Ed’s idea, alright?”

“Undermining your authority?”  Heinkel laughs.  “That’s cute.  You barely even lead this group.  If it wasn’t for me holding everyone’s hand, we never would’ve even made it to Dublith!  You’re the oldest one here, but you have the leadership capabilities that I would expect of a five year-old.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Greed replies.  “I’m not the one who threw a fit and walked out a week into the trip because he was scared of his dumb sister!”

“Hey, screw you,” Darius pipes up.  “Heinkel’s the one who’s been saving your asses constantly.  Do you know how much he cares about keeping you guys safe?  And at least he doesn’t treat people like objects, Greed!  Hell, he’s the only one around here who actually calls me by my name!”

“I never said I treat people like objects.  You’re putting words in my mouth!”

“Oh, I’m suuure Mr. Lion cares so much about everyone,” Edward drawls.  “Must be why he said he didn’t give a shit about Greed losing his friends.”

“You act like I don't have feelings because I’m not brooding all the time like you,” Heinkel growls.

“I never said that!”

“What the hell, Heinkel?”  Greed talks over Ed.  “You really said that about me?”

“You don’t have room to talk, Greed,” Heinkel snaps.  “You’ve never missed a chance to make a jab at my dead parents.”

“That was only like, two times!”

“Mr. Lion doesn’t even really care about his parents,” Ed informs him.  “Said he didn’t give a shit about them, either.”

“That’s not what I said,” Heinkel grunts.

“Greed, Ed, you’re being assholes, you know that?”  Darius scolds them.  “We’ve done so much for you guys, and you act like ungrateful brats about it.  We saved your life, Fullmetal.  We ditched the military and put ourselves on the lam just for you.  We let you sign our loyalties off to the homunculus just because you wanted to.  We drove you around and acted as your chaperones for months.  We saved you from getting caught by the MPs.  Hell, Heinkel offered you a philosopher’s stone, the thing you’ve been searching for your whole life, and you acted like a little shit about it.  You don’t even care.  We don’t even matter to you guys, right?  We’re just replaceable henchmen?  Is that it?”

Edward turns to him.  “You weren’t even part of this conversation, Mr. Gorilla, but if you want to drag yourself in, let’s talk about both of you.  I saved your lives!  I saved my own life!  I didn’t ask you to do anything for me after that, but you followed me around!  Hell, it would’ve been easier for me to be on the run by myself!  Greed at least has information that’s useful to me!  Speaking of, Mr. Gorilla, did you get drunk and beat Greed up back in Dublith?  What the hell was that?!”

“He deserved it!”

“Yeah, well--” Greed cuts off, wincing as he puts a hand to his temple.

“Oh, is the prince coming out?”  Darius says derisively.  “Good, I was getting sick and tired of Greed.”

“Everyone, would you stop fighting?!”  Ling exclaims, appearing to struggle with Greed for control.  “There are more important things at stake here!  You’re all friends, remember?”

Heinkel laughs darkly.  “Oh, we are not friends.  None of us are friends.  We’re just a bunch of idiots who happen to share a wanted poster.”

“But … but you said--”  Ling, who almost looks disappointed, seems to finally lose his battle against Greed.

“You know what?  You guys are replaceable henchmen!”  Edward shouts.  “Ling is my friend, but you guys are just some … jerks who used to work for Kimblee!  We don’t need you!”

“Fine by me, you little runt,” Darius says condescendingly.  “You and Greed can go on your little suicide mission by yourselves.  Guess you’ll have a much easier time without us, right?  Good for you!  By the way, you’ll never be tall enough to reach the gas pedals of a car.”

“Yeah?”  Ed replies.  “Well, you’ll … never fit in a doorframe!  Get out of here, you giant, hulking mammoths!”

“Do you smell that?”  Heinkel says.  “Smells like a bear.”

“Okay, Heinkel snapped, but can we please come to our senses here?”  Greed demands.  “We’re not splitting up, alright?!”

“We don’t need them,” Edward insists.

“Yeah, why don’t you just go find some new ‘possessions’, huh, Greed?”  Darius taunts.

“Will you listen to me for one second?”  Heinkel interrupts.  “We’re not--”

Before Heinkel can finish his sentence, several darts shoot into his and Darius’s backsides from the darkened forest behind them.

“The hell--?”  Ed starts to scramble in panic, but a couple of darts pierce into his chest and, like Darius and Heinkel, his eyes roll backward as he falls to the ground.

The last sentence Greed hears from Ling before he loses consciousness is:  “Hey, Greed, are homunculi immune to tranquilizers?”

----------------------------------------------

“You awake yet, pipsqueak?”  A gruff voice asks.

Though groggy, Edward’s eyes begin to flutter open.  “Who are you calling a—?”

Though the room is somewhat dimly lit, Edward is able to take in the appearance of the stranger standing before him — that being a rather burly woman with short-cropped hair, wearing a leotard under a suit jacket, eyes obscured by a pair of round sunglasses.  Immediately, however, he takes notice of her rather unnaturally sharp fingernails.

“Hold on,” Edward groans.  “You’re … are you a chimera?”

“Wow, do you say that to every chimera you meet?”  She asks sardonically.

“That was just a guess, actually.”

“Pretty good guess, then,”  Greed’s voice says next to him.

Edward suddenly becomes more aware of his surroundings as his vision clears, and realizes that he’s tied to the bottom of a large pole, with his hands bound together tightly in front of him.  Greed is sandwiched in next to him, in much the same situation.  They appear to be in some sort of small tent and, bizarrely enough, there are two grown tigers lounging on the ground behind the woman.

“The hell is going on here?”  Edward asks, disoriented.  “Is this some kinda circus show?”

“Yes, actually,” the woman confirms.  “Welcome to Yoki Circus.  But you’re here as a hostage, not a guest.”

“What?!”  Edward sputters.  “Wait, why is it called that?”

“The circus?  Oh, uh, little story,” the woman shrugs.  “I’m the co-owner, see, but back when we were savin’ money to open the circus, we met this ugly old ex-military man livin’ in our slum who’d come into a lot of money.  Think he either robbed it or got it from gamblin’.  Anyways, we told him if he funded the rest of it we’d name it after him and he’d be famous.  Idiot wound up broke and got run out of town later.  I like the name, though.”

“Wait, I know that verbal tic,” Greed realizes.  “Uh … uh … Bacardi?!”

“Oh, uh … yeah, that’s me,” she says in surprise.  “We met before, pal?”

“Maybe this’ll jog your memory,” Greed smiles, angling the back of his left hand towards her to the best of his ability.

Bacardi bends over and squints at it.  “Yeah, I saw that.  You’re a homunculus or somethin’?”

“It’s me, Greed!”  He says with some annoyance.  “I’m the one who told you about homunculi in the first place!”

“Mr. Greed?!”  Bacardi exclaims, stepping back.  “But you can’t be!”

“Greed, you know her?”  Ed whispers.

“You could say that,” Greed replies.

“I don’t get it, you look completely different,” Bacardi says, scratching her head.  “Plus the papers said you were some illegal alien named Ling Yao.”

“That’s the guy I share the body with.”

Bacardi gives him a bewildered look.

“Long story.  Anyways, you stole from me!”

“Six years ago, yeah,” Bacardi nods.  “What about it, mister?”

“Don’t you ‘mister’ me,” Greed scolds.  “I remember.  20,000 cens, two cognacs, and my favorite pair of sunglasses.  You’re wearing them right now!”

“You remember all that?”  Bacardi says, touching a hand to her sunglasses.  “I sure didn’t.”

“When someone steals from me, I never forget,” Greed scowls.  “And mark my words, I’ll have it back.”

“Good luck with that.  Guess it’s a good thing we tied your hands up, since I know the only thing you can use to escape is those claws of yours.”

“Why are you holding us hostage, anyways?”  Edward interrupts.  “Is this some revenge thing against Greed?”

“Haven’t you been payin’ attention?”  Bacardi answers.  “I didn’t even know it was Greed until a minute ago.  Nope, we kidnapped you folks to lure out Ballantine.”

“Oh, great,” Ed groans.  “Wait, where are Mr. Lion and Mr. Gorilla?”

“Sorry?”

“That’s not their real names, kid,” Greed corrects him.  “Where’s, uh, Huxley Heinkel and Gori — Darius.”

“Ohh,” Bacardi replies.  “We don’t like imprisonin’ our own kind much.  They’re havin’ a chat with the ringmaster.”

————————————

The first thing Darius sees when he wakes up is something he’s not witnessed in years, and that’s Hennessy flashing him one of her trademark winning smiles.

“H…huh?”

“Good morning, Darius,” she beams, starting to pour a mug of coffee from a pitcher sitting on the table in front of her.  “You sleep well?”

“...Hennessy?”  Darius blinks a few times more.  “Am I dreaming?”

“This is real life, sweetheart,” Hennessy replies, sliding the mug over to him.  “Drink.  It’ll help you wake up.”

Numbly, Darius does as he’s told, and almost instantly feels more awake after he swallows a mouthful of coffee.  Slowly, he starts to take in his surroundings a bit more -- they’re seated in what appears to be some kind of tent, and he can hear faint, indistinct chatter coming from outside it.  He and Hennessy are seated at a circular table in the middle of a tent and, with a jolt, Darius realizes that Heinkel occupies the seat next to him, albeit still asleep.  Hennessy certainly looks different from when he last saw her -- now quite a bit more cleaned up than she was when he’d seen her so many years ago, she wears a bright red jacket with a matching bowtie (which looks a bit like the one Ed tried to use for disguise, Darius muses to himself).

“This is all so confusing,” Darius says, rubbing the back of his neck.  “What the hell happened?  How did we get here?”

“Guess I owe you an apology,” Hennessy explains.  “We might’ve, uh, kidnapped you a little.  Sorry about that -- if it was just you, I would’ve asked nice, but I wasn’t sure how hostile your pals would be about it.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Darius nods.  “Wait, no it isn't!  Why’d you kidnap us in the first place?”

Hennessy laughs.  “Couple reasons, Darius -- first being, we wanted you here with us for a little reunion!  Second, in line with that, I’ve been trying to get Ballantine to come here for weeks, but she’s been ignoring us.  I brought you folks in to lure her here since she’s after you, right?  Not that I’m planning to turn you over to her at all, Darius, don’t you worry.”

“Well, you could kidnap her,” Darius jokes.

“No dice,” Hennessy laments.  “She’s got military boys on all sides of her.  You folks, on the other hand, running around in the woods on your lonesome!  Real funny.”

“God, I -- sorry, this is still a lot to take in -- I haven’t seen you in years!  Where are we, anyways?”

“Glad you asked,” Hennessy says, getting up from her chair and walking over to open the tent flap.  “Welcome to Yoki Circus!”

Darius stares in awe out at the view -- in the distance are vibrantly-colored tents, food stands, and guests gawking at various attractions and performers.

“Your dream came true,” he gasps.

“Hey, you remembered!”  Hennessy grins.  “My circus, my family.  Everyone’s welcome here from all walks of life -- the rich man, the poor man, the outcasts, the freaks, the rejects, it doesn’t matter.  Everyone belongs, everyone’s ours.”

“I -- I wasn’t sure, but I thought you were with Gr -- went with, uh, the other chimeras that left,” Darius sputters.  “I didn’t even know if you were alive or not … is Bacardi with you?”

“Sure is!”  Hennessy confirms.  “Co-owner of this circus.  She’ll be around; I’m just here making sure you and that Mr. Heinkel weren’t all disoriented waking up.”

“Oh … congratulations!”  Darius shoots a look at Heinkel, who still seems to be out, and elbows him hard in the side.

“Huh..?”  Heinkel quietly begins to stir.

“Oh, there we go,” Hennessy says, coming back to sit down with them.  “Would you like some coffee, Mr. Heinkel?”

Heinkel starts violently, almost falling out of his chair.  “Who are you?  Where are we?”

“Relax, Mr. Heinkel,” Hennessy reassures him.  “I’m a friend of Darius.  You’re both safe, don’t worry.  You’re one of us, aren’t you?  A chimera.  I can tell.”

“Uh … yeah.”  Heinkel, dumbstruck, fumbles for the freshly-poured coffee mug that Hennessy passes to him.  “You’re a … a friend of Darius?”

“Well, we were in the same laboratory,” Darius explains.  “She escaped, and, uh, now you’re the ringmaster of this circus?”

“Yep,” she nods.  “It’s Hennessy.”

“I really still feel like I’m dreaming,” Darius repeats.  “I swear, I thought you were dead!”

“Well … if you’re a friend of Darius, I guess that’s good enough for me,” Heinkel decides.  “So what happened to--”

“Mom!”  A rather young boy with red eyes as bright as his garments runs into the tent.  “Bacardi said to tell you that the tiny boy and the hu-mun-cull-us man are awake and they’re maaaaaad.”

Hennessy snickers.  “Thanks for telling me, Chase.”

“She said you need to come over and look.”

“Okay, okay,” she grunts, getting up.

Darius exchanges a look with Heinkel before speaking up himself.  “The tiny boy and the hu-mun-cull-us man, huh?”

“Think I did mention this was sort of a hostage situation,” Hennessy shrugs.  “Only I don’t go around tying up fellow chimeras, so your friends got the short end of the stick.  We’ll let ‘em loose if they cooperate.”

“Oh, those guys?”  Darius says.  “We’re not friends.  Don’t worry, they’re not with us.”

“Hostage situation?”  Heinkel inquires.

“I’ll fill you in on the way,” Hennessy tells Heinkel.

As Hennessy reiterates to Heinkel what she told Darius, they follow Chase out of the tent, passing by a fair number of costumed performers who cast inquisitive glances towards Darius and Heinkel.  Even more curiously, they cross paths with a tiger roaming free across the grounds, seemingly to no one’s concern.  Darius is about to ask about it, but decides against it once they quickly reach the tent that Chase leads them into.

Within it, Darius isn’t too surprised to see Edward and Greed tied to a pole in the center of the tent, with a woman whom Darius presumes to be Bacardi standing over them.  When she sees the others enter, Bacardi puts her hand up in greeting.

“Mr. Lion!  Mr. Gorilla!”  Edward exclaims.

“You’ll never believe this, Hennessy,” Bacardi says to Hennessy, talking over Edward.  “That’s Mr. Greed down there!”

“Well, I’ll be,” Hennessy says, squatting down to look at him.  “Mr. Greed himself!  You sure look different.  Last I checked, you weren’t Xingese.”

“Nice to see you too, Hennessy,” Greed replies through gritted teeth.  “It’s been six years, hasn’t it.  Ya still owe me.”

“Aww, you haven’t changed a bit.  Still the same whiny bastard.”

“See you’re taking good care of my henchmen,” Greed replies, glancing back at Darius and Heinkel.

Hennessy looks back at them as well, bewildered.  “Oh, no, you poor boys are working for this miserable old bastard?  He went and made you his possessions?”

“Not anymore,” Darius grunts.

“Chase,” Bacardi says, touching his shoulder.  “Why don’t you go help Wen with lunch?”

“Okay,” he nods, turning to leave the tent.  “Byeee!”

“Alright, can someone please tell me what’s going on?”  Edward demands.  “How do you guys know each other?!”

“So you’re the Fullmetal Alchemist, isn’t that right?”  Hennessy says, turning to him.  “Heard about you, mister ‘Hero of the People’.  Well, since you’re curious, we worked for Mr. Greed long ago, too, me and Bacardi here.”

“Yeah, for a few months,” Greed clarifies.

“I’m guessing you had some kind of falling-out?”  Ed speculates.

“Something like that,” Hennessy shrugs.  “Could say we left based on creative differences.  Actually, it was a few reasons.  Now, Mr. Greed ain’t an ordinary boss.  He hoards things.  Said all his henchmen were just more of his stuff, you know.  See, most of those military dogs didn’t mind being seen that way -- used to it, I guess -- but I like to think we had more dignity than that.”

“Say what you want about me, but you’ve got a lot of nerve calling judgment on my old crew,” Greed snaps.  “You barely even knew them.”

“ Old crew, huh?”  Hennessy taunts.  “They ditch, too?”

“Shut the hell up.”

“But what it really came down to was, you know, we had bigger dreams,” Hennessy continues, turning back to Ed.  “Couldn’t see ourselves spending the rest of our lives in a dingy little bar in the backstreets.  We wanted more than that.  A lot more.  Me and Bacardi, we always had this nice dream of running a big old circus, and we got ourselves one right here.”

“Okay,” Edward says slowly.  “Mind if I ask what this whole deal is with you luring out Ballantine?  How does that tie into all of this?  That doesn’t sound like such a great idea.”

“It doesn’t really tie into our history with Mr. Greed,” Hennessy says.  “Though we have got some history with Ms. Ballantine.  Not stuff I feel like disclosing to you, unfortunately.  Our terms are she has to come alone in two weeks’ time, and she is one of the rule-following types.  Warned that if she brings anyone with her we’ll just kill the alchemist, since they want you alive.  But we’re not actually gonna turn you over to her or nothing, don’t worry … well, in the planned worst-case scenario, we turn over you and Mr. Greed, actually…”

“Thanks a lot,” Ed grumbles.  “Then what about Mr. Lion and Mr. Gorilla?  I guess they get special treatment because they’re chimeras?”

“Bingo.”

“You’re not just gonna let her do this, right?”  Ed asks, shooting a pleading look towards Darius and Heinkel.

Darius and Heinkel exchange a look that lasts a few moments before turning back to Ed.

“We sure are,” Heinkel responds.  “Eat shit, kid.”

“What?!”

“It’s a shame we’re so replaceable,” Darius sighs.  “I guess you don’t really need our help.”

“No!”

“Come to think of it, we don’t even work together anymore!”  Heinkel points out.

“Alright, that worked out pretty well,” Hennessy observes.

“Are you sure about that?”  Greed pipes up, the Ultimate Shield beginning to crawl up his hands.  “Ladies, you underestimate me.”

“What’ve you got up your sleeve, Greed--”

Greed bursts into a fit of maniacal laughter as the bindings on his hands explode off of him, and he slashes through the restraints tying him to the pole.  “You forget that I’m stronger than the average human!  I am Greed the Avaricious, and I take what’s--”

“Oops,” Bacardi says as she stabs a tranquilizer dart into Greed’s cheek.  

Immediately, Greed begins to wobble and fall backwards.  Edward begins trying to escape, but soon realizes that he’s tied with restraints separate from Greed’s.

“Don’t know how far you thought you were gonna get, anyways,” Hennessy sighs.  “With your rule against fighting women, and all.”

“Oh, I’ve seen how he deals with that,” Edward says.  “He just kinda runs away, I think.”

“Anyways, these tigers will attack you if you try to escape, too,” she warns.  “They’re both ladies, if that makes a difference.  I don’t know if the rule extends to full-on animals, but I’d love to find out.”

“Shuuuut uuuuup,” Greed says deliriously as Bacardi begins tying him up again.

“Is there any reason why you don’t have them in, I don’t know, a cage?”  Edward asks.  “Or on a leash?  Isn’t that dangerous for you, too?”

“I would never, ever put my babies in a cage,” Hennessy says curtly.

“Wait, are they your actual biological children?”

“No.”

“Okay, just checking.”

Chapter Text

“Wait, is Chase her actual biological child?”

“Nuh-uh,” Bacardi tells Darius as she has the soup ladled into her bowl.  “Chase, he lost his parents in the war when he was just an infant.  The community we used to live with, they got him out of the warzone and raised him, but he didn’t really have a family to call his own.  But Hennessy knew she could love him as her own son.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Heinkel says solemnly.  “I’m glad you’ve been able to give him a good home.”

“Yeah, he’s happy here,” Bacardi says fondly.

“So is it true?”  The cook, Wen, interrogates Hennessy as he ladles out her bowl of soup.  “You’ve captured Prince Yao himself?”

“Nope,” she shakes her head.  “Guy pretending to be him, I guess.”

“That little upstart will get what’s coming to him one of these days,” Wen grumbles.

“Uh … do you have some baggage with that guy?”  Darius asks somewhat timidly.

“Prince Yao disgraced my name as an alkahestry teacher,” he seethes.  “Between having him drag my name through the gutter or going into exile, I chose the latter.  Heavens forbid should we ever cross paths again.”

“Uh, okay.”

Chase, who has already finished eating, is running around, and barrages towards Heinkel, running face-first into his leg.

“Easy, there, uh … speedster,” Heinkel tells him with a bit of hesitance.

Chase grins up at him.  “You’re a chimera, right?”

“That I am,” Heinkel nods.

“Can I see?”  He urges.

“I dunno, kid,” Heinkel says cautiously.  “We’re in broad daylight.  I don’t wanna freak anyone out.”

“Don’t worry yourself,” Hennessy laughs.  “We’re all fine with chimeras here.  And if the visitors see, they’ll just think it’s a costume, you know?”

“Guess I’m a little self-conscious,” Heinkel admits.

“Well, if that’s all…” Hennessy begins to morph into her own form of a tiger, her face growing bushy with vibrantly-colored fur.  “Feel self-conscious no more!  C’mon, you’re fine.”

“...If you say so.”  Heinkel grows a bit in size as he begins to transform into his own beast form, and Chase’s eyes light up in amazement.

“You’re a lion!”  He exclaims.  “Can I pet your mane?  Pleeeeaaase?”

“I don’t see why not,” Heinkel sighs, crouching down for Chase to be able to reach, and he begins tugging rather forcefully at the tufts of fur.

“You gonna join in, Darius?”  Bacardi jokes as she lifts her soup spoon to her mouth.

“I might rip my shirt,” Darius admits.  “How about you?”

“I’ve got it worse, in case you don’t remember,” Bacardi sighs.  “I don’t turn into a bear-person, I’m the whole bear.”

“Oh yeah.”

The tiger that’s been roaming around strides over to Hennessy and begins to brush up against her, and she begins scratching it behind the ears.

“Cats petting other cats,” Darius says.  “Now that’s something you don’t see every day.”

“This is Tyler,” Hennessy tells them.  “Big star around here.”

“So do you train them, Hennessy?”  Darius asks.  “They’re so well-behaved.”

“Well, I can sorta communicate with them.”

“No way!”  Darius gasps.  “Really?  Like, you can talk to them?”

“Well, I guess it’s tough to explain,” Hennessy says.  “Not really talking, they don’t speak, but, uh … it’s sort of like, you gotta lean into your animal instincts, you know?  And then you just kind of understand each other.”

“Yeah,” Bacardi nods.  “Like when I meet another bear.”

“You think I could do that with gorillas?”  Darius asks.

“I’m sure you could,” Hennessy nods.  “Though, the only place you could really try that is at a zoo, huh?”

Heinkel, in the meantime, has left his soup unattended, and Chase has roped him into giving a piggyback ride.

“Look at them, havin’ fun,” Bacardi chuckles.  “Seems like Chase likes you folks well enough.”

“Well, you’re both free to do whatever you like while you’re here,” says Hennessy, “But I really should formally invite you to our special show this weekend in the Big Top.  That’s when Chase’s debut performance is.”

“Performance, huh?”  Darius inquires.  “You already got him doing tricks?”

“He really wanted to.  Been begging me for weeks,” Hennessy tells him.  “He’s gonna be our new juggler.”

“Talented kid,” Darius whistles.  “Well, I know I’ll be there.  See if we can drag Heinkel, too.”

--------------------------------------------

“Take it easy, little guy,” Greed warns.  “You’ll break your fingers if you're not careful.”

About three days into Greed and Ed’s captivity, Chase learns about the existence of Greed’s Ultimate Shield, and is seemingly captivated by trying to use his fists to penetrate it.  While Greed is miffed by it, mostly, Edward seems to find it an opportunity to get more information out of him.

“So,” Edward begins, “Are you a chimera, Chase?”

“No, but I wanna be,” Chase replies nonchalantly.  “I wanna be a dog chimera.”

Ed sucks in his breath.  “Oh.”

“Or a shark.”

“I wonder how that would work,” Greed speculates.  “Being, uh, part marine animal.  Would you only be able to transform in water or you die?”

“No, I would be able to do it anywhere,” Chase tells him.

“So, what kind of chimera is your mom?”  Edward continues.

“Mom is a tiger.”

“Wait, what’s her name again?”

“Hennessy,” Greed recounts tiredly.

“Mom is the ringmaster and Bacardi’s the dancing bear,” Chase explains.  “She takes her clothes off and everyone thinks she’s a real bear!”

“Does-does she take her clothes off in front of you?!”  Edward sputters.

Chase shakes his head.

“Okay, good.”

“I wanna be a hu-mun-cull-us too,” Chase says.  “So I can have metal skin.”

“Pretty useful, huh?”  Greed beams.  “I can’t die, either.”

“Oh, okay.  Anything else?”

“Uh … oh yeah,” Greed says.  “I have another person who lives in my head.  You wanna meet him?”

“Okay!”

“Hello!”  Ling says, wiggling his hands to the best of his ability.

Chase blinks.  “Where’s the other person?”

“I’m the other person!  I’m Ling Yao, prince of Xing.”

“You’re trying to mess with me,” Chase complains.  “You said there was a littler person living in your head.  I don’t see him!”

“I’m not a littler person,” Ling deflects.  “It’s just that me and Greed share the same body!  We’re different people, but we, ah, talk out of the same mouth and all.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Well, that’s alright.”

“Wait, you’re from Xing?”

“Sure am!”

“I have lots of figurines from Xing!”  Chase announces.  “Old man Wen gave them to me.  You wanna see ‘em?”

“I’d love to!”  Ling grins.

“Okay, let me go get ‘em!”  Chase runs out of the tent, leaving Ling and Ed alone with the tigers.

“How you holding in there, Ling?”  Ed asks.  “Not starving, I hope.”

“Well, they are feeding us pretty well here,” Ling notes.  “Even me, though I don’t need to eat.  I’m surprised they make jiaozi here in Amestris!  And it’s delicious, at that.”

“Is that what Greed told you?”  Ed chuckles.  “I’m sure you have a more refined palate for it than him.”

“I had it for myself -- me and Greed feel all the same things,” Ling informs him.  “Including hunger!  That week we went without eating was tooooorture.”

“And here I thought you had some kind of disorder,” Edward chides.  “Guess he’s just better at handling it than you.”

“You could say that,” Ling shrugs.  “Well, in line with that, you’re handling being a hostage more calmly than I thought you would, Ed.”

“Look, I’m not happy about it,” Edward says under his breath.  “This isn’t good.  We’re sitting ducks waiting for Ballantine to come get us and drag us back to Central.  We need to find a way out of here.”

“Easier said than done,” Ling sighs.  “This place is crawling with people.  They’ll probably catch us again before we even make it halfway out of this tent, and they can likely track our scent.  Not to mention, Greed probably won’t let me fight any women we encounter.”

“Was that thing true?”  Ed asks.  “That Greed wouldn’t even fight the tigers?”

“Hmm … I’ll get back to you on that one…”

“He says it’s not true.”

“Shit, they took our stuff, too,” Edward curses.  “Our rations, our map, the cologne -- well, we were almost out of that, anyways -- our money, first aid, everything.  Even if we do escape we’ll barely last till we get to the next town away from here.”

“That’s true,” Ling agrees.  “On top of that, I know Greed doesn’t really want to leave without Darius and Heinkel.”

“What?  Are you pulling my leg?”  Ed asks, incredulous.  “They betrayed us, did he miss that part?  And did you forget all that crap they said at the campsite?”

“We didn’t leave things off quite the way--”

“Is Chase in here?”  Darius opens the flap of the tent, peeking in.  “Hennessy’s looking for the kid.”

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Edward groans.

“Hello, Darius!”  Ling says cheerily.

“Look who’s finally calling me by my name,” Darius says, putting his hands on his waist.  “Oh, wait.  It’s Ling, isn’t it?”

“Yep, it’s been a while,” he nods.  “Let’s talk, Darius.”

“What’s there to talk about?”  Darius grunts.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Edward mutters.

“That’s not true,” Ling insists.  “It was you who said we need to communicate like adults, Ed.  And we made a mistake by sweeping our feelings under the rug instead of sorting them out before it was too late.”

“So, what?  You want us to talk about our feelings?”  Darius says gruffly.  “Sorry, kid, but I’m not a sap.”

“Guess that particular wording must’ve offended your sensibilities,” Ling chuckles.  “But I think the problems we’re having with each other are more trivial than you’ve all made them out to be.  Darius, it’s true that you and Heinkel have done a lot more for Ed than he’s willing to give you credit for—“

“Oh, here we go,” Edward grunts.

“—But you need to give some leeway for him and Greed, too.”

“What the hell do I owe Greed?”  Darius asks him.

“It’s not that you owe him anything,” Ling explains.  “But there’s a misunderstanding here, I believe.  Greed thinks differently than you and me, you know — he is a homunculus, after all.  But he doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t help me, kid.”

“You trying to tell me that gives him a free pass to treat everyone like property?”

“You know that’s not quite it,” Ling argues.  “When Greed calls someone his possession, it’s kind of his way of saying he cares about you!”

“Will you quit embarrassing me, brat?!”

“Then he can just say that instead,” Darius points out.  “It’s less creepy, anyways.”

“Well, you know—“

“You know, your Highness, you don’t have to be Greed’s little spokesman when he’s too much of a wuss to talk for himself,” Darius interrupts.  “You’re your own person, too.  You can think for yourself.  I know you didn’t exactly have a choice in going on this little trip, and you’re not obligated to play peacemaker for the rest of us, alright?”

“Yeah, just leave it alone, Ling,” Edward speaks up.

“Please.”

Suddenly, Chase runs into the tent past Darius, tightly clutching an ornate case in both arms.

“Oh, Chase,” Darius starts, “Your mom wanted you over in the Big Top—“

“I have to show Mr. Greed my figures first,” Chase tells him, putting the case on the ground and unlatching it in front of Ling.  “Look at my dragons!”

“Oh…”  Ling quickly disguises his dampened mood by forcing a smile for Chase, gazing down at the intricate glass figurines.  “Those are beautiful!  You know what they’re called in Xing?”

“Figurines.”

“It’s the alkahestrist’s game set,” Ling explains.  “The most accomplished practitioners of alkahestry create them from the sands of the great desert as a symbol of their skill in the art.  This is incredibly valuable!”

“Like it’s worth a lot of money?”  Chase asks, his eyes shining.

“Yeah, probably,” Ling nods.  “Especially that case -- it would’ve belonged to a member of the Xingese royal court.”

“Okay!  Thanks, Mr. Greed!”  Chase closes the case, picking it up and carrying it with him out of the tent.  Darius, evidently still trying to wrangle Chase, follows him outside, leaving Ed and Ling alone once again.

“Look, I know you want us all to get along, Ling,” Ed says quietly, “But this isn’t working out, alright?”

“Ed … you called me your friend back there in the woods,” Ling reminds him.

“I … well, yeah, of course we’re friends, idiot!” Ed retorts.  “Hey, the first time we met, I thought you were a real pain in the ass, but we’ve been through a lot together since then, you know.  Enough that I wouldn’t just up and abandon you, unlike some people I know.”

“We’ve been through a lot with Darius and Heinkel, too,” Ling points out.  “I wouldn’t say nearly getting fed to Arthur Planinshek is quite as tantamount to getting eaten by Gluttony, and then getting eaten by Envy inside Gluttony, but it’s pretty close.”

“What in the actual hell are you talking about?”

“The difference is that Mr. Lion and Mr. Gorilla betrayed us,” Ed mentions.

“I did that, too!”  Ling replies.  “Remember that time you fed me lunch and then I sent my bodyguards to attack you?  And that time I broke into your hotel room and ordered everything off the room service menu?  And that time I allowed Father to put a homunculus inside me, who turned on you right away?”

Edward begins laughing hard.  “That’s right, you still owe me for all those meals you mooched off of me!  You’re not getting away with that!”

“I’ll pay you back tenfold when I’m the Emperor,” Ling promises him.

“But I see your point,” Ed admits.  “Guess if I can’t stay mad at you, I can’t stay all mad at Mr. Lion and Mr. Gorilla -- that’s just how they are, but at the end of the day they’re our allies.  But the problem is we’re still not in their good graces, you know.”

“We have to meet them halfway,” Ling explains.  “Which means you owe them an apology, Ed -- they have done a lot for you, you know.  You too, Greed.”

“Hate it when you’re right, brat,” Greed sighs.  “But I won’t have Hennessy and Bacardi stealing anything else from me -- and it looks like they’re fixing to go after my henchmen.”

“Sounds like your heart is in the right place.”

--------------------------------------------

“So … really big show tonight,” Darius tells Heinkel.

Heinkel nods, looking at the large crowd of visitors ahead of them that have lined up in front of the Big Top.  Though the sky has darkened, the circus is bright with fairy lights, and vendors on the sides of the line hand out freshly-spun cotton candy and buttered popcorn to customers.  Though the spectators are seemingly too enthralled by the circus to pay any lookout for potential fugitives like Darius and Heinkel, they (somewhat reluctantly) wear some of the disguise pieces that had been given to them, albeit with Darius neglecting to wear the wig.

“It’s a good thing we get in free,” Heinkel comments.  “They could probably charge 10,000 cens a ticket here if they wanted to.”

“True,” Darius agrees.  “This still blows my mind, to be honest.  I still remember back when those girls were just laying around and talking about their circus … and they really did it.”

“And it still blows my mind that there are so many chimeras that managed to escape from the military,” Heinkel adds.  “To say nothing of the fact that you happen to know most of them.  You’re funny, Darius, calling me closed off when you had so much under the rug yourself.”

“Didn’t think it was a big deal,” Darius argues.

“Yeah, sure,” Heinkel nods.  “The fact that you knew Greed before the rest of us this whole time.  Oh, and the whole thing with you knowing Ballantine personally.”

“No, you know what I mean, it’s not like it was eating away at me,” Darius shrugs.  “I don’t know, what do you want me to talk about?”

“Guess I’m more interested in what you know about Ballantine,” Heinkel admits.  “So she was the only one there with you after the whole jailbreak?”

“Well, yeah,” Darius says.  “I guess you could say we were kind of partners; we trained together and did most of our missions and assignments together.”

“So you really knew each other for years,” Heinkel says in surprise.  “At least seven or eight years, right?  You must know each other pretty well.”

“I don’t know if I would even say that,” Darius contends.  “I mean, we worked together, but I wouldn’t say we were close.  She wasn’t the most talkative.  Closed off.  More so than, uh, the two of us, I guess.  We at least talk like we’re not strangers, you know?  But she was pretty intense, focused on staying alive, keeping us on track, following orders.  I mean, the two of us didn’t talk a whole lot when we were in the lab; they kinda had to prod us into communicating more.”

“I guess she wasn’t too bad, then,” Heinkel replies.  “Well, obviously, she’s sort of bad news for us right now, but she can’t be any worse than the guy we had in our division before you.”

“Who was that, again?”

“Krieghoff,” Heinkel recalls.  “Wolf chimera.  Kind of a sadist -- which is why Envy liked him so much, I guess.  He got sent after Scar by himself, and that was it.  Got his brains splattered across the pavement.”

“Ouch,” Darius says.  “Hope it wasn’t too weird getting used to me in the group after all that.”

“Are you kidding?”  Heinkel laughs.  “In the few days you were there, we liked you way better than we ever liked Krieghoff.  Bastard was such a mood killer.  Jerso and Zampano perked right up when you reared your head, you know.  Pegged you for another funny guy.”

“Guess I should be flattered,” Darius smiles.  “Really couldn’t tell with you at first, though.”

“Yeah, I was the designated serious one,” Heinkel explains.  “Keeping everyone on the right track.  Didn’t want us to get chewed out for lack of discipline.  It’s almost a shame we didn’t get to stick together as a group for longer.”

“Right, we got split up back there,” Darius nods.  “Sorry you got saddled with me, of all people, on the thrill ride across the country.”

“Don’t put yourself down so much,” Heinkel reassures him.  “Thanks to you, it’s been bearable, all of this … I do actually like spending time with you, you know.  You’re a pretty nice guy.  And, you know, we’ve both had to deal with the same shitty bosses.  The military, Kimblee, and the two brats.  We’re just two henchmen going through it.”

“Yeesh, don’t get all sappy on me,” Darius says, his face flushing.  “Thanks, though.  You’re not so bad yourself.  Though, I guess we’re not really henchmen anymore, are we?  Soon we’ll part ways from Greed and Ed for good, after the whole hostage thing is over.  Then I guess we can do whatever we want.”

“It’s … well, it’s strange to think about,” Heinkel says, almost in a daze.  “We’d still be on the lam, of course, but … I can’t even think of what there’d be to do with my life.  I don’t really have a family to go back to anymore, and my only purpose after I entered the military was to follow orders.  Strange to be free, I guess.  Everything and nothing to do at the same time.”

“Well, don’t hurt your head thinking about it right now,” Darius tells him.  “Seems like Hennessy and Bacardi are happy to put us up for a while, anyways, so it’s not like we have to leave right away after.”

“Now, I can’t say I’m not a little bit worried about this whole thing with Ballantine,” Heinkel says.  “I didn’t want to rile them up by pointing it out, but it still doesn’t seem terribly smart to invite the military into this place, especially with those two technically being fugitives themselves.  Ballantine could renege on the deal and bring backup, and they’d be putting the whole circus in danger.  What do they want from her, anyways?”

“They already mentioned it, but they know Ballantine pretty well,” Darius explains.  “Better and for longer than me — at least, Bacardi does.  She wouldn’t do anything to violate an agreement, and she’s supposed to bring Fullmetal back alive; they are threatening his life.  You’re right that it’s not an airtight plan, but it’s one Ballantine will probably abide by.  And, uh, Hennessy was being a bit secretive about why they wanted Ballantine here, but they used to be friends and all, you know.”

“So that’s gotta have something to do with it,” Heinkel finishes.

Darius starts when he realizes that he and Heinkel have reached the front of the line, but the usher quickly waves the two of them in, grinning, without asking for money or ticket.  Once they’ve gotten inside, they discover that the seats have already filled up quite a bit, and have to spend a considerable amount of time looking for an empty space.  Thankfully, they discover a part of the stands just wide enough for both of them to squeeze into next to each other.

“Well, we made it in,” Darius announces, gazing out towards the center of the tent.  “Guess we haven’t seen most of these folks perform yet, huh?  I think it’s really incredible what Hennessy and Bacardi managed to do, getting together a crew like this.  A lot of these people were living in a slum before this, you know?  Now they’ve got hundreds of people singing their praises.”

“It is incredible,” Heinkel agrees, growing silent as a hush falls over the rest of the crowd.

Darius also grows silent as he sees a spotlight begin to shine down towards the back of the tent, and watches as Hennessy bursts through with a flourish, smiling broadly as she walks to the center of the room.  Immediately, the crowd bursts into cheers, drowning out any other noise.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!”  Hennessy greets, her voice booming throughout the tent.  “Welcome to the show!  Is everyone ready?”

The crowd roars in agreement as performers begin to flood out from behind where Hennessy had entered, soon filling the space before them.  The Big Top soon becomes a flash of colors and movements as dancers begin to sprawl throughout it, acrobats swinging high above on the trapeze while fire-breathers, contortionists, and tigers move around beneath them.  

During the performance, Hennessy holds a both commanding and charismatic presence, leading the show with a vigor that seems to come naturally to her.  Though Heinkel’s reactions seem to be a bit diluted compared to the rest of the crowd, Darius soon finds himself becoming as enthused as the rest of the audience, grinning and cheering loudly.

Midway through the act, Darius is almost surprised to see Chase emerge into the Big Top (despite being informed of it in advance), but greatly excited to watch him perform all the same.  When he glances towards Heinkel and sees that his attention is diverted elsewhere, Darius calls out to him and throws an arm around him, pointing with his other hand excitedly towards where Chase has stopped in the middle of the ring, carrying two brightly-colored balls in each hand.  Heinkel musters a smile as Chase begins juggling with them, tossing the balls high in the air and catching them without making a single mistake, save for a brief fumble.

Soon after that, it seems, the performance reaches its climax, and as the music and the performers come to a halt, the Big Top erupts once more with applause.  Smiling tightly, Hennessy makes her way to the front as the performers begin to take a bow, and as Chase rushes to her side, she grabs his arm and lifts it into the air.

“And let’s give it up for our newest performer!”  She proclaims, allowing the crowd more time to applaud as Chase drinks in the attention, laughing giddily.  “Thank you once again for coming out here tonight, everyone!  Thank you for coming to Yoki Circus!  We’ve got another show for you next week, so feel free to stop on by again!  People from all walks of life are welcome here!  The rich man, the poor man, the outcast, the reject -- everyone is welcome here with our family!”

The rest of the lights begin to come up, and the performers begin to exit as the spectators start to get up from their seats as well.  With a jolt, Darius suddenly becomes aware that he still has his arm around Heinkel.

“Ah — sorry,” Darius apologizes quickly as he takes his arm away.  “I, uh, didn’t—“

“Nothing to worry about,” Heinkel replies, putting a hand down to steady himself as he gets up.  “Well, very impressive, huh?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Darius agrees, getting up after Heinkel.  They remain rather quiet as they follow the crowd, which has begun to slowly funnel out of front of the tent.  

There’s a great deal of chatter that surrounds them, making it difficult to hear anything else until they finally get outside themselves.  As the visitors wander towards the entrance, Darius and Heinkel find themselves to be among the last few people to exit the tent.  As they do, however, they don’t have to wait long before, out of the corner of his eye, Darius sees something run into Heinkel’s leg.

“Hi, Mr. Heinkel!”  Chase says cheerfully, looking up at him.  “Did you see my performance?”

Heinkel looks down at him, chuckling a bit.  “Uh … sure did, kiddo.  Had no idea you could do all of that!  You’re more talented than a lot of grown-ups, you know that?”

Chase nods vigorously.  “I can juggle other stuff, too!  Do you wanna see?”

“Well, I don’t see why not…”

As Chase begins tugging Heinkel off to a nearby tent, Darius is about to follow when he feels a hand on his shoulder.  Whipping his head around, he discovers Hennessy giving him a knowing grin.

“How was it, Darius?”  She asks.

“Oh -- that was an incredible show, Hennessy!”  Darius exclaims.  “I can’t believe you coordinated all of that yourself.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Bacardi,” Hennessy confesses.  “She really knows a thing or two about dancing.  She’s in the back changing right now, but you’re invited to our after-party.”

“After-party, huh?”  Darius replies.  “I don’t know, I’ve never been one for parties…”

“Sorry, I’m exaggerating,” Hennessy tells him.  “It’d just be you, me, and Bacardi in our tent.  Feel like just us three haven’t gotten the chance to catch up, huh?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s fine,” Darius nods.

Darius follows Hennessy around the back of the Big Top to what appears to be her personal tent, sitting down inside at the table as Hennessy takes a bottle off a nearby shelf.  Shortly after, Bacardi walks in, putting her jacket back on as she does so.

“Am I late?”  Bacardi asks.

“We just made it here ourselves,” Hennessy tells her, pouring a glass.  “Cognac?”

“Sure,” she replies, taking the glass and sitting down next to Darius.

“That was some impressive dancing,” Darius tells her.  “Didn’t know how well you’d be able to pull that off as a bear, but you were pretty agile!  I know I don’t get any faster in my, uh, gorilla form.”

“Years and years of practice,” Bacardi shrugs.  “I’ve been dancin’ since I was eight.  Ballantine’s the one who got me into it, funny enough.”

“Is that right?”  Darius says as Hennessy joins them at the table.  “Don’t know why, but I just can’t picture Ballantine dancing.  I did at least know it was a hobby of hers before we all got trapped together.”

“Oh yeah, she really dragged us into it,” Bacardi nods.  “Bido was never any good at it -- two left feet, you know.  But she was always tryin’ to sneak us into the performances at the opera house, and believe me, we got kicked out more than a few times.”

“Right,” Darius says.  “You and Ballantine and Bido grew up together, didn’t you?”

“Same orphanage,” Bacardi nods.  “It took us a bit to get acquainted, I guess, but we were all sort of the outcasts there.  The big one, the simple one, the ugly one.  It was just me and Ballantine at first -- I felt real bad for her, gettin’ picked on and all.  Bido was the only other person there who was nice enough to be her friend, and we decided we were all sort of each other’s siblings, you know?  And it’s not like anyone was fixin’ to adopt us … but we didn’t want to spend the rest of our lives there, so we up and left.  I knew how to fend for us, get us money and food.  ‘Course, Bido sorta had sticky fingers, got us in trouble with the authorities a few times.”

“Did Ballantine keep you guys on the straight and narrow?”  Darius says jokingly.

“She did, actually,” Bacardi confirms.  “She got us all workin’ odd jobs and takin’ handouts to get by.  Most dishonest thing we did was squat in an old abandoned complex, but we never did get caught in there.  God … I wish she’d come with us when we escaped, but I bet if we tried to drag her we’d never have gotten out.  But you know what happened all after that, don’t you, Darius?  They roped you both into the military, right?”

“Yeah,” Darius answers.  “Sort of in a more esoteric branch of the military, if you get what I mean.  Sure I mentioned it before, but we really thought you guys were dead.”

“And we thought you were still in that lab,” Hennessy pipes up.  “That is, until Bacardi heard about her roaming around in South City -- and with that wanted man description going around of you, Darius.  We knew we had to see you both again.”

“Is that why you’re trying to get Ballantine here?”  Darius blurts out.  “Just to see her?”

“Yeah, we tried contacting her, but like I said, she’s been writing us off,” Hennessy laments.  “But that’s not the only reason … Bacardi, should I tell Darius my evil little plan?”

“Might as well,” Bacardi agrees.

Hennessy turns back to Darius.  “Well … you know, Darius, I was pretty much on my own before I got taken to that lab.  Didn’t have friends like Bacardi did.  Don’t get me wrong, it was terrible, us getting treated like animals, like property, but … there was a bright side to it.  Being in there with you folks.  It’s where I met Bacardi, here, and, well … it felt like we were a little family.  Talking about our hopes and dreams together.  You, me, Bacardi, Bido, Ballantine … then things changed when those military folks showed up; next thing I knew, things weren’t the same, and we were getting all split up.  We weren’t content just sitting around with the rest of ‘em, being Greed’s little minions.  When Bacardi and I got our circus here, I thought it was everything I ever wanted, right?  All my dreams realized.  But it wasn’t enough.  I wanted more than that.  You know what I’m getting at, Darius?”

“I think so..?”  Darius replies.

“Bacardi and I had our dreams come true,” Hennessy begins, grasping her hand, “And now we want to make everyone else’s dreams come true!  Well … to the best of our ability, at least.  We want you all here with us so we can help make it happen.”

“That’s … wow, that’s kind of you,” Darius says in surprise.  “Are you … are you sure it’s all going to work out, though?  You think Ballantine is going to play along with that?”

“She doesn’t want to be in the military,” Bacardi insists.  “I know her, and that’s not what she really wants.  We just need to show her that.”

“Ballantine wanted to be a princess,” Hennessy recalls.  “The princess of Aerugo.  What a dreamer she was … well, we can’t make her the real princess of Aerugo, but anything’s possible here at our circus.  She can be a princess here, huh?  And dance as much as she likes.”

Darius can’t help but smile.  “Yeah … yeah, I think she’d like that.”

“And you, Darius,” Hennessy says to him, “Now, you wanted a big home and a big family, huh?  The circus ain’t exactly a mansion, but the Big Top is a big house if you really think about it.  And everyone here will be your family!  Though, if you want the real deal, we’d be happy to save up--”

“I … I like that, actually,” Darius interrupts.  “No, that’s just fine, Hennessy.  I’d be honored to be a part of your family.  Though, I don’t know any circus tricks, so you’ll have to teach me.”

“Glad to hear it,” Hennessy beams.  “And it looks like you already bagged yourself a nice man, huh?  We’ll have to get that Mr. Heinkel on board, too.  How long have you two been together?”

“I -- wait, what?”  Darius splutters.  “We’re, uh, we’re not together!  We’re not together.”

Hennessy starts cackling.  “But you like him, don’t you?”

“Uh…” Darius’s face turns red.  “I … a … a little, I guess.  But don’t tell him.”

“Lips are sealed,” Hennessy assures him.  “Well, once Ballantine’s on board, we gotta find Bido next, get him his island.  Now, that’s one we might actually have to save up for … he might like Yock Island, actually.  In Kauroy Lake.  Heard you can really live off the land there if you know what you’re doing.  Guess it’s a good thing we heard it from Mr. Greed, first -- we were preparing ourselves mentally to go back to the Devil’s Nest, but from the sounds of it, those folks all parted ways from him.  Guess we’ll have to interrogate Mr. Greed … though, you wouldn’t happen to know where they went, would you, Darius?”

Darius feels like he’s been punched in the gut as soon as the question is asked.  “Well … uh…”

“What is it?”  Bacardi asks, a tinge of worry in her voice.

“I have something to tell you,” Darius says hesitantly.  “But you’re not going to like it.”

----------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Greed,” Ed calls to him.  “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean in Central, or uh, the first first time?”

“The first first time,” Ed affirms.  “Back in Dublith.”

“Do I ever,” Greed laughs.  “You really threw me for a loop there, kid.  You realize you’re the first person to ever break my Ultimate Shield?  Smart little bastard, transmuting it into a weaker material.  Guess I should count myself lucky you’re on my side now.”

“Well, I guess I was thinking of the part before we fought,” Ed admits.  “When you gave me that deal.  Guess I regret how I reacted, looking back.  Blew my top instead of hearing what you guys had to say.  I definitely made things worse.”

“Already told you not to blame yourself,” Greed replies.  “It is what it is.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  We stole your brother, and you just wanted him back.  And, you know, you wouldn’t have liked what I had to offer in exchange.  Teaching you how to create a homunculus, I mean.  I know you’d never create one, knowing what it takes now.”

“I guess you’re right,” Edward agrees.  “Did you really want to live like that in a suit of armor, though?  Like I told you, you can’t eat or sleep or feel anything.  I guess you were expecting it to be some sort of foolproof immortality, but it would’ve just been a downgrade from what you already had.”

“Well, it wasn’t all for me,” Greed confesses.  “I hate losing my possessions, you know.  You said it yourself -- humans and animals and plants exist in the cycle of life, and they all have to die eventually.  I was sort of hoping to--”

“So they’re all dead?”

Bacardi bursts into the tent, fuming.  “All your little henchmen at the Devil’s Nest.  The military shot them down.  Bido, too.  Is it true?”

Shocked by Bacardi’s sudden intrusion, Greed and Ed remain silent, neither willing to speak.

“You’d better answer me, Mr. Greed,” she growls.  “Did Bido die protectin’ your sorry ass from the goddamn military?”

“...No,” Greed says finally.  “No, he didn’t.”

“He didn’t?”  Bacardi says with some surprise.  “Is-is he alive?  Is he still alive, Mr. Greed?”

Another long pause.  “No.  He isn’t.”

Bacardi and Edward both give him stunned looks.

“How did he die?”  Bacardi asks quietly.

Greed is quiet for a painfully long time, and after a minute passes, Bacardi kicks him hard in the ribs.

“How did he die?!”  She repeats angrily.  “If you won’t tell me, I’ll--”

“I killed him, alright?”  Greed snaps.  “I killed him.”

Bacardi stands still in disbelief for a few moments, then kicks him again, harder.  “What is wrong with you?!”

Edward seems to want to say something, but remains silent as Bacardi begins to tear up.

“Why did you do it?”  She demands.

“There’s … nothing I can say that would justify what I did,” Greed answers.  “And it would take a long time to explain why.”

“Then you’d better start explainin’,'' Bacardi hisses.  “I’ve got all night.”

Greed takes a deep breath.  “Um … the military did come in and raid the Devil’s Nest.  That part is true.  They killed almost everyone there, and they brought me back to Central.  Back to my Father.  The one who created all of the homunculi.  He, ah, didn’t exactly like the fact that I ran away and disobeyed him, and all that, so he reabsorbed me into himself.  He recreated me in the body of this human, Ling Yao.  The Xingese prince.  But he erased all of my memories, so I wouldn’t go disobeying him again.  He gave me a little job to keep intruders out of his business.  Bido ended up being one of those intruders.  Killing him is what … brought my memories back.  Believe me, I … I regret what I did.  I’d take it all back if I could…”

“God, you really are a worthless bastard,” Bacardi mutters.

“And what about you!?”  Greed yells, suddenly losing his temper.  “You abandoned him!  He was your friend, and you left him behind!”

Bacardi grows silent, scowling before she finally responds.  “You’re right, Mr. Greed … we did leave Bido behind.  But we asked him to come with us before we left, you know.  Told us he wouldn’t rat us out, but he said he liked bein’ around you and the others too much to leave you behind … if I’d known you would’ve done somethin’ like this, I would’ve dragged him kickin’ and screamin’.  Thought you took care of your possessions, Greed.”

“Shut up,” Greed snaps.  “It seems like you didn’t even care about him that much, did you?!”

“Did you?”  Bacardi retorts.  “Was Bido your friend, Mr. Greed?”

Greed grows silent again, seeming lost in thought.

“Don’t answer that,” Bacardi sighs.  “I heard all I needed to.”  With that, she storms out of the tent.

“Greed.”

Greed doesn’t respond.

“I know you wouldn’t have killed him,” Ling continues.  “The person who killed him wasn’t … the real you.  It was a facsimile of yourself manufactured by your Father.  You’re not the one to blame here.  That version of yourself died alongside Bido.”

“You make it sound like he sacrificed himself to bring me back ,” Greed replies somberly.  “That’s a nice thought, Ling, but it doesn’t change the facts.  He died by my hand, and that’s all that matters to her.  And to me.”

“Bido and Bacardi … they must have been close, I take it,” Edward pipes up.

“Them and Ballantine, apparently,” Greed recalls.  “But I barely knew anything about that, aside from Bacardi being an old friend of Bido’s.  He never talked about them much.”

“I see,” Edward nods.  “There’s … well, there’s nothing you can do to make it up to her.  And she’s not obligated to forgive you, no matter your reasons.”

“Mhm.”

The air becomes still for a long time once again.

“...I mentioned Scar to you before,” Edward says finally.  “How he killed Shou Tucker and his daughter, Nina.  But he also killed the parents of a dear friend of mine.  Winry Rockbell.  They were doctors who treated him during the Ishvalan War, and he killed them in a blind rage.  Winry … the first time she met him, and she learned what he’d done, she wanted to shoot him.  I couldn’t let her do that … I couldn’t let someone like Winry bloody her hands like that.  Someone who helped bring a child into the world … who gave me an arm and a leg to stand on.  And … and the next time she met Scar up north, and she saw him bleeding out, you know what she did?  She bandaged his arm … saved his life, I think.  Because it’s what her parents would have done.”

“My God,” Greed interjects.  “You really are in love with this girl, aren’t you?”

“What’s that have to do with anything?!”  Edward retorts.  “I mean, no!”

“Miss Winry Rockbell,” Greed says slowly.  “I’ve really gotta meet this mechanic of yours.”

“That’s beside the point,” Ed insists.  “But the thing is, Winry didn’t … forgive Scar for killing her parents, and neither did I, but we worked together with him to get her and the others somewhere safe away from Kimblee.  And though I didn’t get to meet up with them afterwards, I know they’re working together with my brother right now to make sure that whatever your Father has in store for this country won’t come to pass.  And Scar … even though he did all those things, it seemed like he wanted to change from it.  He wanted to keep moving forward instead of festering in the past.  And no matter what you’ve done, you don’t have to break down here.  You’ll keep moving, too.  You’ll know better and do better.”

Greed begins laughing.  “I don’t need advice from you, Ed.  It’s not in my nature to regress or stop in my tracks just because of something like that.  I’m always after more—“  Greed seems to think better of finishing his statement.  “Actually, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Why do you refuse to kill people?”

Edward tilts his head up towards the ceiling.  “Well, there’s one falsehood in equivalent exchange, Greed.  If you can call it that.  Almost everything that exists in this world can be traded for something else — everything except a human soul, that is.  Once a person dies, they can never, ever come back.  My brother and I learned that the hard way … just how precious a life really is.  I hope that makes enough sense to you.”

“Not really.”

“Well, how about you tell me something,” Edward rejoins.  “Why do you refuse to lie?”

“Well, that’s a funny one,” Greed replies.  “Actually, it’s pretty dumb.  You know me, I want everything I don’t have, but I want everything that everyone else doesn’t have, too.  You know what my pops wants more than anything else, Ed?”

“He … wants to become God?”  Edward guesses.  “Wait … he wants the Truth.  He wants to open the Doorway of Truth.”

“That’s right,” Greed smiles.  “That’s the one thing he wants above all, so naturally, I desired it, too.  So I always have the Truth.  You get it?”

Instead of replying, Edward bursts into uncontrollable laughter.

“Yeah, I knew you’d think that was funny,” Greed snickers.  “Well, you can lie for me, you know.”

“Guess I can,” Edward admits.  “Though, I wouldn’t ask you to kill on my behalf.”

“Figured,” Greed answers.  “Um, that reminds me … you were telling me about that Nina girl who got turned into a chimera and got herself killed, right?  And she was the one where you weren’t sure if she deserved to die or not?”

“Of course she didn’t deserve to die,” Edward snaps.  “But she didn’t deserve to … to live like that.  She would’ve suffered for the rest of her life.  In a cage in some laboratory.  So, for her, maybe it really was better…”

“Well, listen to you,” Greed says.  “You can’t give up that easily, Ed.  Thought that wasn’t your thing.  No, I don’t think it was mercy or anything, her getting killed.  Because if she hadn’t died, you wouldn’t have given up on her, I bet.  You would’ve found a way to free her, get her back to normal.”

“It’s not like that’ll do me any good now,” Edward says forlornly.  “I don’t even know why you brought it up.  I was too helpless to save a little girl then, and I can’t go back and change that now.”

“Were you even listening to the advice you gave me five minutes ago?”  Greed interjects, sounding annoyed.  “Even if you can’t change the past, there’s still the future.  Know better, do better.  You could make sure something like that never happens again.  If I can move on from killing Bido, and make sure to never repeat that mistake, you can do the same thing with Nina or whatever.  Does that make sense?”

“Uh … yeah,” Edward agrees numbly.  “Yeah, you’re right.  Thanks, Greed.”

“...Thanks to you too, kid.”

There’s a part of Greed that desperately wishes Bido had gone searching for Hennessy and Bacardi rather than following him to Central.

Chapter Text

Darius is a bit surprised the next day when he hears from afar what sounds like Hennessy yelling in anger.  Against his better judgment, he nears closer to the sound of her voice from the inside of her tent, eavesdropping out of curiosity.

“Why would you think that was okay?”  She snaps.  “Are you kidding?”

“But I made a lot of money,” protests the voice of Chase.

“A lot of money that we don’t need,” Hennessy argues.  “That was a special gift from old man Wen to you, Chase!  You know that man loves you like a grandson, right?  That’s why he’s teaching you alkahestry and giving you all these nice things, sweetie.  Selling away his treasures is like giving him a big old slap in the face.  You have no idea what kind of memories came with that case.”

“Yeah, I do,” Chase retorts.  “Mr. Greed told me they use them in the Xing court.  So old man Wen doesn’t want it ‘cause he’s not in the court anymore.”

“So you decided to sell them based on what Mr. Greed told you,” Hennessy clarifies.  “But you didn’t ask old man Wen how he felt?”

“It doesn’t matter!”  Chase shouts.  “He gave it to me and I can do whatever I want with it!”

“Well, I’m your mother,” Hennessy replies, “And I want you to take that money back down to the pawn shop and trade it back in for the case.  I’ll give you more money to buy it back if you need it—“

“No, I wanna keep the money!”  Chase insists.  “Bacardi would let me keep it!”

“Chase, this is not okay.  And Bacardi would tell you the same thing — Chase!”

Darius jumps back instinctively as Chase runs past him out of the tent, and is still frozen for a bit as Hennessy pokes her head out of the tent not long after, quickly noticing him.

“Darius, did you hear all of that?”

“Uh … some of it,” Darius replies.

Hennessy heaves a deep sigh.  “I’m gonna get some money together.  You wanna drive with me into town and help me buy back that case?”

Darius blinks.  “Oh, uh, sure.”

He remains outside the tent, dumbstruck, for a short period of time until Hennessy re-emerges with her wallet and a set of keys.  In relative silence, he follows her to the edge of the circus grounds where a small truck is waiting, and they are soon driving down a narrow pathway towards the outskirts of the nearby town.

“So, I didn’t know Chase was learning alkahestry,” Darius says hesitantly.  “I thought he wasn’t allowed to.”

“‘Cause he’s Ishvalan?”  Hennessy asks.  “Well, it is part of their religion, but … Chase really wanted to learn.  We consulted some of the members of his community, got some mixed opinions, but we decided if most of the folks we asked were okay with it and if it’d make Chase happy, we’d let him learn it.  Well, we usually let Chase have what he wants, but I do worry that we’re spoiling him sometimes.”

“Well, yeah, I had no idea he could be such a brat,” Darius says.  “He was acting like an ungrateful little jerk.”

“Mmh, he used to be a lot worse,” Hennessy admits.  “Back when we first met him, he was throwing tantrums and getting along awful with the other kids.  Wouldn’t sit still or follow directions; always running off.”

“What a nightmare,” Darius says, rubbing the back of his neck.  “And you still adopted him?”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s an angel or a troublemaker, Darius, he’s a child,” Hennessy states matter-of-factly.  “He was a little boy with no parents.  They say it takes a village to raise a child, but a child with no good parents doesn’t have the guidance and support they need.  Lonely and sad, like he was.  No child deserves to be alone like that, no matter what.”

“Right … yeah, I get it.”

“You know what Bacardi said when she saw him?”  Hennessy chuckles.  “Said she was just like him at that age.  Had him all figured out.  But she didn’t want him growing up like her, without a family, so … the rest was history.  Sometimes I worry if I’m raising him the right way, though.  Truth be told, I’m afraid of being a bad mom.”

“I don’t think you seem like a bad mom at all,” Darius tells her.  “I mean, I was surprised that you yelled at the kid, but I understand why you had to.”

“Hah … you know how I wound up on the streets, Darius?”

“Uh … no, I guess you never told me,” Darius confesses.

“Well, I wasn’t an orphan like Bacardi and her friends,” Hennessy starts.  “And I didn’t get abandoned, like you.  For most of my childhood, I actually lived in a big old house with a big wealthy family.  But, uh … it sure wasn’t a happy family.  My parents and my siblings … they were hateful people.  I was hateful too, Darius.  Hated it enough that I went and ran away to live on the streets.  I don’t regret it.  Having no family is better than having a horrible family.  That’s another thing a child shouldn’t have to suffer through … sometimes I’m scared that I sound like my mother, you know.”

“But you’re not a bad person,” Darius insists.  “I don’t think you’re a bad person, or a bad mother.”

“Well, you’re kind, Darius,” Hennessy smiles.  “Guess it’s like a tightrope walk, isn’t it?  Being a parent.  You gotta strike a balance.  Too lenient with ‘em and they’ll go and get themselves hurt or turn spoiled; too hard on ‘em and you’re hurting them yourself.  For the record, if you ever have kids, I think you’d make a great father, Darius.”

“You, uh, you think so?”  Darius says in surprise.  “I don’t know if I’m that good with kids, but I guess I don’t have to worry about that for a while.”

“Now, you were traveling with that Fullmetal boy, huh?”  Hennessy recalls.  “Papers said you folks kidnapped him, but I guess he’s just working for Mr. Greed now, is that right?”

Darius stiffens.  “Uh, yeah.  Why?”

“Just thinking,” Hennessy answers.  “They say that kid’s the youngest State Alchemist in history.  Just a teenager.  Wonder what kinda parents had it in their minds to let him do something dangerous as that.”

“His father walked out on him when he was pretty young,” Darius explains.  “And his mother passed away not long after.  He and his brother more or less grew up without parents.”

“He’s still growing up,” Hennessy corrects him.  “Well, I feel for the kid.  But I’m sure a talented little squirt like him has had a lot of adults and mentors looking after him in his life, too.  I’d offer him a place to stay here otherwise.”

Darius snorts.  “Well, right now the only ‘adult’ he’s got on his side is Greed.  I don’t know how you feel about that.”

Hennessy shrugs.  “Good point; I should probably help him out after all this is over.  Though, from what I can tell, the two of them get along pretty well, and I know Mr. Greed is a kind man.”

Darius is legitimately taken aback — “kind” isn’t exactly a word that he’d use to describe Greed, and on top of that, it’s a bold statement to make in light of the information that Bacardi had relayed to them about Bido’s death.

“Guess you don’t see it the same way, huh?”  Hennessy continues.  “Well, me and Bacardi only worked for him for three months.  Guess that’s about the same amount of time you worked for him, too.  But as demeaning as the bastard is, he did really look out for his own, you know.  The night we left, Bacardi wanted Bido to come with us, but he said no and they got into a little spat.  See, Bido liked Mr. Greed better than he ever liked Bacardi.  Bacardi, he said, was always putting him down and admonishing him, but Greed was real nice to him, a real friend.  I know Bacardi never meant to hurt Bido.  She was trying to keep him out of trouble, keep him alive.  Greed was nice to him and he killed him.  Funny how that works.”

——————————————

A few days before Hennessy’s scheduled rendezvous, Edward is somewhat surprised to see Heinkel walk in for what seems to be the first time in nearly two weeks.

“Is that you, Heinkel?”  He asks.

“Weird hearing you call me something other than Mr. Lion,” Heinkel comments.

“Look, we realize that we haven’t treated you and Darius the best in the past,” Edward admits, “And we wanted to say sorry.”

“Is this a genuine apology, or are you just saying this to get me back on your side?”

“It’s genuine—“

“Not you, Ed.  I want to hear it from Greed.”

Greed sighs.  “Yeah, we’re just trying to appease you.”

Heinkel laughs.  “Yeah, I was gonna say, it’s not as though me and Darius aren’t guilty of the same thing.  Being jerks right back, I mean.”

“So, why are you even here?”  Ed says tiredly.

“Well, word finally got around to me about Greed’s little accident,” Heinkel explains.  “And I thought I had skeletons in the closet.”

“What, are you here to gloat?”  Greed shoots back.  “Whatever Bacardi told you, I—“

“Heard it from Darius, actually,” Heinkel replies.  “But I’m not here to admonish you.  If anything, I probably understand how you feel about it better than Bacardi does.”

“How so?”

Heinkel stares off to a spot on the wall behind Greed and Edward.  “I’m sure you’ve heard this comparison plenty of times from your other friends in the military, Fullmetal, but any of us who fight Amestris’s wars are guilty of killing the innocent.  Like I told you, when a soldier signs on to the military, they’re complicit.  Trust me, it’s not that different.  I’ve had to deal with the same guilt.”

The room is silent for a long time before Greed finally speaks.  “The people you killed … you didn’t know them personally.  They weren’t friends or allies to you.”

“So I have no right, no reason to feel remorseful?”  Heinkel responds.  “That doesn’t make it any less wrong.  Killing innocent people.  Have you killed many people, Greed?”

Greed blinks.  “Depends on your definition of many.  Maybe a few dozen or so, in my whole life.”

“And why did you kill them?”

“Why the hell do you care?”  Greed snaps.  “Do I have to list off the reason for each or something?  Look, every time I did it was on behalf of my Father.  On his orders.”

“If I had to take a guess, the only one you regretted killing was Bido,” Heinkel decides.  “You didn’t give a second thought to the others because they weren’t people who mattered to you.”

“Like you would know.”

“The people you kill, the people you watch die, when they don’t matter to you, it’s easy to carry on without a second thought, I suppose,” Heinkel continues.  “But when they do, it’s not so easy to let go.  You can either let it haunt you, or you can bury those feelings.  And after a while, you just have to get used to one or the other, I guess.”

“I get it now,” Ed says suddenly.

“Hm?”

“I guess I kind of forgot you and Mr. Gorilla — you and Darius, rather — were soldiers,” Ed clarifies.  “Lieutenant Hawkeye told me about what you all sort of, uh … had to do.  And I guess it’s the same for them.  Their own way of moving forward.  In order to do that, you can’t let your emotions consume you.  Guess I shouldn’t have held you to a different standard.”

“Is this about that whole spat we had in Dublith?”  Heinkel asks.  “I owe you an apology for that too, Ed.  Wasn’t trying to delegitimize what you or Greed were going through.  We just deal with these things in different ways.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I accept the apology,” Greed says.

“...Same here,” Edward rejoins.  “So, are we good?”

Heinkel pauses.  “Yeah, we’re good.  Oh, wait, sorry for ‘undermining your authority’, Greed, I didn’t mean to trample your fragile ego.”

“That was a non-apology if I ever heard one,” Greed mutters.  “But if we’re all squared away, you wanna grab Darius and help us get out of here?”

“Oh, you’re so funny,” Heinkel laughs.  “I said we were even, not that I’m back on your team.  As a matter of fact, Hennessy has given me and Darius a hefty counter-offer.”

“Ugh, I knew it.”

“She wants us to stay on at the circus, become part of the family,” Heinkel tells them.  “I’m a bit conflicted as to whether or not I want to accept -- not really sure if I’m cut out for the circus -- but Darius is pretty much completely on board.  He’s not coming back with you guys.  But I think we’re through either way, Greed.”

“What?  No, we’re not!”

“Well, we’ll see how things turn out this weekend,” Heinkel finishes, stepping out of the tent.  “‘Till then.”

“God, what an asshole,” Ed groans.  “Do you actually still want them back?”

“Heinkel might be an asshole, but he’s my asshole,” Greed reminds him.  “Aaand I might have one more idea up my sleeve, but I’m gonna need you on board for it.”

——————————

“And you want Ballantine to join the circus, too,” Greed concludes.  “That was your plan all along.  You just want more and more circus people for the circus, don’t you?”

“...If that’s how you wanna look at it, I guess,” Hennessy replies.  “But Ballantine’s a friend, and more than anything we just want to remind her of that.”

“By making her join your circus?”  Ed asks.

“More like givin’ her an offer she’d be disinclined to refuse,” Bacardi counters.

Late at night after the show, Hennessy and Bacardi had moved Edward and Greed from the back tent to the Big Top, albeit still remaining tied up.  Chase, Darius and Heinkel wait inside with them as well, also anticipating Ballantine’s arrival.  Chase is engrossed in his attempts to teach Heinkel how to juggle, and Darius, who is otherwise unoccupied, avoids looking at Greed or Ed.

“Chase, how about you go help old man Wen clean up the dishes?”  Hennessy suggests to him.  “Clear out for the night.  Just to be safe.”

Chase makes the poutiest face he can muster.  “But I wanna meet Ball-tine really baaaaad.”

Hennessy sighs deeply.  “Can’t say no to that face … just don’t go causing any trouble, alright?”

“Promise!”

“Hey, uh … Hennessy, are you still a gambling woman?”  Greed asks her slyly.

“Sure I am,” she says, turning back to face him.  “Wouldn’t have gone and done all this if I wasn’t.”

“So, if all goes well tonight, Ballantine joins your crew and we get to go free,” Greed continues.  “If it doesn’t, Ballantine will take us back to Central, and she might even destroy your circus with her military buddies.”

“Not if she wants the Fullmetal Alchemist alive,” Hennessy reminds him.  “You’re thinking of the worst-worst case scenario.  More probable that we’d just scare her off.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, so there’s the best case where you win, middle case where nobody wins, and worst case where Ballantine wins.  Wanna make a bet?”

“Mr. Greed, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you don’t have anything to bet,” Hennessy sighs.  “We took all your stuff.  But we’ll give it back to you when this is done, unless you’re trying to pawn off your first aid kit to us or something.”

“No, I’ll think you’ll like this better,” Greed answers.  “I know you’re the type who wants it all.  If you win, and you get Ballantine on board with you, me and Ed will join your circus, too.”

“Tradin’ people around, huh?”  Bacardi pipes up.  “Did you even ask the kid if he was okay with it?”

“I already agreed to it in advance, actually,” Ed says.  “Guess you guys’ll have to teach us some circus tricks, huh?”

“Great,” Darius mutters.

“Hmm … what do you think, Bacardi?”  Hennessy asks.

“The half-pint can stay, but I don’t want Greed in our circus,” Bacardi spits.

“Who are you calling a half-pint so tiny you can’t see him at eye level?!”

“That works for me,” Hennessy nods.  “Was a bit apprehensive about the poor kid tagging along with a bastard like Mr. Greed, but we’ll make sure he’s taken care of here.”

“Hey, I’m not the one threatening to kill him,” Greed points out.

“So what are your winnings if I lose this bet?”  Hennessy asks him.  “‘Course, I guess you’ll only be taking them in the middle case scenario.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Greed chuckles.  “If Ballantine ditches, then you and Bacardi are going to pay me back everything you ever stole from me.”

“That’s it, huh?”  Hennessy says in surprise.  “Okay.  If I win, Fullmetal joins our circus and you never come back here again, Mr. Greed.  If you win, we will give you back everything we ever stole from you.  Deal?”

Greed can barely move his bound wrists as Hennessy holds out a hand for him to shake, assuming she’s waiting for his verbal confirmation.  “No take backs.  You promise?”

“Promise.”

“Then it’s a deal.”  Greed allows Hennessy to feebly shake his hand.

“Well, we didn’t take that much from him, right?”  Bacardi says, adjusting her sunglasses.  “Countin’ what they had on them a couple weeks ago, it was…”

“Yeah, the travel supplies we had with us,” Greed affirms.  “As well as the other things.  My favorite pair of sunglasses, 20,000 cens, two cognacs … aaand my henchmen Darius and Heinkel.”

Darius, Heinkel, Bacardi, and Hennessy all turn their heads to Greed at once, looking as though they’ve been slapped.

“The hell!?”  Darius exclaims.

“No.  Nuh-uh,” Bacardi says.

“Darius and Heinkel sure as hell didn’t agree to that,” Hennessy admonishes.

“The hell we didn’t,” Heinkel grumbles.

“No take backs,” Greed says smugly.  “We shook on it.”

“Well, we didn’t steal Darius and Heinkel from you,” Bacardi retorts.  “They’re with us of their own volition.”

“Uh, if you think about it, you kinda did,” Ed chimes in.  “Hope you didn’t forget about the whole thing where you tranquilized them, dragged them here, and separated them from us.”

“That is actually a good point,” Heinkel says quietly.

“Why don’t we just re-negotiate this,” Bacardi suggests.

“It is no take backs,” Hennessy says solemnly.

“Yeah, no take-backsies,” Ed insists.

“Did you just say take-backsies?”  Darius asks.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t … know what I fucking expected from you, Ed, you talk like a—“

“Miss Hennessy?”  One of the dancers pokes her head through the tent flap.  “She’s here, and ready to see you.”

Greed is startled when, almost as suddenly, Ballantine bursts in through the opening herself, only surveying her surroundings briefly before her eyes settle on Bacardi.  As the dancer scampers off behind her, Bacardi strides forward and embraces Ballantine tightly.

“Bacardi,” she says in awe.  “It’s … really you.”

“Who else were you expectin’ to see?”  Bacardi asks, suddenly overcome with mirth.

“I was certain you were dead,” Ballantine replies, still stunned.  “I thought they were trying to trick me, using your name.  If I had known…”

“Was that all?”  Bacardi laughs.  “Feel like we kidnapped these folks for nothin’, then.”

“Yeah, maybe you did!”  Edward yells indignantly.

Ballantine looks over behind Bacardi to where Ed and Greed are tied up.  “Only you would do something as crazy as this to get my attention … but I’m here.”

“And we’re glad to have you here, Ballantine,” Hennessy grins.  “Welcome to Yoki Circus.”

Ballantine looks around the room again, this time taking in the beaming faces of Hennessy and Bacardi, the joyless scowls of Ed and Greed, the curious expressions of Chase and Heinkel, and Darius’s lopsided grin as he awkwardly waves a hand in greeting.

“Thanks for … gathering all my targets in one place,” Ballantine says sheepishly.  “But, uh … how did you two end up working at a circus, anyways?”

“We own this circus,” Hennessy tells her.  “That was our dream, remember?”

“I guess I forgot.”

“No big deal,” Hennessy shrugs.  “We worked for that sad sack of a man who freed us for a bit, then we ditched him and lived on the down low for a while.  And once we had enough money, we opened this place.”

“Yep, me and Hennessy run this circus,” Bacardi adds.  “And this is her son, Chase.”  She walks over and puts an arm around him as he waves to Ballantine energetically.

“Well, I’m happy for you all,” Ballantine says, her expression completely neutral.  “It’s good to see that you’re doing well.”

“Wow, you’re like a glacier,” Hennessy jokes.  “Let loose a little and stay a while, sweetheart!  We’re happy to have you here!  It’s been years, huh?”

“Afraid I can’t,” Ballantine laments.  “I should get these fugitives back to Central Command as soon as possible.”

“Central Command?”  Hennessy wrinkles her nose.  “To those stuffy military higher-ups?  You really want to spend the rest of your life bending over backwards for ‘em?”

“Do you have a problem with me doing my job?”

“My problem is that’s not what you really want, honey,” Hennessy says, putting a hand on Ballantine’s shoulder.  “You want to be free to do whatever your heart desires, don’t you?”

Ballantine scowls.  “What are you implying?”

“You don’t have to do that anymore,” Bacardi smiles.  “You can stay here with us.  No laws, no rules, no ranks … you can live out your dream right here.”

“Hey, what happened to the Ballantine that wanted to be a princess?”  Hennessy adds.  “She wanted nice dresses, tea, admirers, she wanted to dance in front of a crowd.  Now, I still want to see you dance, Miss Ballantine.”

“And, uh, it’ll be all of us together again,” Darius chimes in.  “Like old times, right?  Except this time we’re not stuck in cages.  We’re all sort of like … a family together.  If that makes sense.”

Ballantine stands frozen for what seems like a long time, then almost shakily takes Hennessy’s hand off her shoulder.  “Sorry, but I don’t live in fantasyland like the rest of you.  I have responsibilities.  I have a real life.  It’s not fun, but I have to live in it.”

“This is real life, Ballantine,” Bacardi insists.  “This is our real life.  And you can be a part of it!  You can run away and leave all that behind!”

“That might be difficult, since I have troops waiting outside.”

“We told you to come alone,” Hennessy says sharply.  “Why did you—?”

“Outside the circus grounds,” Ballantine clarifies.  “You told me to come inside alone.  So I did.”

“Goddamn, Ballantine, we’re tryin’ to help you,'' Bacardi pleads.  “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

“Trying to help me?”  Ballantine replies, glowering.  “This is just about what you want, isn’t it?  That’s always more important to you, right, Bacardi?  You’ve never cared about what I wanted.  You abandoned me.”

“Oh.”  Bacardi takes a step back.  “That’s what this is about.  Ballantine, I—“

“I thought you were dead,” Ballantine scowls.  “I spent years thinking that you and Bido had gotten yourselves killed, but I guess you were just happy and free this whole time, right?  Where is Bido?”

Bacardi’s expression sours.  “Why don’t you tell her, Mr. Greed?”

“Don’t think I should be a part of this conversation,” Greed says, completely deadpan.  “But just so we’re not dragging this out, I killed him.”

“Is this a joke or something?”  Ballantine snaps.  “How—how the hell do you even know Bido?”

“Mr. Greed’s the one who freed him all those years ago with the rest of us,” Bacardi tells her.  “I … I wish Bido was here right now, that I’d never left him to get tangled up with that monster.  But you’re here now, Ballantine.  He might be gone, but we still have each other.  I didn’t mean to abandon you.  I want to make it up to you.  And I can if you’ll just let me.”

“Why is Bido dead, Bacardi?  Who let that happen?  From what it sounds like, you abandoned him, too.  Are you sure that’s not your fault in some capacity?”

“No.  No, it’s not!”  Bacardi clenches her fists.  “Bido didn’t want to stick with us.  I didn’t choose to abandon him.  You’d know that if you’d come with us.  Sayin’ we abandoned you when you’re the one who stayed behind.  Actin’ like you were so worried about us, but you didn’t lift a finger to stop us.”

“Darius stayed behind, too,” Ballantine points out, shooting a glance towards him.  “Because he was smart enough not to throw his life away then, like the rest of you did.  But eventually he abandoned me too.  Just like everyone else.”

“Wait, what?”  Darius blurts out.  “Ballantine, I didn’t—“

“Oh, everyone abandons you, huh?”  Bacardi says.  “That must be so hard.  Your life must be so hard.”

“Like you would know,” Ballantine growls.  “Ever since I was born, nobody has ever wanted me.  No one wanted to adopt an ugly girl, no one wanted to be near an ugly girl, except for the people who felt bad for me.  It must have made you feel better knowing that you were such a saint for being my ‘friend’.  And you were so beautiful, and I was supposed to be so lucky to have you.  But becoming chimeras made all of us hideous.”

“Is that what you think?  You think I’m hideous now?”  Bacardi hisses.  “You think my life wasn’t hard?  You don’t know anythin’ about what I’ve had to go through.  And I was friends with you because I liked you, not for some ego trip or whatever you thought it was!”

“It was because you pitied me,” Ballantine insists.  “I know that.  And you were only friends with Bido because he was the only other person who would be friends with me.  I know you didn’t like him.”

“I never even said that!  Of course I cared about Bido!  Goddamn, he was stupid, but I cared about him, you know that?  Might not have seemed it, I was always makin’ sure he didn’t get his little pea-brain killed, but—“

“Bido wasn’t stupid,” Greed says quietly.

Bacardi turns to look at him.  “What did you say?”

“Bido wasn’t stupid,” he repeats.  “He actually had a photographic memory.  He could memorize maps and codes after only looking at them once or twice.  He knew a hell of a lot about fish, for some reason.  Different genuses and whatnot, and where they lived geographically.  And he was one of the deftest pickpockets I ever—“

“The hell is your problem?”  Bacardi snaps.  “You’re the one who killed him, and now you’re just spoutin’ crap about him.  So you can win your little bet, right?”

“Everything he said is true, actually,” Ballantine informs her.  “You’d know that if you ever actually paid attention to Bido.”

“You know what?  You’re not any better,” Bacardi counters.  “I know you only cared about him because he was one of the few people who would even talk to you.  And it’s not because of what you look like, Ballantine.  It’s because you’re selfish.  Self-absorbed.  You’ve always been self-absorbed, Ballantine.  You’re ugly on the inside and out—“

As soon as the words are spoken, Ballantine turns to her beast form and lunges towards Bacardi.  She claws her across the face, sending her glasses flying, and Chase wails as he runs to the other side of the tent in fear.  Darius is the first to come to Bacardi’s aid, transforming as well and pushing Ballantine away from her.  Ballantine rebounds quickly, darting away before launching a counterattack on both of them.

“Jailbreak,” Hennessy’s voice says next to Greed.  Snapping his attention away, he watches as Hennessy uses her claws to rip apart Edward’s restraints.

“Uhh, little help here, too?”  Greed calls over the noise.

“You’re not much use against women, sorry,” Hennessy tells him before running off.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, using his own strength to tear the rope around his wrists.  Next to him, Edward transmutes the ground beneath him, which begins to churn up towards Ballantine.  She dodges the attack, and Darius takes the brunt of it instead, falling face-first on the ground.

“Damn,” Ed curses.  “How is she so fast?”

As Greed finishes freeing himself and stands up, he can’t find any room to disagree — even with Darius, Heinkel, Hennessy, and Bacardi all fighting her at once, she is far too nimble for any of them to land a hit on her, and she strikes without repercussion before darting away again.

“So, are you going to do anything, Greed?”  Ling asks.

“Uh …”

Greed hears the sound of another transmutation being performed from behind him, and watches as, seemingly out of nowhere, explosions rupture into Ballantine’s fur, and she falls to the ground, skidding across to the edge of the seats.  The other chimeras look past Greed, mouths agape, and he looks behind himself to see Chase with his hand on a transmutation circle of his own.

“That was alkahestry,” Ling says in surprise.  “He’s good.”

“Take that!”  Chase shouts, his fists balled.

“Chase!”  Panicked, Hennessy rushes over, pushing him out of the way.  “What are you, crazy?  Get out of--!”

While Hennessy has her back to Ballantine, she shifts her weight until she’s propped up on all fours, and takes a bounding leap towards Hennessy, fangs bared--

--But her teeth instead clamp down upon Greed’s arm, encased in the Ultimate Shield.

“That was a cheap shot,” he says through gritted teeth.  “While she’s trying to get her kid out of the way?  You’re messed up, lady.”

As Ballantine continues to bite down on him, Hennessy wastes no time in dragging Chase to safety, and the others continue to watch on in surprise.

“Hey, you did it, Greed!”  Ed cheers.  “Now punch her!”

“What?  Absolutely not--!”

Without hesitation, Ballantine rears back and lunges in towards Greed’s neck, biting through it and knocking him over.

“... Nice going, Greed.”

Greed’s attempts to defend himself as he’s being mauled are half-hearted at best, but he’s at last saved when Heinkel plunges towards Ballantine from the side, puncturing her with his claws.  Ballantine tries to dart away, but Heinkel does not let go and continues to swipe at and wound her until she grows too feeble to fight back.

“You shouldn’t have left yourself exposed from behind,” Heinkel taunts, throwing her against the wall of the tent where she crumples into a heap.  Though Ballantine seems too weak to move, he continues to advance.  “You may be hard to catch, but it looks like you go down after a few hits…”

“That’s far enough, Mr. Heinkel,” Bacardi calls out.  “Don’t kill her.”

Heinkel shoots her a confused look.

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” she admits.  “But Ballantine’s still family to me.  Please.”

With a sigh, Heinkel retracts his claws and instead grabs the barely-conscious Ballantine, dragging her back towards where the others are congregated.

“Oh, Heinkel, my hero, you saved me,” Greed says from where he still lays on the ground.

“Don’t make it weird.”

Once everyone is gathered together, they stand over Ballantine, who is beginning to stir a bit on the ground, morphing back into her human form.

“So, what are you gonna do with her?”  Edward asks.

“Um…”  Bacardi heaves a sigh.  “Ballantine, I’m … sorry.  I know I haven’t been the best friend to you in the past, and I guess I forgot about that.  But I want to make it up to you--”

“I’m not interested,” Ballantine says flatly.  “Stop asking.”

Hennessy puts a hand on Bacardi’s shoulder.  “Sorry, Ballantine.  We can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but … we can’t exactly let you go, either, seeing as you’re trying to get these folks arrested.  So we’ll have to—“

“I should mention,” Ballantine says weakly, “The troops outside have been instructed to storm the grounds should I not return after three hours.”

“That’s still in violation of our agreement,” Hennessy tells her.  “If you want the Fullmetal Alchemist alive—“

“They don’t know the details of the agreement.  If you won’t let me go, then I’ll drag you down with me.”

Hennessy remains still for a long time before responding.  “Fine.  Just get out of here.”

As Ballantine shakily gets to her feet, Darius placidly attempts to help her, but she shoves him away.

“A little word of advice,” Ballantine announces, glancing around at the fugitives.  “You’ll have to leave this circus eventually.  When you do, you’re better off heading back north to Dublith.  The further south you go, the harder it will be for you to get away from the military.”

With that, Ballantine turns and staggers out of the tent.

“Don’t think about blaming us for this,” Ed says quietly to Bacardi.  “You brought this on yourself.  You put your circus and that kid in danger by inviting her here, and you tore apart your own relationship with her.”

“And you neglected to mention that neither Ballantine nor Bido seemed to look at you that favorably as a friend,” Greed points out.

“I wanted to make things up to them,” Bacardi scowls.  “Both of them.  I wanted to make things up to Bido, too, but you stole that from me.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to say it, but you stole from me, t--”

Hennessy slaps Greed hard across the face.

“Really wish I could permanently disfigure you,” Hennessy mutters.  “But you should be jumping for joy, Greed.  You won the bet.  You can never, ever, give back what you stole, but we’re gonna pay you back in full for everything we took from you.  Happy?”

“Uh--”

“Back in a jiff,” she says, exiting through the tent flap.  

The rest of them stand almost motionless, save for Chase, who walks over to Bacardi and hugs her at the waist.  “It’s okay, Bacardi.  Please don’t be sad.”

Bacardi bends down and squeezes him back tightly before going to search the floor of the tent for where her sunglasses had fallen.  Around the same time, Hennessy re-emerges into the Big Top, her arms full.

“Your travel supplies,” Hennessy says, shoving the bag into Greed’s arms.  “20,000 cens, two cognacs--”

“And your favorite pair of sunglasses,” Bacardi finishes, pushing the fractured lenses onto his face.

“Sorry to see you go, Darius,” Hennessy says, putting a hand on his back.  “And it was a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Heinkel.  I really am sorry about all this.  It’s my fault.”

“I’m sorry too, Hennessy,” Darius replies.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Heinkel shrugs.

“Do you guys really have to go?”  Chase asks.  “I’ll miss you…”

Heinkel bends down to ruffle his hair.  “You’re a good, talented kid, and you’ve got a great mommy who cares a lot about you.  You’ll be alright, Chase.”

“Hey.”  Greed stands almost awkwardly with the oddities collected in his arms.  “Uh … you know you guys don’t actually have to go with me, right?  You can make your own decisions.  I can’t really stop you if you just want to stay here.”

“Ah, yeah,” Edward gulps.  “We just … really wanted you guys back, you know.  It’s just not the same without you on our team, right?  Guess you’re not as replaceable as I thought.  But if you’re happier here at the circus, that’s fine too.”

“Ed, you don’t have to go guilt tripping them,” Greed tells him.

“I’m not guilt tripping!”

“Well?”  Hennessy looks to Darius and Heinkel.  “Guess it’s up to you, then.  We’re more than happy to accommodate you if you want to stay here with us.”

Heinkel looks around at everyone.  “Hm … I think I’ll go with whatever Darius decides.”

“Oh, that’s a lot of pressure.”  Darius sucks in his breath, looking around at the others before his gaze settles on Ed and Greed.  “I stand by what I said before.  You guys are a bunch of assholes.  You trying to trade us around like that didn’t exactly help my opinion of you.  Greed, you’re a self-absorbed nutjob.  Ed, you’re an insufferably pretentious little smartass … but you are still a kid.  A little kid.  You’re twelve, right?”

“I’M SIXTEEN!”  Edward bellows.

“Point is, I wouldn’t exactly be a responsible adult if I left you and Ling by yourselves with a weirdo like Greed,” Darius sighs.  “So it’s better if we stick around with you guys.  God knows you’ll probably get yourselves killed if we leave you to fend for yourselves.”

“Good point,” Heinkel adds.  “Guess it’s settled, then.  We’re sticking with you to the bitter end after all.”

“Yeah, it is probably for the best, then,” Bacardi says glumly.  “For the love of God, I hope I never see you back here again, Mr. Greed.  Everyone else is welcome back here if they like, but I’ll look into bannin’ you.”

“Do we really have to?”  Chase asks, looking up at her.

“Chase, he--”

“I hate to play devil’s advocate, but Greed really saved Hennessy’s ass back there,” Heinkel points out.

“Oh.”  Hennessy makes a face.  “Yeah, that was pretty embarrassing…”

“Wasn’t trying to,” Greed deflects.  “Like I said, I thought it was a cheap shot.”

Hennessy squints, putting a hand to her chin.  “No, I feel like I owe you or something now … I don’t like that … um … alright.  Unbanned.”

Bacardi shrugs.  “Look, you disgust me, Mr. Greed.  There’s no forgiveness for you in my heart.  But sure, that’s fair.  Don’t know why you’d want to come back for a visit, though.  Or if you’ll even manage to find us again.”

“Manage to find you again?”  Ed repeats.  “What are you, going off the grid?”

“This is a traveling circus,” Hennessy informs him.  “Did I forget to mention that?  The only reason we stayed in the south here for so long is because, you know, we were trying to round up Darius and Ballantine and Bido.  Didn’t get anyone in the end, but I guess we’ll be onto the next big thing now, huh?”

“You … bounced back fast,” Darius says in surprise.  “I thought it was your other big dream to have us all here with you.  You’re really not disappointed?”

Hennessy waves a hand dismissively.  “Guess I shouldn’t be.  I’m the one who gambled it all away, after all.  But we’ll always have new dreams, new possibilities.  That’s how we keep moving forward.”

Greed begins laughing hysterically, nearly dropping the bottles in his arms.

“Something must be real funny.”

“Sorry, it’s just…”  Greed manages to collect himself.  “We really are alike, aren’t we, Hennessy?  Sure I said it before, but we’re both the type of people who want it all, but we don’t let stuff like losing set us back when there’s always more to have.  I guess that’s what really sets people like us apart from humans.”

“I’m nothing like you, Mr. Greed,” Hennessy says matter-of-factly.  “I am human.  And I love being human.  I’m not like you because I cherish what I already have instead of obsessing over how I can get more of it, how I can replace it.  It’s the reason I’m able to love my son, my circus, my family, the way a human can.  But you’ll never understand that.  You just want for the sake of wanting, Mr. Greed.”

“God, I hate you so much,” Greed mutters, shoving the travel bags into Ed’s arms.  “Let’s get out of here.”

“We’ll show you out, then,” Bacardi replies.

As all of them exit the Big Top, however, they soon bear witness to an old man running across the grounds towards them.

“Uh oh,” Ling says suddenly.  “I had a hunch about this, but …”

“A hunch about what?”

“Miss Hennessy,” the old man greets, wheezing a bit.  “That woman left in one of the cars, but there’s still a dozen military vehicles surrounding the grounds.”

“Shoot,” she sighs.  “Probably waiting for their fugitives to come out.”

“Perhaps it would be best to—“  The man’s gaze suddenly turns to Greed.  “ You .”

“Me?”

“I knew it was you, Prince Yao,” the old man seethes, lunging forward to grab Greed by the lapel of his jacket.  “You have done something terrible to your body, for such a foul chi to radiate from you.”

“Hey, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Greed protests.  “I’m Greed.  The Avaricious.  Esquire.”

“That’s Wen Yao!”  Ling announces.  “My old alkahestry tutor and maternal grand-uncle.  He’s probably going to kill us.”

“So the prince has allowed a demon to enter his body,” Wen concludes.  “Not surprised.  He was always rather lacking in conventional wisdom.”

“Sorry, wait, you’re an alkahestry tutor or something?”  Greed asks.

“I used to be one of the most renowned throughout all of Xing,” Wen boasts.  “Until Prince Yao ruined me.  Nowadays, my only student is young Chase, but he will be my instrument of revenge against the very court that exiled me.”

“Are you really just gonna say that in front of him?”  Ed asks.

“He’s okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it,” Chase repeats.

“Geez, no wonder that kid is so talented,” Darius comments.  “How old are you, little guy?”

“Six.”

“My God.  He’s giving you a run for your money, Ed.”

“Oh, big deal,” Ed retorts.  “I was doing alchemy when I was five.”

“Wait a minute,” Greed interrupts.  “Hey, gramps, you could teach me alchemy, right?”

“Alkahestry.”

“Whatever.”

Wen’s hand moves to Greed’s chin, and he stares at him for a few moments.  “I cannot.”

“And why’s that?”

“There is nothing I can teach to a being with only a fragment of a soul to call his own,” Wen explains.  “You may have hundreds of other souls augmenting your own, but you will never be able to learn alkahestry the same way that a human could.”

“Oh,” Greed answers, incredibly dismayed.  “Okay.  Thanks, I guess.”

“Must say I’m a bit worried about the whole revenge thing,” Ling mentions.

“Should the prince be worried about your little revenge ploy?”

“Oh, not unless he was, say, the Emperor,” Wen shrugs.  “But I would advise he watch his back regardless.”  With that, Wen begins to walk away towards one of the other tents.

“Okay, that was weird,” Greed says.  “Can we get as far away from the circus people as possible now?”

“How do you wanna do that, genius?”  Heinkel pipes up.  “This place is surrounded by military cars, remember?”

“Much as I hate the idea, I can let you folks stay a little while longer if you need to plan your next move,” Hennessy offers.

“That won’t be necessary,” Edward responds.  “I’ve already got an idea, actually.  Hennessy, can we borrow one of your vehicles?”

“No.”

“That’s okay, I can probably make it work without it,” Ed sighs.  “Let’s head to the forest side.  Greed, are you ready to go?”

“Yes.  Finally.”

“Hey, uh … hope we see each other again someday, Hennessy, Bacardi,” Darius says to them.  “Thank you for everything.  I mean it.”

Hennessy embraces Darius tightly.  “Never give up on your dream, alright, Darius?  You find what makes you happy.”

“Yeah, don’t be a stranger,” Bacardi laughs.  “Take good care of that kid.”

“I will,” Darius promises, waving as he starts to follow the rest of his companions to the forest’s edge.

“And don’t forget!”  Hennessy calls after them.  “Everyone’s welcome here from all walks of life!  The rich man, the poor man!  The outcasts, the freaks, the rejects!  Everyone belongs, everyone’s one of ours!”

Greed tries to tune out the sound of her laughing in the distance as he strains to look at the vehicles lying in wait up ahead.

“So, did that go as well as you hoped, Greed ?”  Ling says to him.

“I feel … empty, again.”

“Sorry.  Is it really bad this time?”

“I’ll be fine —“

“Okay,” Ed starts.  “So there’s five cars that we’d be in line of sight for here.”  He claps his hands together and seemingly transmutes the ground, to no immediately apparent effect.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Darius says.  “So what’s your plan?”

“Get ready to run past when I say,” Ed announces, clapping his hands together again.  

“Run past the cars—?”

As Ed slams his hands back to the ground, tall rock walls rise up around the cars.  “Okay, now!”

Without hesitation, everyone joins Edward in sprinting for the forest, stepping over what appears to be rocky spikes dotting the perimeter.

“Aren’t you worried about the troops on the other side noticing?”  Darius points out.

“The MPs in the cars nearest to us can’t run after us,” Edward contends.  “But nobody can follow us if everyone’s tires are punctured!”

“Oh, that’s a fun trick,”  Heinkel commends him.  

“Did you only target the military cars with that, or was it the whole area?”  Darius asks.  “I’m just worried about Hennessy’s trucks.”

“Well, she can suck it up.”

The four of them continue to run through the forest until they reach a rocky cliff, over which they can see very far in the distance the twinkling lights of the next town.

“Think we made it?”  Heinkel asks, turning to look at everyone.

“Yeah, I got us out okay,” Edward brags.  “They don’t call me the Fullmetal Alchemist for nothing.”

“Why do they call you the Fullmetal Alchemist, anyways?”

“Because that’s the title the Führer gave me.”

“Well, that doesn’t really clarify — what are you doing, Greed?”

Greed throws the two bottles of cognac off the cliff, then takes the sunglasses off of his face and tosses them as well.  Lastly, he holds out the clip of money given to him—

“Greed, no!”  Ed begs.  “Don’t throw the money!  Don’t throw the money!”

Greed pauses, then returns his hand to his side.  “Yeah, that’s not worth it.  Sorry, guess I just didn’t really want ‘em anymore.”

“And you went to all the trouble of getting them back,” Heinkel jokes.  “I can’t believe you threw out something you wanted.  You don’t deserve to call yourself Greed!”

“Yeah, ha-ha,” Greed sighs.  “Look, I just wanted to say, uh … I am … sorry to both of you, Darius and Heinkel.  Even though I’m the, uh, leader of this group, I can be an ass sometimes, and I should probably be more considerate of your input.  You guys aren’t just henchmen, you’re all members of the Homunculus Brotherhood.  Or the Chimera Brotherhood, if you guys prefer that.”

“And we’ll stick to using your actual names from now on,” Ed joins in.  “Darius.  Heinkel.  It’s thanks to both of you guys that I’m not lying dead in a mine shaft.  I really appreciate that.”

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Darius snorts.  “You guys acting all nice.  You know what, you can go back to the dumb nicknames.  It feels weird hearing you guys call me Darius.”

“Eh, same here,” Heinkel nods.  “And we should probably have a less complicated name than the Chimera Brotherhood.  Like, uh, I don’t know, Team Ed, or Team Greed.  Since you’re kind of the leaders.”

“Well, Team Greed, obviously,” Greed rejoins.  “Wait, I don’t have a funny nickname for you, Heinkel!  I gotta think of one.  Can I call you Huxley?  What about cat-boy?”

“Special exception for you, Greed.  You’re only allowed to call me Heinkel.”

“Well, if that’s settled, should we keep moving?”  Darius asks.

“Yeah, get as far from the MPs as possible,” Greed nods.

They begin walking along the cliff in silence for a bit as the ground begins to slope downward, the chill of winter hanging in the air.

“Um … I might as well ask this, too,” Greed says, scratching his head.  “Do … you guys resent me for killing Bido?”

“I didn’t know him personally, so I have nothing to hold against you,” Ed says immediately.  “But it’s like we talked about before.  Know better and do better.”

“You know I’d be a hypocrite for judging you,” Heinkel adds.  “So no.”

Darius, to whom the question had mostly been directed, remains curiously silent.

“You feel a little better now, Greed?”  Ling asks.

“Yeah, I guess so.  Man, I guess it was Hennessy really pissing me off.  Hope I never have to see her again.”

“I think you were right before,” Ling muses.  “About you and Hennessy being the same … well, if you think about it, in some ways she’s even greedier than you!  So funny how she left your gang because you didn’t have enough to offer her.  She out-greeded you.”

“Is that what you think?”  Greed snickers.  “Hennessy might think she dreams big, but she still doesn’t dream nearly as big as me.  I’m going to rule the entire world, remember?”

Chapter Text

“Well, shit.”

The dim lights in the tunnel flicker, and Greed heaves a sigh as he watches the monstrous chimeras dismember the body in front of him.  Even considering the fact that they haven’t been fed in a while, they seem particularly ravenous today.

“I tell ya, Ling, this job isn’t any fun,” he yawns.  “Seems like every time I find an intruder, the chimeras get to ‘em first.  Think it was another homeless guy?”

“Most likely,” Ling decides.  “But I have to wonder -- are you really so excited at the prospect of killing every poor human who wanders down here?”

“It’s the only exciting thing I have to do in here.  I already named all of the chimeras.”

“Are you saying I’m not an entertaining conversation partner?”

“Didn’t say that,” Greed contends.  “I get restless, alright?  Wouldn’t you get bored if your job was to walk around a bunch of musty tunnels all day?”

“Well, if I had my body back--”

“Nice try, brat, but it’s not happening.”

“I wasn’t trying to convince you that time.  Just speaking hypothetically.  But never mind, I just realized something.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t name that one.”

“Huh?  I didn’t?”  Greed leans over, squinting at the still-feasting chimeras.  “Which one?  We’ve got Rockjaw … Boneslayer … Ling Jr. … oh, you mean this little guy?”  He points to a scaly green chimera with a shrunken, almost humanoid-looking head.

“Yeah, he looks like a little person.”

“Yeah…” Greed puts his hand to his chin.  “Let’s see … uh … I got nothin’.  Why don’t you name him, Ling?”

“You want me to name him ?  Hmm … what about Junjie?”

“Junjie?”

“It means handsome.”

“I don’t know … not that he’s not handsome, but he doesn’t look like a Junjie…”

“Then what about --”

“Oh, I’ve got it!  Skullcrusher.  Thanks, Ling!”  Greed gives Skullcrusher a few loving pats as it rips the flesh off of the corpse’s arm with its teeth.

“Anytime.”

Greed gets up suddenly, heaving a sigh.  “Wonder what pops is up to.”

Tearing his attention away from the chimeras, he turns around and walks back the way he came, his footsteps echoing through the empty tunnel until he at last recognizes the pathway to Father’s chamber.  Though slightly alarmed to discover that the door is open, he makes his way inside without too much urgency, absentmindedly glancing at the wires and tubes that line the ceiling.  When his gaze moves back to the room in front of him, he sees a small, familiar silhouette standing some ways away from Father’s throne.

“Huh,” Greed mutters.  “Now, this is a rare sight.  Pride.”

Pride turns to look at Greed, giving him an empty smile before turning back to watch Father, who sits motionless and faces away from them, barely visible from behind his throne.

Greed bends down a bit, leaning his head over Pride’s shoulder.  “What’s dad up to?”

“He’s sleeping.”

“Huh … two rare sights in one day.”

“You could draw on his face,” Ling suggests.

“Hey, you wanna draw on his face?”  Greed asks.

Pride, who had seemed utterly detached just a moment ago, snaps his head away to glare at Greed.  “No, Greed.  You would disrespect our Father like that?”

“Yeesh, sorry.”  Greed rises back to his full height and steps back.  “Didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

Huffing, Pride turns and starts walking out of the room.  “It’s a bit concerning, Greed.  I won’t sit by and encourage your misbehavior.”

“Said I was sorry,” Greed complains, following him.  “What do you want, a written apology?”

“Just … don’t do anything like that,” Pride warns him.  “Where did you even get such a ridiculous notion in your head?”

“Oh, it was the human’s idea,” Greed shrugs.

Pride stiffens.  “The original owner of your body?”

“Yup.”

“He hasn’t lost his individuality within you, yet?”

“Nope.”

“...Then get rid of him, Greed,” Pride replies.  “He’s poisoning your mind.”

“I mean, first of all, I don’t know how to do that--”

Greed suddenly notices that Pride’s shadows have emerged to surround him, and he sees what appears to be dozens of arms wriggling like the legs of insects.

“The hell..?”

“I’ll get rid of him for you, Greed,” Pride offers.  “Just give me your philosopher’s stone.”

“...No.”

“This isn't the time for games, Greed.  I just need to borrow it so I can--”

“No, he’s mine!”  Greed shoves Pride away roughly, causing him to stumble.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I should ask you the same thing,” Greed snarls.  “You’re trying to steal one of my possessions!”

“It’s just a human, Greed,” Pride retorts, the disgust in his voice clear.  “It’s useless.  You don’t need it.”

“You and Wrath have a human,” Greed points out.  “Why shouldn’t I?”

“That’s … different.  Mrs. Bradley’s presence is necessary to maintain an illusion of normalcy for the other humans.  It makes them think that Wrath is just like them.”

“You tellin’ me every human is married?”

“That’s--”

“Yeah, right, you don’t need her either!  There’s no difference between you guys keeping the Madam Führer around and me keeping the prince around.  You just don’t want to admit it!”

Pride seethes, his shadows retreating back into the darkness.  “Keep him, then.  I would never stoop to sharing my body with a human, but maybe that suits a worm like you just fine, Greed.”

“Real nice, Pride.”

“But I’m going to give you the same advice that I gave to your predecessor,” Pride continues.  “Humans aren’t your friends, Greed, and you aren’t to treat them as such.”

“My predecessor, huh?”  Greed scratches his head.  “You mean the old Greed.”

Pride nods.  “Friends aren’t something you can own.  They’re partnerships that humans have with each other.  The old Greed didn’t understand that.  He wound up with nothing in the end.  He was weak.”

“I think friends count as something you can own.  It’s just that the other person owns you back, right?”

“We’re not debating this, Greed.”

“Got it, got it.”

“Just keep the human under control,” Pride commands.  “This is the last time I’m going to warn you.  Wrath told me about how the human took possession of you in front of him … if that ever happens in front of me, I won’t hesitate to consume him.  And you won’t have a choice the next time.”  With that, Pride begins walking away.

“Consume him?”  Greed asks, taking a step forward.  “Like, you’re gonna eat him?”

Pride does not turn around or respond, disappearing down the hallway.

“...Good talk, brother!”

“You’re not actually going to do what he says, are you?”  Ling asks.

“Hey, you zip it,” Greed says in a low voice.  “You gotta stop … poisoning my mind, or whatever, got it?”

“You know, Greed, you don’t have to listen to what I tell you .  It’s really simple.”

“I can’t help it,” he grunts.  “Sometimes it feels like you’re my conscience.”

“Maybe I am your conscience.”

“Yeah, right … really?”

“Perhaps Ling was consumed when you took over, and I’ve merely adopted his form.”

“No way…”

“And you should let me take over!  I’ll make all the decisions for you!”

“Yeah, right, I knew you were messing with me!  Nice try, conscience!  I mean, Ling.”

“I’m hurt .  Why do you listen to your brother but not me, your favorite human?”

“Well, now that I think about it, my old man might get pissed if I draw on his face--”

“No, this isn’t about that .  You don’t actually want to do everything that Father and Pride tell you to do, right ?  You said it yourself -- guarding the tunnels all day is pretty boring .  Don’t you want more?”

Greed laughs.  “Hey, you’re speaking my language … ‘course I want everything, but I gotta do what my pops tells me, first and foremost.  He created me, so I’ve gotta obey him, y’know?  And you remember what he said; the old Greed was disobedient and weak, and that’s what got him killed.  Father purified me, so I’m not weak like him.”

“That’s rather hypocritical, Greed .  I thought you said you wanted everything the world has to offer .  But I suppose that exempts whatever your Father says is off the table ?  Wouldn’t you rather be free to do what you want?”

“You’re trying to screw with my head again, aren’t you?”  Greed snaps.  “Quit messing around, brat, I’m serious.  And stop trying to take over my body!  I don’t want Pride to eat you or nothin’, alright?”

“Whatever you say, Greed.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Greed resumes his trek through the winding tunnels, until he hears a sniffing sound from up ahead.  A pair of glowing eyes loom at him from the darkness before him, and he recognizes the chimera as it bounds toward him.

“Hey, Skullcrusher’s back!”  Greed beams, crouching down to pat its head.  “How was your lunch, little guy?”

Skullcrusher makes a series of retching noises as globules of saliva dribble out of its mouth.

“Huh … maybe you’re right, Ling,” Greed ponders.  “He is more of a Junjie, isn’t he?”

-------------------------------------------------------

“You think that Armstrong woman did something to General Raven?”  Heinkel asks Kimblee.

“I don’t think it, I know it for a fact,” he replies.  “She’s a troublesome one, but she won’t have control of the Fort for much longer.”

“But you’re not worried about them trying anything while we’re up in Baschool tomorrow.”

“There should be more Central forces arriving at the Fort tomorrow afternoon.  The Führer was more than happy to oblige me and, well … it looks like the General may be relieved of her duties here rather soon.”

Heinkel nods.  “Seems as though you’ve thought it through, Mr. Kimblee.”

“We’ll have to focus our attention on capturing Scar right now, anyways.  That’s what Edward Elric wants, after all.  Interesting kid … Darius, you’ve been quiet.  What’s your opinion of the Fullmetal Alchemist?”

“...I think he’s a little shit,” Darius answers.  “Making demands like that, like he thinks he’s in charge…”

Kimblee snickers.  “You’re blunt, Darius.  I like it.  Well, we’re going to have to keep a close watch on him, no doubt about it.  I don’t have him under my thumb quite yet.”

Everyone’s attention turns ahead of them as Jerso and Zampano appear from around the corner, saluting as they approach.  “Mr. Kimblee.”

“Oh, perfect timing,” Kimblee greets, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.  “We’ll need to discuss our plans for tomorrow.  Shouldn’t take long, really.”

“So Scar was last spotted entering that old mining town,” Jerso recalls.  

“And Dr. Marcoh’s gotta be there with him, no doubt about it,” Zampano adds.

“Yes, we need Scar dead and Marcoh alive,” Kimblee affirms.  “Major Miles and some of his troops are planning to accompany us, and Edward Elric wants his brother there with him … that’s what we're dealing with.  You four are the only ones I can trust … I wouldn’t put it past the Major to have an ulterior motive, but I’ll be keeping an eye on him.  That leaves the Elric brothers … Darius and Heinkel, you’re going to watch them for me.”

“Consider it done,” Heinkel says.

“Jerso and Zampano, you’ll focus on looking for Scar and Marcoh,” Kimblee orders.  “You’re familiar with their case files, correct?”

“Read ‘em through,” Jerso confirms.  “Scar’s right arm is the biggest threat we’re up against, sounds like.”

“Not for nothing, but I don’t want Scar blowing my head off,” Zampano shrugs.  “If things get out of hand, we’d better bail and call for backup.”

“Are you serious?”  Kimblee says, raising an eyebrow.

“Something wrong with what I said?”

“You’re supposed to be elite soldiers,” Kimblee answers.  “I asked for Central’s most elite soldiers to help me bring in Scar.  I wasn’t expecting a coward who can’t face one Ishvalan without turning tail mixed in the bunch.  You’re not a coward, are you, Zampano?”

“No, sir,” Zampano says firmly.

“Then I don’t want to hear it.  Do your job right or don’t bother coming back.  Hm … actually, if you come back empty-handed, I might just kill you myself.  It’s been years since I’ve gotten to blow someone up, you know.”

“Is this a joke?”  Jerso grunts.  “You can’t do that!”

Kimblee gives him a wolfish grin.  “All of you were assigned to me.  You’re mine now.  I can do whatever I want with you.  And I think I’ll kill you if you fail in your assignment.  Agreed?”

Jerso and Zampano are utterly quiet and motionless, neither wanting to answer.

“You’re dismissed.”  As the two of them turn and walk back the way they came, Kimblee turns to the other chimeras.  “Any thoughts, Darius?”

Darius looks at him like a deer in headlights.  “I, uh, I don’t … no, I don’t have anything to say.”

“Where’d all that confidence go?”  Kimblee sneers.  “You’re afraid to speak your mind all of the sudden.  You’re not a coward, too, are you?”

“With all due respect, Mr. Kimblee, the threats aren’t necessary,” Heinkel says firmly.  “Jerso and Zampano won’t fare any better against Scar with that sort of negative reinforcement.”

“I disagree,” Kimblee says nonchalantly.  “When one is close to death, that’s when you truly see them start to fight … fight for their lives, fight for victory.  It’s a performance unlike any other, don’t you think?”

Kimblee exchanges a look with Heinkel, who returns it impassively.

“See, I’m a firm believer in survival of the fittest,” he continues.  “Animals such as yourselves ought to be familiar with it -- it’s the rule of the jungle, after all … and at Briggs, it’s one they abide by religiously.  Outlast your opponent, kill or be killed … a true test to see who is the strongest, who will survive and come out on top.  And I’m curious to see whether it will be the chimeras or the Ishvalan who wins when pitted against each other.  It wasn’t an empty threat, though.  I really will kill them if they prove too weak to survive.  That means they’re more useful to me dead than alive.  And the same goes for the two of you … but you have nothing to be afraid of so long as you do what I ask of you.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Darius and Heinkel say at the same time.

“Well, I’m going to go get some rest,” Kimblee announces, turning away.  “We’ll see each other in the morning.”

Darius and Heinkel remain motionless, waiting until the sound of Kimblee’s footsteps echoing down the hallway finally disappears.

“What the hell,” Darius shudders.  “He really wants to kill us, huh?”

“He doesn’t want us dead, Darius, he wants results,” Heinkel answers.  “You heard him.  Survival of the fittest; victory or death.”

“Why are you so calm about it?”  Darius snaps.  “No way this is normal for you guys.  Even Jerso and Zampano are freaked out.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Heinkel shrugs.  “But you are, right?”

“No, it’s just--”

“It’s written all over your face,” Heinkel points out.  “You don’t want to die.  Why is that?”

“I … what the hell.  Do I need to justify my reason for living to you now or something?”

“You just need to identify it for yourself.  You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.  But that reason is what’s going to keep you alive up here.”

“Huh.”  Darius thinks for a moment.  “What’s your reason, then?”

“Simple one, really,” Heinkel replies.  “My animal instincts are telling me that I want to stay alive.”

“Well … me too, I guess,” Darius tells him.  “Still, I feel like I need a better reason.  All I do with my life is work for nutjobs like Mr. Kimblee.”

“Stay alive long enough to find a better reason, then.”  Heinkel puts a hand on his shoulder.  “Look … neither of us are going to die up here.  I’ll make sure of that.  Got it?”

Darius nods.  “I’ll, uh … hold you to it, then.”

-------------------------------------------------------

“Thanks for getting us away from those guys, Major Miles,” Edward thanks him as the Major finishes locking the door.  “They were breathing down our necks.”

“You mean the other men that Kimblee brought from Central?”  Alphonse asks.

“Yeah, Mutton Chops guy and Mustache guy.”

“Are you talking about … Mr. Darius and Mr. Heinkel?”  Miles asks quizzically.

“Those are their names?  Whatever, I don’t care.”

“I’m worried about Winry,” Alphonse says, staring out the window at the raging blizzard.  “You really think she’s going to be okay with Scar?”

“I don’t trust him, but we have no other choice,” Edward laments.  “It was the only way we were gonna get them away from Kimblee on such short notice…”  He squeezes his fist.  “If he does anything to her, I…”

Alphonse puts a hand on Edward’s shoulder.  “I think she’ll be okay.  They have Doctor Marcoh and Mei and those two chimeras with them, remember?”

“Chimeras … you’re talking about those men who could turn into beasts?”  Miles pushes his glasses up his face.  “To be frank with you, I’m more worried about them than I am about Scar.  Not only because they’re Kimblee’s men -- we don’t have any real evidence that they switched sides -- but because we don’t know exactly what they’re capable of.”

“Yeah … they seem different from the chimeras we met in Dublith,” Edward nods.  “But you would know more about that than me, Al.”

Alphonse looks down at the floor.  “Yeah…”

“So this isn’t your first time meeting one of these creatures,” Miles comments.  “Tell me what you know about them.”

Edward scowls.  “Up until a month or two ago, I didn’t even think it was possible for human chimeras to be made like that … we studied the creation of chimeras a bit.  It’s the process of transmuting two animals together to create a new one … but performing that on a human is illegal.  It falls in line with the practice of human transmutation.  There was a State Alchemist named Shou Tucker who was known for creating chimeras … he transmuted his wife and his daughter.  It was horrible.  They arrested him for what he did, and we thought that was the end of it … kind of makes me wonder why the military kept Tucker around, if they were already so advanced at creating chimeras like that…”

“You know why, Ed,” Al says solemnly.  “They keep all the State Alchemists around as potential sacrifice candidates.  Bradley more or less told us that.”

“Well, Tucker’s dead now.”

“But you met other chimeras that were created by the military?”  Miles asks.

“Yeah … they look human, but they’re not,” Alphonse says.  “They were soldiers who got injured and taken back to a lab to be experimented on.  A lot of them escaped, though … and they were working for a homunculus named Greed.”

“That doesn’t seem a bit redundant to you?  I thought you said the homunculi were working alongside the military higher-ups.”

“This guy wasn’t, apparently,” Ed frowns.  “That didn’t make him any better than them, though.  He and his goons kidnapped Al, and they tried to get me to tell them how to bind a soul to a suit of armor.  Like it was some better way to live…”

“Bradley killed them all,” Alphonse recounts, his voice trembling.  “He killed Martel.  I was supposed to protect her.  I couldn’t do anything…”

Edward sighs.  “It wasn’t right, but you don’t have to feel sorry for them, Al.  They were a bunch of criminals who tried to dismantle you--”

“They were just like me.  I don’t think they were bad people.  They were just like me, Ed.  They lost their human bodies … and maybe they could’ve gotten them back, but they never got the chance.  I just want things to be different this time.  I was too late to help Nina … I couldn’t help Martel … but maybe this will be different.  I want to believe that.  I don’t want anyone else to die.”

Edward is silent for a long moment, drinking in Al’s words.

“Hm.”  Miles offers Alphonse a wry smile.  “To be honest with you, while I still have my suspicions about those two chimeras … I think you got through to them earlier, Alphonse.  I think they do want to find a way to get their bodies back, just like you.”

“Yeah … and they will,” Edward decides.  “Count on it.”

Chapter Text

“Are we sure we want to go to South City?”  Edward asks.

“Hey, you were the one who suggested it in the first place,” Darius shoots back.  “But it’s probably safer than going back up north.”

“How so?  Ballantine said we were in more danger the further south we went.”

“No, I’m with Gorius, I don’t trust Ballantine,” Greed says.  “Think about it -- it’s her job to capture us, not help us.  She’s probably trying to lure us back to Dublith to trap us.  It’s a bluff.”

“What if it’s a double bluff?”  Heinkel points out.  “She’s expecting us to do the opposite based on what she told us.”

“Oooor it’s a triple bluff ,” Ling adds.  “ She thinks that we don’t trust her suggestion but we know that she’s expecting us to not do the opposite of what she suggested because that was her plan all along so we’ll actually do what she suggested.”

“I mean, I’ll lay this out for you guys,” Greed continues.  “The Promised Day is almost two months away, and we still need to get Ed to the old lady in Resembool.  Walking to Resembool is out of the question at this point, considering we’ve already lost about three weeks of time and we’re even further away from the east than we were before we got kidnapped.  Also, the last town we went to was further south than the circus, but there was no military presence there whatsoever.  Lastly, we are way closer to South City than we are to Dublith.  Probably like a week’s walk from here.  We could just walk in with those disguises and catch a train back to Central on the same day, and we are pretty stocked up on the cologne now.”

“Yeah, that’s fair enough,” Ed shrugs.

“I hate to be the one to ask this, but is getting Ed to Resembool really the most useful thing we could be doing right now?”  Heinkel argues.

“Hey, we need him in peak condition for the Promised Day,” Greed replies.  “Why, what else would we be doing?”

“Maybe assembling an army,” Heinkel suggests.  “Unless you want it to just be the four of us storming Central.  As far as we know, we’re the only ones aware of the Promised Day outside of Father and his cabal.  Don’t you want more people on our side anyways, Greed?  Isn’t wanting more kind of your thing?”

“Hey, Ed’s a one-man army,” Greed jokes.  “But that’s a good point.  I’ll think about it after we hit up Resembool.”

“Hm.”

True to word, as they continue walking, the group passes a sign indicating that South City is rather close by.  Though somewhat chilly, the southern climate is much warmer than it would otherwise be in mid-January were they farther north.

“So, Greed, did you want another alchemy lesson anytime soon?”  Edward asks.

Greed makes a dejected noise.  “You heard that old man.  Much as I want to, I just can’t learn alchemy because my soul is messed up or something.”

“Right,” Ed nods.  “I guess I never really thought about it, but it seems like your ability to use alchemy must be connected to your soul.  And according to him, you, at your core, are only a little piece of a soul.  But, I mean, I can still teach you alchemical theory.”

“Damn,” Greed curses.  “Wish I had cool and fantastical powers like you, Ed, but unfortunately, all I can really do is never die and change my skin to make it harder or whatever.”

“Wait.  Wait a minute.”  Ed slaps the side of his face.  “I’m an idiot!”

“You are?”

“Greed, you’ve been doing alchemy this whole time!”

“What?  No, I haven’t,” Greed protests.  “How have I been doing alchemy?”

“How do you think you produce your Ultimate Shield?”

“That’s just an ability I have,” Greed shrugs.  “An ability I’ve always had.”

“Well, it’s not just magic, there’s a scientific explanation for it,” Ed insists.  “Alchemy is the science of comprehending, deconstructing, and reconstructing matter.  You’re deconstructing and reconstructing your skin as a different material.  That’s what all homunculi do when they regenerate, too -- deconstruct and reconstruct themselves.  It’s alchemy!”

“Well, I control my Ultimate Shield, but I don’t control my regeneration.  Not all the time, anyways.  It just happens automatically.  If my brains get blown out, it’s not like I can even think about growing ‘em back, it just happens.”

“Alchemy that skips the step of comprehension, and moves straight to deconstruction and reconstruction,” Ed realizes.  “Your alchemical abilities are programmed into you.  You do it without even thinking about it, and it’s fueled by the philosopher’s stone within you, which allows you to transmute without a circle as well.  Your Father must have designed you to have those abilities.”

“Wait, so I’m an alchemist, but I can’t control what kind of alchemy I do?”

“Pretty much.  Well, you’re a partial alchemist, I guess, kind of like Scar.  He only does the comprehension and deconstruction steps.”

“Well, shit,” Greed says, scratching his head.  “Okay, that makes sense.  Does that mean I get a cool alchemist name?”

“You can be the Shield Alchemist.”

“What about the Avaricious Alchemist?”

“I wouldn’t say that’s really indicative of your alchemical powers.”

“Well, what does … being the Fullmetal Alchemist say about your powers?”  Greed counters.  “What, is your specialty transforming metal?”

“You know, it actually is?”  Ed informs him.  “In case you haven’t noticed, my automail is my go-to weapon.  And one of my defining feats as an alchemist was transmuting my brother’s soul to a suit of armor, I guess.”

“See, you could’ve answered with that when I asked you this question a week ago,” Heinkel pipes up.

“Sorry about that,” Edward apologizes.  “But uh, yeah.  Mustang is the Flame Alchemist because he has the pretty unique ability to combust things on command.  Armstrong is the, uh, Strong Arm Alchemist because Bradley thinks he’s funny--”

“Oh yeah, I forgot Wrath gives everyone their dumb alchemist names,” Greed mutters.  “Never mind, I don’t want one.”

——————————

Before they step within the limits of South City, Edward does finally manage to help Greed fit the bald cap all the way over his head, but has less success in convincing Heinkel to shave off his mustache.  Regardless, while the larger concentration of military police standing guard is cause for some anxiety, they do manage to enter the city without so much as a second glance from them.

“It must’ve been a double bluff,” Heinkel concludes as they make their way up the crowded street.  “This place really is crawling with military.”

“Well, we’re already here,” Greed shrugs.  “And they haven’t suspected us yet, at least.”

“Well, should we make for the train station?”  Darius suggests.  “Guess we should find a map first.  I have no idea where anything is.”

“I can get us there, no problem,” Ed provides.  “I’ve been here a few times before.  Actually turned in my yearly assessment exam at Southern HQ this past year … though, it’s too bad we can’t stay a little longer; there’s a lot of cool stuff around here.  South City Zoo, the Amestrian Historical Museum, the nickelodeon, the opera house … uh, well, that’s new.”

Edward stops in his tracks and stares, prompting the others to do the same.  Across the street from them on the park green has congregated a group of soldiers in uniform — but they wear red uncharacteristic of the traditional garb of Amestrian soldiers.

“What’s wrong?”  Greed asks.

“Those are Aerugonian soldiers,” Heinkel observes.

“What the hell is going on?”  Edward says.  “What are they doing here, just standing there like that?  We’re at war with Aerugo.”

“Well, a ceasefire was declared a couple months ago,” Heinkel informs him.  “I heard representatives from Aerugo were brought over to negotiate terms of truce, but my guess is it’s taking a while…”

“Wow, you’re in the loop.”

“Well, that’s probably why there're so many Amestrian soldiers here, too,” Darius points out.  “They’re making sure the Aerugonians don’t try anything.”

“Well, we don’t wanna stick around them for too long,” Greed replies.  “Lead the way, Ed.”

Nodding, Ed takes them further through the park, dappled light filtering down on them through the tree branches.  Eventually, they cross by the gated entrance to what Ed recognizes as the zoo, with children laughing and climbing atop the lion statues that guard it.  Amusingly, he glances back to see that Darius is sniffing the air.

“Is that where all your friends live?”  Ed chuckles.

“Shut it, kid,” Darius grumbles.

“Just joking around.”

As they finish crossing the park, the city once again becomes a maze of tall buildings and alleyways, but Edward continues to lead them purposefully.

“We any closer?”  Greed asks.

“Not too far,” Ed says, looking around at the buildings on the street corner.  “Oh, there’s the nickelodeon.  Wonder if there’s anything good playing.”

“The hell is a nickelodeon?”

“Cheap movie theater.”

“Don’t know what that is, either.”

“Greed, do you not know what a movie is?”  Ed turns to him, stunned.  “Motion pictures?  Moving images—?”

“Wait, wait, I know what you’re talking about now,” Greed interrupts.  “Yeah, I, uh, I’ve seen a peep show before, that’s what they called it back in the 80s.  Through the kinetoscope; you have it up to your eye, right?”

“Times have changed,” Ed tells him.  “You can watch ‘em on a big screen now.  And there’s music.”

“No kidding,” Greed says in surprise.  “How many of these fancy movies have you guys seen?”

“Me and Al have seen a few,” Edward recounts.  “They’re pretty expensive to go to in Central, but like I said, cheap in a place like this.  Although, for the price, it’s usually a shorter movie.”

“I’ve only ever watched a movie once,” Heinkel laments.  “Back in ‘07.”

“Never seen a movie in my life,” Darius tells them.

“Guess Ling’s seen like a hundred movies.  Feel like I’ve been living under a rock.”

“I can’t believe Greed and Mr. Gorilla have never seen a real movie!”  Edward says indignantly.  “Well, we’ve gotta change that right now.”

“Is this more important than catching a train?”  Darius asks.

“Yep.  Come on.”

Edward leads them inside the theater and makes his way to the attendant counter, stroking his fake beard.  He manages to obtain for the group four tickets to see “A Trip to the Sun”, and shortly after ushers them into the screening room as they each take a program to read.  The room is somewhat more cramped than a standard theater, as Edward had recalled, and he knowingly gets them seated in the very back row.

“Doesn’t it feel like we’re the only ones here?”  Heinkel asks.  “Aside from those folks in the front making a ruckus.”

“Yeah, it starts in twenty minutes, but it should fill up soon,” Ed responds.

“Why are we sitting in the nosebleed section?”  Greed complains, glancing idly at his program.

“This is the best place to watch from,” Ed protests.  “Sitting in the front sucks because you have to crane your neck to look.  The back row’s the best because you get the full view.”

“Nuh-uh, I’ve been to operas before, this is the worst place to sit,” Greed argues.  “You can barely see what’s going on!  Everything looks tiny!”

“Greed, you see that?”  Edward jabs his thumb at the white canvas in the back of the room.  “That whole thing is the screen.  The movie’s blown up on that; it’s not a stage play.  And this is a pretty small theater, anyways!”

“Yeah, yeah, you know best, kid,” Greed sighs, also stroking his fake beard.

True to word, other moviegoers come in to fill up the seats, but everyone in the group seizes up a bit when a young soldier in Southern Amestrian uniform walks in, making his way over to the back row as well.  Edward sucks in his breath as the soldier walks up to where he is seated near the end of the row.

“Sorry, can I get through?”  The soldier asks meekly, adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry,” Edward stammers, sitting up and squeezing his legs in.  “I—“

He freezes as soon as he makes eye contact with the soldier, who seems to recognize him back.

“Wait, have … we met before?”  Asks Master Sergeant Kain Fuery.

“I … I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, young whippersnapper,” Edward replies, deepening his voice as best he can.  “You’d best run along now, boy.”

“My mistake.  Actually, uh … would you mind if I sat next to you?  If it’s okay.”

“Well, I don’t see why not, young man,” Ed blurts out quickly, glancing the other way to see the rest of his companions shaking their heads furiously.

“Oh, thank you!”  Fuery replies, gently pushing the seat down before settling into it.  “I like the back row the best, too.”

Edward clams up, a million thoughts racing through his head.  He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised to see Fuery here, considering how all Mustang’s men seemed to have been transferred to the far ends of the country, but they couldn’t have picked a worse time to run into each other.  Sincerely, he hopes that Fuery didn’t realize his identity — at this point, it would just be opening another can of worms.

His thoughts become distracted, however, when the lights dim and the movie starts.  As Edward had suspected, it’s rather short and cheaply made, depicting the tale of a man who wishes to travel to the sun, building an extravagantly futuristic ship in order to do so.  At the climax of the movie, the man arrives on the sun, but it is far too hot for him and he begins burning to death.

Greed nudges him.  “Hey, uh … sport.  How’d they get on the sun to film this?  This is crazy.”

“Don’t be stupid, Gr...Greg,” Ed splutters.  “It’s special effects.  They’re not really on the sun, but they designed a set to look like it.”

“Oh, okay, that makes sense.”

As the music crescendos, the screen at last fades to black, and the moviegoers slowly begin to get up and make their way to the exit.  Out of their group, Darius is the first to rise to his feet.

“Well, that was odd,” he comments.  “But interesting.  Thanks for bringing us … pal.”

“That was awesome,” Greed snickers, also getting up.  “We should do this again sometime.”

“You said it, lads,” Ed barks, lurching to his feet along with Heinkel.  “Well, young man, we need to get through, if you please.”

“Just a minute, actually.”  Fuery lowers his voice.  “Fullmetal, it’s you, isn’t it?”

Ed’s eyes dart behind him, and he sees Heinkel already fumbling for his gun.  “Who’s … Fullmetal?  You … run along, young man!”

“Guess I need to get my eyes checked,” Fuery laughs nervously, slowly getting up himself.  “After all, Fullmetal’s pretty, uh … pretty … puny…”

Edward balls his fists.  “Who are you calling—!”

“Sorry, Fullmetal, I didn’t mean it, I just needed to make sure!”  Fuery says in a hushed voice.  “Please keep your voice down!”

“What do you want, buddy?”  Darius asks, glowering at Fuery and discreetly leveling his gun.  “You got backup waiting outside?”

“I-I-I didn’t know you guys were going to be in here, I-I swear,” Fuery stammers, putting his hands up.  “I’m Kain Fuery, I’m a friend of Ed’s, I’m not here to rat anyone out.  But why are you here, Fullmetal?  South City’s the most dangerous place for you to be in right now!  Everyone’s looking for you!”

“Let’s take this outside,” Ed advises.  “Guns away, people.”

Though they’ve drawn a few concerned looks from some of the other moviegoers, the five of them quietly make their way out of the theater, and Edward gestures them all into a nearby alleyway before checking to make sure the coast is clear.

“So, why’d you follow us here?”  Greed interrogates him.  “You’re really friends with Ed?”

“I didn’t follow you here, it was a coincidence!”  Fuery insists.

“Oh, you just happened to go to this random movie theater to see some random movie, huh?”

“Well, I, uh … I try to see every movie that … comes out,” Fuery explains reluctantly.

“Oh.  Nerd.”

“I mean, we’ve met before,” Fuery continues.  “You’re Ling Yao, right?  Do you remember when we met at Falman’s apartment?  And, uh, you wouldn’t have seen me around, then, but I actually helped out a little with you guys capturing Gluttony--”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Greed interjects.  “I’m not Ling, my name’s Greed.  These guys all work for me.”

“Then-then you’re a homunculus?”  Fuery realizes, stepping back.  “I don’t understand, Fullmetal, why are you working for--?”

“He’s not with the rest of them,” Ed explains.  “You could say he’s on our side, actually.”

“Hey, I’m not on anyone’s side except my own,” Greed corrects him.  “But if you’re worried about Ling, he’s fine.  We sort of share a brain.”

“Uh, okay,” Fuery says numbly, looking past Greed and Ed.  “You’re Mr. Darius and Mr. Heinkel, right?  And you guys are deserters?  Is that true?”

“Yeah,” Darius confirms.  “I think we actually ran into your buddy Falman up north.  Briggs soldier, right?”

“Um, yeah,” Fuery nods.

“But we helped Fullmetal get away from the military, and that put targets on our backs, too,” Heinkel adds.  “Then we teamed up with Greed, and he’s pretty much been dragging us across the south for the past four months.”

“Yeah, back to my earlier question,” Fuery recalls.  “Why South City?  You know there’s soldiers every five feet here, right?”

“Starting to think we should’ve gone back to Dublith,” Ed mutters.

“We just need to catch a train,” Greed shrugs.

Fuery’s eyes widen.  “Oh. Bad idea.  If they haven’t caught you yet, they’ll definitely catch you there.”

“Our disguises are really that bad, huh?”  Darius grumbles.

“I wouldn’t have known it was you guys if not for Fullmetal; I’ve known him for years,” Fuery explains.  “But there’s a ton of security right now at each station on the southern line.  And they require you to take off your gloves for inspection.  Looking for automail or a hand tattoo, most likely.”

“Damn,” Darius curses.  “We could probably find a way to cover up Greed’s tattoo, but it’d be harder to hide the automail.”

“Think we should look into stealing a car again?”  Heinkel suggests.

“Thought we agreed we had bad luck with cars,” Greed points out.

“We never agreed on that,” Ed protests.

“Either way, we need to rethink our plans, now,” Darius says.  “Should we get a hotel or something?”

“Pretty sure the last hotel we stayed in ratted us out to the military,” Heinkel argues.

“To be fair, we weren’t really disguised there.”

“Um.”  Fuery puts a hand to the back of his neck.  “If you guys need a place to stay, you’re welcome in my apartment.”

“You’re not staying in the barracks, anymore?”  Ed says in surprise.  “Did you get promoted to a commissioned officer?”

“Ahaha, no,” Fuery tells him.  “I only had to sleep in the barracks when I was on the, uh, front lines, but since we all got moved to South City, they’ve been more lenient about it because the barracks are getting crowded.  My apartment’s actually on the next block.”

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” Greed decides.  “Let’s go right now.”

“But if you try anything funny, you’re dead,” Heinkel warns.

Fuery gulps.  “Uh, noted.”

Tentatively, he leads the group out of the alleyway and guides them off the main route down to a side street.  They soon find themselves within an apartment complex, and have to climb the stairs for some time before they reach an apartment door that Fuery fusses over with his ring of keys before opening.

“Uh, welcome to Chez Fuery,” he jokes, stepping aside for them to enter.  “Sorry, it’s not much, if you guys would actually prefer a hotel--”

“Nah, this is probably safer for us,” Ed reassures him, stepping inside the dimly-lit main room.  “How many rooms is this place?”

“Living room which the kitchen is part of, and a bathroom and my bedroom,” Fuery recounts.  “Sorry, if you guys need to sleep overnight, I’ve only got one bed, but you can have it, Ed.  There’s also, uh, the couch and the armchair which you guys can have.  I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“Nah, I could take the floor,” Darius offers.  “Don’t put yourself out, bud.  You’re doing a lot for us already.”

“Oh, I should’ve asked this first … are any of you allergic to cats?”

“Oh, definitely not,” Greed snorts.  “If we were, we’d know by now.”

“Well, speak of the devil,” Fuery laughs, bending down to look as a rather scrawny cat with leopard-like spots emerges from one of the other rooms.  “There you are, girl!  Did you take a little nap?”

The cat responds by yawning and stretching before she begins to walk lazily towards the couch, jumping up onto it.

“I didn’t know you had a cat, Fuery,” Ed comments.

“Yeah, she followed me home a couple weeks ago after I fed her,” Fuery informs him.  “Guess that’s one of the nice things about having my own place.  You remember when I found Black Hayate and I had nowhere to keep him?”

“Who names a cat Black Hayate?”  Heinkel asks.

“Black Hayate’s a dog,” Ed explains.  “Lieutenant Hawkeye’s dog.  Whom she named.  I’m sure she’s still grateful to you for picking him up out of the rain, Fuery.”

Greed sits down on the couch next to the cat, wiggling his fingers at her and letting her sniff at him.

“I guess she likes you,” Fuery tells him.

“You kidding?  I think cats are awesome,” Greed responds.  “I’m a natural with ‘em.  That’s why me and Heinkel get along so great.”

“Ahaha,” Heinkel says, deadpan.

“What’d you name her?”

“Oh, she doesn’t have a name yet,” Fuery answers.  “But I’m sure I’ll think of one eventually.  Unless you guys have any suggestions.”

“Oh man, you know who she looks like?”  Greed realizes.  “Ballantine.  You should name her that.”

“Greed, what the hell?”  Darius snaps.

“Am I wrong?”

“It’d be a little confusing for us,” Heinkel argues.

“No, it won’t, we’ll just call her Ballantine the cat or something.”

“What about something like Ballantine Jr.?”

“Baby-tine,” Edward suggests.

“I think it’s funnier if it’s just Ballantine,” Greed insists.  “Fuery, please name your cat Ballantine, it would be so funny.”

“This is some kind of inside joke, right?”  Fuery replies.  “Mind explaining it to me?”

“Hey, jokes aren’t as funny if you explain them--”

“Lady who’s trying to kill us,” Darius grunts.

“Well, if it really means that much to you guys, Ballantine it is,” Fuery sighs.  “Can we call her Balli for short?”

“Yeah, that works,” Greed nods, scratching the cat behind the ears.

“Oh, you play chess?”  Heinkel observes, glancing over a small chessboard set up on the coffee table.

“Um, just a little bit,” Fuery says.  “Colonel Mustang actually had it sent it to me as a gift a little while after I got back from the front lines.  Sort of a reminder of our old unit.”

“Well, that’s nice.  Did you folks used to play against each other?”

“I mean, not that much.  Mustang usually either played Falman or General Grumman.  He let us borrow his set a few times; I used to play against Havoc and Breda.  But Mustang always used to say that we were all like his chess pieces.  Me, Hawkeye, Falman, Breda, and Havoc.”

“Honestly, I’m relieved he never called me a chess piece,” Ed mutters.  “I’d have clocked him.”

“Well, it was all kind of related to how we worked as a team,” Fuery explains, scratching his nose.  “Mustang is the king, the leader; Riza is the queen, Havoc is a knight, Falman is a bishop, Breda is a rook, and I’m, uh, I’m a pawn.”

“He called you a pawn?!”  Ed gripes.  “‘Course he’d say something like that.  Asshole!  Sorry, Fuery.”

“Yeah, this guy sounds like a dick,” Greed agrees.

“Some boss he is,” Heinkel grumbles.  “Seems as though jerks like him are a dime a dozen in the military.  At least you don’t have to kiss up to him anymore.”

“No, no, no, you guys have got it all wrong!”  Fuery protests.  “Mustang, um, he said I was like a pawn because I was the least experienced member of the team, but the pawn has the greatest potential because, with more experience, it can be promoted to any piece.  Even a queen!”

“You can only promote a pawn when you get it to the end of the board,” Edward points out.  “And that doesn't happen all that often.”

“Unless your opponent sucks,” Greed cuts in.

“Thanks a lot,” Fuery sighs.

“No, no, I’m saying you’re not a pawn,” Ed deflects.  “The Colonel’s not giving you enough credit, you know?”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m as competent as everyone else,” Fuery admits.  “They are more experienced and higher-ranking than me.”

“Yeah, but you can…”  Edward thinks for a long time.  “Uh, I’ll think of something.”

“Hey, Ed,” Greed calls out.  “Heads up.  Ling wants to play you at chess.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you played, Ling.”

Ling begins scrabbling at the bald cap and the fake beard to get them off.  “Yep!  Learned it right here in Amestris, actually.  From Warrant Officer Falman!”

“Okay, well, prepare to lose,” Ed says, sitting down over the chessboard and cracking his knuckles.  “I’ve been playing since I was seven.”

“Wait, so now you’re Ling?”  Fuery asks in confusion.

“Yes!  Good to see you again, Sergeant Fuery!”

“Uhh, good to see you too!”

Darius discards his own disguise pieces next to Ling’s and makes his way over to the kitchen cabinet.  “I hate to ask, but do you have any food?  Just preemptively making sure, since Ling tends to eat a lot.”

“Oh, I don’t really keep food at home, sorry,” Fuery tells him.  “But I can bring you guys food back from the mess hall.”

“Not a good idea,” Heinkel advises.  “It might arouse suspicion if you’re suddenly bringing a lot more food than you’d normally eat to your residence.  Better if we just buy food for the apartment from a store.”

“Oh, gosh,” Fuery says, pushing his glasses up his face.  “I don’t know if I have enough to feed four people, and, well, accounting for what you said about Ling, too ... My salary and the money that Breda wires me mostly goes to my rent and feeding, uh, Balli.”

“But you’re just going out to see movies all the time?”  Darius comments.

“Ah -- hey!”  Fuery jumps to defend himself.  “You know the movies across the street aren’t that expensive!  And I’m allowed to have hobbies!”

“Well, it wouldn’t be right for us to expect you to spend money on us, anyways.  We have plenty of money to buy food ourselves.”

“Actually, you can take this,” Ling says, fishing Hennessy’s money clip out of his pocket and tossing it onto the coffee table.  “20,000 cens.  Greed says it’s a gift, and you can use it to buy us food if you feel obligated.  And hey, how did you move your horsey like that, Ed?  The pawn was in front of it!”

“Knights can jump over other pieces, idiot.”

“Ohh!  That gives me an idea…”

“20,000 cens?!”  Fuery says incredulously.  “I don’t know what to say … oh, I would feel bad if I used it to buy anything other than food, but…”

“What is it?  What does your heart desire, Sergeant?”

“Well, I’d have more than enough to get the new handheld radio,” Fuery confesses.  “It’s amazing!  Small enough that you could hold it right in your palms!  And the receiver works hands-free!  Back when I was at Central, we got one for Hawkeye that could connect with the headsets.”

“Greed says go for it!”  Ling tells him cheerfully as he moves to capture Ed’s knight with his own.

“Well, you guys can go out for a shop with me later if you like,” Fuery offers.  “After I get my radio, you can pick out some food you want for the apartment.  I’m not the best cook, unfortunately, so we might be better off with pre-made meals.”

“Mr. Lion can cook,” Ed recalls.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” Heinkel deflects.  “Haven’t done it in years.”

“Yeah, well, I want to try your cooking, alright?”  Ed replies, moving his bishop to take Ling’s pawn.  “Make us a quiche or something.  You’re in check, by the way, Ling.”

“I’ll do my best, kid,” Heinkel sighs.

The conversation drops off a bit as everyone settles around to watch Ed and Ling’s game, which goes on for much longer than Ed had anticipated, until finally—

“It’s a stalemate,” Edward announces.

“Don’t you mean a checkmate?”  Ling asks.

“No, you’re not in checkmate,” Ed corrects him.  “Stalemate because it’s your move, but you can’t move anywhere that won’t put you in check, and you’re not in check right now.  You can’t move and I can’t move.  In other words, it’s a draw.”

“But you basically won,” Ling argues.  “You more or less took all of my pieces, right?”

“Yeah, I guess I basically did win,” Ed smirks.  “Still, that was a very close game, Ling.  Especially considering you had no idea what you were doing.  If you were a little more experienced you probably could have beaten me easy.  How many games have you played before this?”

“Two rounds against Barry the Chopper.”

“The serial killer?”  Heinkel asks.

“Yeah.”

“But yeah, good game,” Edward concludes.

“Well, you may have stalemated the brat, but you’ll have to deal with me next,” Greed cuts in, suddenly taking control.  “I’m here to avenge him.  But I should warn you, Elric, Ling might have diddly-squat in terms of chess experience, but I’ve been playing for a little over seventy years.”

“That should make it all the more satisfying when I beat you,” Ed grins.

“So he’s … Greed now?”  Fuery asks as Ed and Greed start resetting the pieces.

“You get used to it,” Darius shrugs.  “They have different speech patterns, dispositions.  I should probably mention, it’s pretty rare for them to switch around like this, anyways.  Like once in a blue moon.  Most of the time it’s just Greed.”

“Well, is Ling okay with that?”  Fuery inquires.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Greed reassures him.  “The prince gave me his body of his own free will, so I can do whatever I want with it, really.”

“Wait, did you say he was a prince?  ...Did I know that?”

“Yeah, he’s not very princely,” Ed sighs.

“Woah.  Not every day you meet a prince!”

“I’m kind of a prince, too, if you think about it,” Greed mentions, moving his first pawn out against Ed.  “Since my brother and my pops rule this country, just like how Ling’s old man rules Xing.”

“Are-are you saying you’re Bradley’s son?”

“No, he’s my brother!  We homunculi all have the same Father.  Wait, sorry, did you know the Führer was a homunculus?”

“Yeah, I do.  But I don’t know if that really makes you a prince yourself, though,” Fuery points out.  “We don’t live in a monarchy, we live in a military republic--”

“Shut up, it totally counts.”

“Well, I guess Ling must be part of his country’s rulership too, right?”

“Nope,” Greed snorts.  “He gets to participate in the court, sure, and he wields power in his clan, but the Emperor’s the one who holds power over the country proper.  He’s got too many other kids to make an exception for Ling.  Princes ain’t exactly kings, you know.”

“Guess being at war with Aerugo for so long has messed with me,” Fuery shrugs.  “Since their country’s ruler is a prince.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

“Prince Claudio, right?”  Edward adds, moving his queen out to threaten Greed’s knight.  “He’s here negotiating with Southern Command?”

“No, actually,” Fuery tells him.  “The reason we’ve been in parley for this long is because the diplomats refused to negotiate until his Excellency, the Führer, showed up himself, and the Führer is refusing to show up until Prince Claudio shows his face in South City.  But they’re saying he’ll be here within the week, so I guess we’ll see how that goes.  Things have been tense with the Aerugonian forces here, though.”

“Does Aerugo have a princess?”  Darius blurts out.

“Gorius, you trying to score with Prince Claudio?”  Greed jokes.

“What?  No--!”

“I mean, if you’re asking if the Prince is married, he’s a bachelor, as far as I know,” Fuery explains.

“But doesn’t he have a sister?”  Greed asks.  “Yeah, I think he has like a little sister.”

“I didn’t know that,” Heinkel muses.  “What’s her name?”

“Elena.”

Heinkel whacks Greed over the top of his head.

“I’m telling the truth, that’s her name!”  Greed protests.  “Elena Fiori Aerugo!”

"Surprised you know that," Ed comments.

"I keep up with the news.  Sometimes."

“That sounds made up,” Darius argues.  “Why is her last name her country?  That’s like if Ling’s name was Ling Yao Xing … although, that has a ring to it…”

“To be fair, the name Elena made me jump, too,” Fuery tells Heinkel.  “Made me think of that lady who’s on death row in Central right now for killing people and feeding them to her husband.”

With a groan, Heinkel buries his face in his hands.

“Aw, don’t be sad, Heinkel,” Greed says, capturing one of Ed’s pawns with his own.  “If it makes you feel any better, my awful sister got burned to death.  By Roy Mustang, apparently.  She was just as messed up as your sister, you have no idea.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea, considering I’ve met Lust several times,” Heinkel retorts.

“Wait, what?  Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?  Check, by the way.”

“She and Envy were like peas in a pod.  They treated us like we were their pets or something.”

“Wait, are you saying you worked under Lust?”  Fuery says in astonishment.  “Like Barry the Chopper did?  What was she like?”

“Hey, I would know better than him!”  Greed interrupts.  “We go back a few centuries.  Wait, Gorius, does that mean you know Lust too?”

“Check,” Ed interjects.

“Never had the honor,” Darius admits.  “Besides you, the only homunculi I’ve met, to my knowledge, are Envy and Wrath.”

“To answer your question, Sergeant, she was a condescending jerk,” Heinkel informs him.

“So you guys kind of worked in the underbelly of the military, then?”  Fuery queries.

“Yeah, we sort of exist off the books -- at least, we did before we deserted.  Darius and I are chimeras.”

“Chimeras?!  You’re part animal?”

“Yeah, Mr. Lion and Mr. Gorilla,” Edward nods.  “Checkmate.”

“What?!”  Greed squints down at the board.  “How is it checkmate?”

“My queen can get you here and my bishop can get you here.  You have nowhere else to move.”

“Guess I should’ve seen this coming,” he groans, slouching in his seat.  “I forgot for a minute that you were a super genius.”

“Yeah, serves you right.  Hell, I think Ling’s a better player than you are.”

“Geez, I can’t go down like this,” Greed mutters, rubbing his neck.  “Hey, Gorius, I want a game against you.  Let’s get a ranking going.”

“I’ve never played chess.”

“Yeesh.  Sarge?”

“Oh … I don’t see why not,” Fuery agrees.

“Ed, get up,” Greed commands.  “I wanna be black this time.”

Ed shuffles over as Greed takes his place, and he and Fuery begin to set up the board again.

“I’m really not the best, so you’ve got this in the bag,” Fuery tells him sheepishly.

“I can live with that,” Greed replies.  “You know, at the risk of sounding like Mustang, I bet I could chalk my subordinates up as chess pieces.”

“Oh, joy,” Ed groans.

“Me and Ling are the king,” he begins.  “Ed’s my knight, Heinkel’s my bishop, and Darius is my rook.”

“I don’t know chess jargon, so I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not,” Darius comments.

“The rook fits you pretty well, Gorius,” Greed insists.  “It moves all the way vertical and horizontal, so it’s kind of like the more stable, protecting piece.  Doesn’t seem as useful at the beginning of the game, since it’s pretty blocked up by the other pieces, but it’s a really tough contender later on in the game.  Although kind of early in the game you can do this thing, castling, where you have it switch to protect the king.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Heinkel’s my bishop because he’s more lateral-minded,” Greed explains.  “He thinks outside the box and shit.  Non-standard.  Like how the bishop goes diagonally.”

“Uh, thanks, Greed,” Heinkel responds, seeming flattered.

“Yeah!  And Ed’s my knight, he’s kind of my wild card.  Tough to maneuver around.  You don’t know how dangerous a knight is until they have you gridlocked.”

“Guess that does fit me pretty well,” Ed decides.  “Why is Ling also the king, though?  There’s two other pieces you could assign him.”

“Hey, me and Ling are a package deal!”  Greed protests.  “We’re the strategists, and even though I’m the leader, Ling’s pretty important too.  Can’t play the game without him.  Also, he can’t be the queen because that would have weird implications and I’d never call him a pawn.”

“You’re being weirdly nice today,” Darius observes.

“I’m always nice.”

“It’s kind of funny because the king is pretty damn useless,” Ed points out.  “Worse than a pawn, if you think about it.  Can only move one space in any direction, you lose it and the game is over.”

“Check,” Fuery says.

“Greed is pretty useless,” Darius agrees.  “I feel like he’s gotten tossed around by every person we’ve had to fight on this whole trip.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault they were all women!”  Greed responds.  “You know I don’t hit girls!”

“Okay, Greed, I think you are … debilitatingly sexist.”

“No, I have a debilitating respect for women.”

Darius gets up and walks over to the other room.

“Um, speaking of the trip, that reminds me,” Ed starts, “I guess taking a train might be out of the question for the time being, so we should look into getting another car.  Only problem is, this is a huge, crowded city, so it’d be a lot harder to steal a car in broad daylight than it would be in, say, Dublith.”

“Steal a car in the dead of night?”  Greed suggests.

“This place is crawling with military, remember?”

“You know, Fullmetal, I could probably just get a military car for you guys to use,” Fuery offers.  “Discreetly, of course.  I’d just need to ask permission from my superior.  Lieutenant General Mauser’s given me a little bit of, ah, special treatment since I got transferred specially by the Führer’s orders.”

“Should we be worried about that?  Crap, they might be monitoring you … this might’ve been a mistake…”

“They’re definitely not,” Fuery states.  “I would’ve known by now.  We’re not glorified hostages like Lieutenant Hawkeye, the rest of us from the unit.  They sent us around the country to keep us away from Mustang, and maybe even die.  They wouldn’t have sent me to the front lines otherwise.  I’ve nearly gotten killed.”

“If you say so,” Ed nods.  “I trust you, Fuery.  Thanks.”

Greed pushes his pawn to the end of the board.  “Queen me.”

“Sorry, I don’t have any extra pieces,” Fuery admits.  “You can, uh, use my queen, since it’s off the board.”

“Oh, wow, you’re in the home stretch, Greed,” Ed comments. “Why don’t you move your rook and put him in checkmate?”

“I want to promote the rest of my pawns to queens.”

“Well, you’ll have to keep track of which ones are queens by yourself,” Fuery says.

“But you can win the game right now,” Ed says with a hint of annoyance.

“Not my style,” Greed laughs.  “I want more powerful pieces!”