Archive of Our Own

Roy Mustang had no weaknesses. Of course, that wasn’t strictly true. Everyone had weaknesses. But, when it came to trying to crack his façade, stall his career, or trip him up just enough to get ahead, no one had been successful. People had tried insulting his family. He laughed with them and even came up with a few harsh jokes of his own. The private who had tried that technique so many years ago ended up in tears and dropped out of the military not long after.

People had tried to recruit each of his team members. Surprisingly, even though it was clear the man was using them as little more than pawns in his rise to the top, they all remained fairly loyal to the man.

One particularly desperate major had tried to cozy up to Maes Hughes in an attempt to weasel out some sort of information worthy of blackmail. Instead, they ended up transferring over to Hughes’ unit and any thoughts about bringing the Flame Alchemist down, of stepping on his back to get to the top, went thoroughly out the window.

Roy Mustang was a force to be reckoned with. He had quickly risen through the ranks. He managed to recruit a prodigy. He was cold, calculating, manipulative. He didn’t care who he had to step on to get to the top. People had been trying to get rid of him since he first showed up; to get rid of that arrogant bastard and use his own downfall to propel their careers forward. None had been successful.

Colonel Morris would be that exception. He had painted a target on Mustang’s back as soon as the bastard transferred over to Eastern Command after the war. He didn’t like that this cocky man, barely older than a child at the time, had garnered such fear and respect. He didn’t like that within a few short years, he managed to claw his way up to Morris’ level. He didn’t like that it seemed Mustang would surpass him soon enough. Morris had been in the military for longer. He had done more. He should have been the one up for promotion. And yet… That fucking bastard needed to go and he needed to go now.

Morris was smart, though. Smarter than any of his colleagues who created plans that often blew up in their face. He was careful to take notes about what did and didn’t work. He studied Mustang, his movements, his team, his work schedule, his interactions with senior staff, his interactions with the public, his reports, his everything. This was war, and you couldn’t rush into war without in-depth knowledge of the enemy. It was at this time that he came to three conclusions.

1. Roy Mustang would do whatever it took to get to the top.
2. Roy Mustang didn’t care about his subordinates. They were simply pawns to be sacrificed and abandoned as soon as they no longer served their purpose.
3. Roy Mustang’s men on the other hand did not share in their commander’s cold and calculating nature.

He could use this. Mustang may not bat an eye when his team was in danger, but his team surely would. And once he shook the team’s faith in their commander, they would abandon him. Once they abandoned him, Mustang could no longer prop himself up off the backs of others, he’d quickly fall out of favor with the higher-ups. It was the perfect plan. It took into account everything Morris knew about Mustang and his personality. Within a few days, Mustang’s world would come crumbling down.

*****

The argument was explosive. Truth be told, Mustang couldn’t remember exactly what had started it or how it got to this level, but he and Fullmetal had been trading blows for the better part of an hour and neither seemed to be running out of steam.

The rest of his team tuned out the noise and continued to work; occasionally small talk amongst themselves while the two of them traded barbed insults. Jab for jab. Hit for hit. Mustang was almost impressed. Very, very, few people could get under his skin the way Edward Elric could. Come to think of it, only Hughes could rattle him this much. But they had known each other for years. Fullmetal was some half-sized teen punk from a backwater town so small they didn’t even have paved roads.

“I don’t know what the big deal is, you fucking bastard,” Fullmetal shouted.

He didn’t know what the big deal was either. Again, it had been an hour. Mustang was tired. His stoic façade had been shattered after about thirty minutes and he was approximately two seconds away from strangling the kid.

“Get some new insults, Fullmetal. You’re getting stale.” His eye was twitching. Oh, joy. He wished Al was here to try and calm the situation down. Riza tried in the beginning, but lacking the second voice of reason, she didn’t get very far and quickly decided to focus on her work instead.

“You know what, I don’t have to take this.”

“Technically, you do. I’m your commanding officer. You signed a contract that said you would follow your commanding officer’s orders.”

“Pulling rank? Really?”

The eye twitching had gotten worse. “Of course I’m going to pull rank!” he shouted. “That’s the whole point of having rank!”

Ed spun on his heels and stomped to the door. “Whatever. I’m going to the library and you can’t stop me.”

Technically, he could. He could order Havoc or Breda or someone to stop Ed. Then he could court-martial him. He just wasn’t going to.

The door slammed shut, shaking the walls so hard, Mustang briefly worried the windows would shatter. They didn’t. Small miracles.

“I’m going to kill him,” he growled. “Havoc!”

“Yes sir?”

“Figure out a place where I can dump a body. Breda, Falman, get me a weapon that can’t be traced back to me.”

Hawkeye dropped a stack of papers on his desk. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not going to kill him.”

She was right. He cared about the kid too much.

“His disappearance would mean more paperwork for you. I can’t see you willingly giving yourself more work.” Her words stabbed into, knocking him from his chair.

He buried his face in his hands and let out a muffled scream.

Another stack of papers dropped onto his desk. “Quit being dramatic and start doing your work. He wouldn’t be so combative if you didn’t respond so easily.” She stated this matter of factly.

Responded so easily? Responded so easily! Did she know who she was talking to? Back in his days at the academy a private specializing in interrogation tried to rile him, jealous of his good marks and easy time passing exams. Mustang sunk his claws into him so easily the man ended up quitting the academy and moving back home where he remains to this day. Drachma spies couldn’t rile him up. Peers looking to stop his career growth couldn’t rile him up. Hell, even the feared Major General Armstrong couldn’t rile him up. If none of these people could rile him up, then Edward Elric of all people would not and could not rile him up.

“Paperwork, Colonel,” Hawkeye said, her tone just threatening enough for him to know that she was two seconds away from putting a gun to the back of his head if he didn’t start. He scowled at her and pulled off the top report. Since when did his team have this much control over him?

*****

The stack of books was almost taller than he was. Normally, the library had a limit to the number of books you could take. Somehow Al had managed to convince the staff to let them take as many as they wanted. Which is how Ed found himself with as many books as he could carry. Lucky, the automail arm made it a bit easier, taking most of the weight. However, this also meant that the stack was unbalanced. He was walking slowly so as not to tip them all over into the dirt.

“Need some help with that?” Someone grabbed the top few books, lightening the load considerably.

“Colonel Morris?” he asked, peaking around the rest of the stack to see the man standing in front of him.

“Oh, Ed, I thought it was you.”

“What gave it away?”

“The stack of books and the red coat.” Morris laughed. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Question?”

“Need some help with that?” Morris was smiling and seemed like his normal friendly self, but something was off. There was a tightness in his eyes and mouth that made him seem… almost worried.

“Um…” The books were heavy, and at this rate, it would take him an hour to get back to the dorms. If he said no, Morris would put the books back on the stack and his arms, which had already started to ache, would ache even more. He wanted to say no, but there was no reason to. This was Colonel Morris. The man didn’t get along with Mustang, true. Then again, very few people did.

You know what? Screw it! The faster he could get to the dorms, the faster he could start reading and stop thinking about the bastard colonel sitting up in his office all smug and egotistical.

“Yeah. I could use some help if you’re not in a hurry.”

“No, I’m not in a hurry. Technically, I’m supposed to be in my office doing work, but it’s such a nice day out, I thought it’d be nice to play some hooky and enjoy it before it starts raining again.”

They started trekking through the parade grounds. Normally, Ed would take a shortcut that involved some not-so-legal uses of alchemy to open up fences. He didn’t want Morris to know about that, however, and report it back to Mustang. The man was already pissed at him for some reason. No need to add fuel to the fire now.

“You’re not going to take a shortcut?”

Ed froze. “How did you—”

“Relax, kid. I told my lieutenant I was going to quit smoking. Gave that up after about a week, but now I have to sneak some smoke breaks in. I’ve seen you and your brother hopping fences before.

“And you haven’t told anyone?” There was something very weird about this whole thing.

Morris shrugged. “Not particularly. I looked into it when I first saw you since those could be potential blind spots. But there is no way to get to those parts of the center without being seen by someone so I figured it was no big deal. It’s good to let kids get up to a little bit of mischief.”

He scowled at the word mischief. It sounded so childish.

Morris turned off the path and down the side alley that was indeed his shortcut. Just how much did this guy know. And how was it that Ed had never seen him before?

“Tell me something.”

“Okay?” He furrowed his brow, studying Morris’s body language. Something was off about this. He couldn’t place what.

“Do you like working for Colonel Mustang?”

Everything snapped into place. Ed resisted the urge to stick his foot through Morris’ skull. “Ugh, not you too.”

Morris stopped and turned to face him. “Me too?”

“Let me guess. You’re going to offer me a position with your team because ‘Colonel Mustang just doesn’t care about my wellbeing’ and ‘you should be with someone who respects you and a bunch of other bullshit that practically every other officer has told to me at some point.”

Morris stared at him for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. It threw him off-balance. This was… not how this conversation normally went.

“Oh, no, you’ve got it wrong,” Morris said, his laughter subsiding. “I’m not going to offer you a place on my team.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. I think you should probably be under the watchful eye of another alchemist. Truth be told, if you were on my team for whatever reason, I don’t think I’d know what to do with you.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. At least he didn’t have to have another awkward conversation about military politics. Man, couldn’t these guys focus on something other than trying to stab each other in the back? Weren’t they all supposed to be on the same team, working for the same goal?

“Then why are you asking about it?” Ed shifted the books in his arms and continued walking.

“I heard the argument today.”

“You did? I thought those walls were supposed to be soundproof.”

“Eh, sound resistant. If you’re loud enough, noise can get through.”

He knew they had gotten loud. He didn’t know they had gotten that loud. Suddenly, he was a lot more in awe of the team’s ability to continue working while he and Mustang were trying to figure out how to kill each other.

“I wanted to make sure you’re doing alright with Mustang. You’ve only been in the military for what, a year now?”

“Year and a half,” he muttered.

Morris nodded. “Mustang’s a pretty ruthless man. He’s been known to burn out some of his subordinates. He’s ambitious, but sometimes I fear that ambition comes at a price.”

Ed bit his lip and did his best not to look at Morris. Something about this situation still seemed off. Really off. He was half tempted to chuck the books at Morris and make a break for the dorms. Several other officers had tried to cozy up to him since he showed up at Eastern Command. A few visiting from other regions also tried their hand. None had been successful, but none had had this air of… of malice pouring out of them. Because that’s what he felt from Morris. Malice. Maybe he was trying to go a different route. Maybe he was trying to sow some seeds of discord between Ed and Mustang so that he would be more willing to go with another officer.

Morris stopped, his eyes focused as he looked around.

“What’s wrong?”

“Quiet,” he hissed, gently setting the books on the ground.

Ed did the same, trying to hear what Morris heard.

He went to clap his hands together and transmute his automail, but Morris’ hands stopped him. “I don’t think they know we’re down here.”

He wanted to ask who ‘they’ were. He didn’t get the chance as a man leaped down from the building and whacked Morris hard enough to send him flying.

Ed went to clap his hands together again but again was stopped. This time, but a man who was so big, he could put Major Armstrong to shame. And hairy enough to put a bear to shame. The man’s hands wrapped around his wrists and no matter how hard Ed struggled, he couldn’t get his hand close enough to complete the circle.

They were shouting something at one another in another language. Maybe Drachma? He didn’t care. Instead, he kept flailing, hoping something would connect and get the man to drop him.

The other man who had knocked Colonel Morris to the ground was satisfied with the man’s state of unconsciousness and turned towards Ed.

He only managed to look shocked for a brief second before the man’s massive fist connected with the side of his head. Everything went black.

*****

Mustang had a bad feeling. He didn’t get as far as he had with as few scars as he did without listening to his bad feelings. Something was off today. Something was wrong. When Ed bashed his way out the door, and after Mustang briefly plotted homicide, he almost asked one of his subordinates to go after him, tail him, and make sure everything was alright.

He stopped himself, though, knowing that Ed would react badly to one of them following him around. So, instead, he watched out the window. He watched as the kid stomped across the perfectly manicured lawn with enough force to muck it up. Add that to the list of things Mustang needed to scold him for.

He entered the library like he said he was going to. Mustang frowned and looked around the lawn. Something was off. Something was not right. Soldiers were milling about, some walking around in pairs talking and laughing, others on their own enjoying the nice day.

What was wrong? Why did something feel so off?

About twenty minutes later, Ed came out of the library with a stack of books that were probably taller than he was, not like it was hard.

He narrowed his eyes and watched the kid shuffle his way down the stairs, probably in an attempt to keep the books balanced. He barely got five feet from the bottom of the steps when another soldier came up to him and took about half the stack from him.

“Morris?” Mustang muttered, watching their interaction. What did Morris want with Ed? He knew the man well enough to know he probably wasn’t offering to carry the books out of the goodness of his heart.

He watched as Ed kept to the paths this time, probably in an attempt not to get scolded by the other colonel. Seriously, why did he respect some random more than he respected his CO? Yet another thing to add to the scolding list (he knew Hawkeye kept one as well. What he didn’t know was if her list was purely for Ed, or if she had a list for Mustang as well).

Morris pivoted and stepped onto the grass, leading Ed down his usual side alley. So, he had convinced to kid to take his usual shortcut. Mustang knew about it. He had Havoc look into how much of a danger it was to have such obvious blind spots. Havoc assured him that it was impossible to get to those spots without being seen or triggering an alarm at another point, so it wasn’t something they needed to worry about. Mustang had never scolded the kids for taking the shortcuts. They always put the fences and walls back into place and so far, no one else had complained. Maybe he should add that to the list, just to piss off the kid even more.

Hang on.

Morris was the one who pivoted to the shortcut, not Ed. Morris was the one leading Ed. How did he know about the shortcuts? His heart dropped.

“Shit.” He stood up and walked quickly to the door.

“Colonel?” Falman asked, looking up from his paperwork.

“I’ll be right back. I have to check something,” he said, making sure to relax his shoulders and keep his face a stony mask. No need for anyone else at Eastern Command to know he was worried. No need for the target on his back to grow.

He walked quickly to the usual shortcut Ed usually took, his pace picking up significantly once he was out of sight. He pulled on his gloves, ready for a fight. It would be tricky in a space this tight, but he could manage. His ears strained for any sounds of battle. That tell-tale clap and the following crackle of electricity filled the air. His eyes strained for any flashes of light, for red cloth, for blond hair, for blood, for anything.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Maybe he had overreacted.

Morris was a fellow soldier.

Ed was probably already at the dorms with a nose buried in a book and a pile of chicken-scratch notes already at his side.

His instincts were wrong.

Nothing was wrong.

He froze. His heart may have stopped beating. His breathing certainly did.

On the ground in front of him were two piles of neatly stacked library books.

“Shit. Fullmetal!” He called out, looking around for any signs of alchemy or even a struggle. How could Ed of all people get into a fight and not leave any property damage? That kid destroyed buildings grabbing coffee at the local café!

He broke into a sprint, following the twists and turns of the shortcut, hoping once again that he was wrong. He should have sent Havoc to watch over the kid. He should have gone down there the moment he realized Morris was taking him down that alley. He should have listened to his gut instinct and done something.

He burst out the other side, the dorms looming just twenty feet away. There was no sign of Ed or Morris.

He took the stairs as quickly as he could, other soldiers leaping out of his way as he navigated the familiar path to the kid’s room.

He pounded on the door. “Fullmetal, open up.” Half of him was screaming that he was wasting time. He needed to figure out where Morris had taken him (if Morris was the one behind this at all). The other, less hysterical half, was reminding him that he needed to make sure Ed was missing before accusing a senior ranking member of the military of kidnapping a state alchemist.

The door opened. Ed wasn’t standing in front of him. Al was. “Colonel! What did brother do this time?” He sounded almost exasperated.

“Is he in there?” They were wasting time.

Al shook his head. “No. He said he was going to talk with you and then go to the library. He hasn’t gotten back yet.”

“Shit.” Fan-fucking-tastic. Edward Elric was the only person in existence who could get himself into trouble surrounded by allies walking home from the library. How could someone be this unlucky?

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Al’s voice was shaking. Right, Mustang needed to deal with the other suicidally unlucky brother first.

“I’m not sure. Stay here until I have more information.” While Al was usually helpful on cases, he didn’t know if Morris was just targeting Ed or both of the brothers. He would have a hard enough time getting one half-pint punk back. He didn’t need to add in trying to rescue a seven-foot-tall suit of armor.

“But—”

“That’s an order, Alphonse. Do not leave these dorms until I know what’s going on.” Technically, Al wasn’t part of the military. Mustang had no authority over him. However, if he spoke clearly and commandingly enough, maybe, just this once, he could convince at least one of these stubborn idiots to stay out of a fight that might end with one or both of them permanently dead.

“But brother—”

“I will get him back,” he said as authoritatively as he could. Then, for added measures, he added, “Or do you not trust me?”

Al’s armor hunched in on itself. That was a bit of a low blow. Those boys didn’t have a lot of adults they could trust. Hell, they didn’t even have a lot of people they could trust. Mustang liked to think he was one of the few who they knew they could count on.

“Okay.” He looked up, his eyes burning. It never ceased to amaze Mustang just how expressive a suit of armor could be. It was all in the eyes, he supposed. “But if you need help, promise you’ll come to get me.”

That was a fair ask. Mustang nodded. “Of course. Now stay here until I have more information. I’ll get him back in one piece. I promise.”

Al sighed. “He doesn’t have enough pieces to lose.”

True. Mustang patted his armored shoulder, spun on his heels, and marched back to his office, passing by the stack of library books on the way. He’d send someone to pick them up later. Right now, he had to find his major.

“What’s wrong?” Hawkeye asked, her voice hard. The twitch in her fingers told him that she was ready to shoot someone.

“Get me Colonel Morris’ lieutenant. He and Fullmetal have disappeared, and I want to know why.”

Havoc rushed from the room to complete the task.

Mustang sat down in his chair and folded his hands in front of his face. He was still wearing his spark gloves. He should probably take them off. The urge to burn someone was tearing through his self-control.

He narrowed his eyes, staring at the door with an intensity that scared even himself. No, the gloves stayed on. A lot of people were afraid of being burned to death. It was a decent fear to have. Burning to death was painful. Your skin peels away from the body, and the cold air rushes to soothe it, only causing more agony. As your fat melts, it causes even more heat to be trapped, searing the internal organs, causing them to collapse in on themselves, suffocating you. Depending on how you burned, you might be killed in several ways. The pain and stress of the experience could cause you to have a heart attack, or go into shock and die. The skin, the first piece of the immune system, could melt away leaving your body vulnerable to disease and infection. Or your organs could shut down, burning horrifically as the rest of your body peeled away to ash. That was the most painful one.

After what he had done in Ishval, no one seemed to doubt he would do it. Maybe a little intimidation was what Morris needed.

*****

The first thing Ed noticed when he woke up, was that his face fucking hurt. It felt like he had been smashed in the head repeatedly with a sledgehammer.

The second thing he noticed was the pounding headache. Probably a result of the aforementioned sledgehammer smashing.

The third thing he noticed was that he was missing his arm.

This got him awake as he jerked up, nearly falling over because of how off-balance he felt. The room spun and for a brief moment, he felt like he might vomit.

He squeezed his eyes shut and worked on breathing through the pain. A few seconds or minutes or hours passed. He wasn’t sure. Eventually, the spinning subsided and the pain eased slightly.

He hazarded opening his eyes again. He was in a room, metal by the looks of it. Some sort of warehouse? The side of his face hurt and his head was pounding. He could feel crusty dried blood on the side of it. He had been knocked unconscious. Shit. That probably meant a concussion. It would explain the constant need to throw up and the ringing in his ears.

He took another deep breath and looked down at his body. As he figured, his right arm was gone. Luckily, it had been removed properly, with no tearing or smashing. Small miracles, but at least the port wasn’t damaged. His left hand was in a shackle that attached to the floor. He tugged at it. It gave him a pretty big range of motion.

He looked down at his feet. Both of them were also shackled, but at least there were two of them.

He looked around the room. Morris wasn’t in here.

“Don’t want them to know we’re down here my ass,” he grumbled. How had two Drachma spies managed to get into Eastern Command and jump them both?

He took a deep breath. They were probably after Morris. He needed to find the man and help him escape. He wasn’t going to leave him behind, even if he was a bit weird and creepy.

The metal door screeched open, causing the headache to spike and a wave of nausea to wash over him once more.

“Look at who is finally awake,” a thick, Drachma accent filled the room.

Ed squinted and looked up at the man. He was having trouble concentrating. Each thought seemed to be slipping away from him before he could comprehend his own mind. Not good.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to crumple in on himself just a bit, not expecting a hand to weigh that much.

“You know much about military plans?” the man asked.

Ed shook his head. Another bad idea. He was going to vomit all over this man.

Wait. Why was that a bad thing?

He saw the gleam of a gun suck in the man’s waistband. Right. He was a prisoner.

“No,” he said. “I don’t know a lot about the military plans.”

The man let out a laugh, booming and filling the room. He held up Ed’s silver pocket watch. “But you are state alchemist. State alchemists are well respected in the military.”

“Where’s Colonel Morris?” Ed asked. It worried him that they weren’t being kept in the same room. What if they were torturing the man now? What if it was already too late?

No, he couldn’t think like that. Colonel Morris was alive. Ed could bust them both out of here. From what he saw in the alley, there were only people who jumped them. He could handle that, easily.

The man laughed again. It sounded very friendly, you know, considering he had knocked Ed unconscious, kidnapped him, and chained him to a wall after removing his arm. At least they kept the leg.

“Do not worry about him now, boy. You are in our custody.”

“No, tell me what you did with him. Is he alive?”

“Of course.” The man smiled at him. “Now, no more questions. I am here to make sure you are alive. We leave in a few hours.”

“Leave?” He blanched. “Leave to where?” He had a good idea where they were going.

“You will give us information. In return, we don’t kill you. We only break a few of your fingers.”

“I only have five fingers to break.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Why would he point that out to this man?

“So you do. We figure out other way to get information then. Tell us what we want, and we don’t break anything.”

“Like hell, I’m telling you anything!” he growled. If he wasn’t currently chained on the floor, he’d headbutt the man. As of right now, he had a feeling that would go over very, very badly. (See, Mustang? He was capable of using his head and not escalating a situation further!)

“Where’s Colonel Morris? What did you do to him? Why isn’t he here?”

For a brief moment, the man looked like he pitied him. Ed hated it when people pitied him. Maybe he’d slam his face into the dickbag after all.

“You poor boy.” He shook his head and turned to the door.

“What does that mean? What aren’t you telling me?” He shouted. It was no use. The door screeched shut and he was left alone once again.

He took a few minutes to steady his breathing. He didn’t have his other arm. He didn’t know where he was or where they were keeping Colonel Morris. However, when the door was opened, he saw that they were surrounded by other containers. So, he was likely at a port or something. It’d be easier to transport him to an ally of Armestris before smuggling him over the border into Drachma. Colonel Morris was likely in one of the other containers. Containers going to the same destination were usually grouped together and the men likely had them both on the ground to make it easier to get to them. Alright. That narrowed it down. That made it easier for him to figure out where to look.

He didn’t have his arm, but that didn’t mean he still couldn’t use alchemy. He managed to bring his thumb to his mouth and bit down on it. It hurt and was harder than he thought it was going to be (apparently the brain didn’t like it when you started trying to eat yourself) but eventually, there was enough of a bloodstream for what he needed. He drew a transmutation circle on the ground, wrestled himself into position, concentrated on the chain, and let the alchemy take care of the rest.

*****

Lieutenant Driver stood in front of him, shaking, fear evident in his eyes. Pathetic. The least Morris could do was train his subordinates not to show such blatant fear.

Then again, it must be terrifying to stare down the Flame Alchemist with his gloves still on his hands and an expression so terrifying, even his subordinates seemed to do their best to avoid his gaze.

He took a moment to steady himself, to get to a headspace where he wouldn’t immediately lash out and burn the man in front of him alive. When he felt ready, he spoke.

“Where is my major, Lieutenant Driver?” It was as if all the noise had been sucked out of the room; out of the world. Nothing could be heard except for Mustang’s voice, low and dangerous.

Driver flinched. “I-I don’t know, sir. Why do you think—”

“Because the last person he was seen with was Colonel Morris. You work for him, correct?” Surprisingly, he felt very calm. Almost a little too calm. He didn’t have to shove his emotions down or force himself to not snap his fingers. Perhaps it was Driver’s quivering but Mustang knew he was in full control of the situation.

“Y-yes, sir. But I don’t know where he’s at. I swear!”

He was telling the truth. It figures that if Morris was planning something, he’d want his team in the dark as much as possible. The fewer people who knew about his plan, the less chance there was that something accidentally slipped. It did worry him that not even the lieutenant knew.

“Then where is Colonel Morris at? You have some idea, don’t you?” The urge to shout, to scream, and demand answers started to bubble to the surface. They were wasting time. He wanted to move now, wanted to figure out where Morris had taken Ed and then light his ass on fire for trying to mess with his subordinates.

He couldn’t get moving. Not yet. The city was large and there were several places he could have taken Ed. That is if he’s still alive. A crack in his façade, a twitch of his fingers, the thought rattled him. No. Morris was a coward and an idiot, but he wasn’t going to kill a child. Right?

“I-I don’t know, sir. He left about an hour ago, said he was going for a walk. I don’t know where he’s at.”

Mustang leaned back, studying the man in front of him. Morris must have been smarter than he thought if he covered his tracks this well. He drummed his fingers on the desk, the dull sounds reverberating throughout the room. Somehow, it was louder than any sound Ed could make, which was saying something since that kid could shout. His mind worked on the problem, picking at the knot, trying to find some solution. This was too planned, too perfect not to be a spur-of-the-moment decision. Planning like that takes time and energy. He had to have told someone something, even if it seemed innocent.

“What has Colonel Morris been doing these past few weeks?”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to—”

“Lieutenant, you understand what is happening right now. Two soldiers are missing. No one has seen or heard from them for over an hour. Tell me what I want to know and maybe I won’t court-martial you when this is all over.” His voice rose steadily, still not enough to be shouting, but enough to make Driver hunch in on himself even more.

“Um…” Driver stuttered.

“Now, Lieutenant!” He barked.

“Right… um… Colonel Morris has been doing some inspections at the shipyard recently. The past few weeks.”

“More than normal?”

Driver nodded. “He usually hates doing shipyard inspections. I don’t know why he’s so interested all of a sudden.”

Shipyard, huh? They were pretty secluded places, away from the public with only a few workers scattered around the huge area. It’d be relatively easy to stash a prisoner there and have no one be the wiser. It’d also be easier to move a prisoner out of the city.

Mustang stood, the chair scraping against the floor causing Driver to flinch once more.

“Let’s go.” He commanded. The rest of his subordinates snapped to attention, gathering up their things before following him out.

“Do you think they’re at the shipyard?” Hawkeye asked. "It seems too simple and sloppy."

“Morris is smart, but he’s not that smart,” he said. The shipyard was the best lead they had. Given Driver’s absolute terror, he knew something was up with this whole thing. He knew something was wrong. They didn’t have anything else to go on.

“Breda, Fallman.”

“Yes sir?”

“Tail Driver. Make sure he doesn’t head somewhere else. If he does, let us know immediately. Also, contact Hughes and let him know we might need to open an investigation on Morris. The rest of you are with me. Havoc, Fuery, you take the north end, Hawkeye and I will take the south end. Let’s move.”

“Yes sir!”

He felt a bit better now, a bit surer of himself and his hunch. That didn’t mean they were out of the woods yet. Ed was still missing with someone whose intentions were unknown. The kid was tough and a good fighter, but he didn’t always have the best self-control. True, if Morris was out to harm him, he could claim self-defense if he hurt the man. However, Morris could just as easily claim that Ed was trying to attack him. Prodigy or not, child or not, the word of a well-respected, well-decorated officer would trump him and he could get kicked out of the military. Or worse.

It was kind of funny. He never felt like praying more than when one of the Elric brothers was in trouble. He just hoped God didn’t hate him enough to ignore those prayers and Ed wasn’t stupid enough to render them all useless.

*****

The last shackle shattered off of Ed’s foot and he sighed with relief. The arm had been the hardest part; trying to get enough of the chain in the circle so he could transmute it but not getting so much in the circle that he accidentally transmuted his own arm off. He really could not afford to lose two arms now. He had to bite two more fingers to get enough blood, but in the end, he managed to break out of those damn shackles.

“Looks like they underestimated me,” he said, grinning to himself as he slipped over to the door.

The shackles had been the easy part. Now came the hard part. With only one arm, his offensive capabilities were very limited. He wouldn’t be able to transmute anything in a fight. He could still punch and kick, but the two men who took him were built like tanks. It was a very real possibility that even his automail leg would do little to no damage against their muscular bodies. And that was assuming there were only two people who had taken him. There could be three. Or four. Or a hundred. Even if he had his other arm, he couldn’t fight a hundred guys alone.

Then there was the problem of Morris. He had no idea where the man was being held captive. He assumed it was somewhere around where he was, probably close by, but he couldn’t know that for sure. The longer he ran around looking for the man, the more likely he was to get spotted and recaptured.

The smart thing to do would be to get out of here, find the nearest phone, and call Colonel Asshole to come to help him out. It felt so cowardly.

He groaned. It felt cowardly, but if he got captured again, there was no telling what might happen. Mustang probably wouldn’t come looking for him for several hours. Al might, but he wouldn’t know to look here.

He bit his lip and stared at the door. “I’m sorry, Morris. I’ll come back for you, I swear.” Maybe after he called Mustang he could cause enough trouble with the shipping containers that it would keep the kidnappers from hurting or moving Morris.

Yeah, that was a good idea. It was the best of both worlds. He’d call Mustang and then come back and make some trouble. Especially if he spent a little bit of time carving some alchemy circles he could lay a bunch of traps. Okay. That plan made him feel better. He wasn’t abandoning Morris after all.

He bit his finger again. Hopefully, he’d be able to find a pen or chalk or something. This was getting ridiculous. The circle was complete. He pressed an ear to the door, straining to hear if there was a guard on the other side.

He couldn’t hear anything.

He drew another circle on the wall of the container, close enough so he could dive for it if a guard was outside. He put his hand on the circle.

“What the?”

Looks like he needed to get his hearing checked.

The door burst open and the man from before rushed through it.

“Why you little—” He didn’t get to finish that sentence as Ed managed to dive for the other circle on the floor, the metal warping and flying forward, pinning the man to the wall.

He struggled, but even he wasn’t strong enough to break through solid steel.

“Okay, that settles it. No looking for Morris at the moment.” He ducked under the warped metal and rolled outside.

He always forgot how heavy his automail was. His body was completely off balance, trying to compensate for weight that wasn’t there, causing him to lurch from one side to the other. He almost toppled over multiple times. It probably didn’t help that he had a concussion and a migraine. Damn kidnappers. For once could they just drug him or something? It’d probably be less hazardous to his health.

He was almost to the edge of the shipyard. There was a fence in the way, luckily he still had his automail leg which meant he could at least try to hop it. His lungs were burning. His body struggled to figure out how to run while missing a chunk of metal that was normally welded to his body. The sun made his vision go fuzzy. His head pounded. The cut on the side of his face started to bleed again.

He was close. So close. Almost there. Just a few more feet. Get ready to jump.

Pain exploded through his left shoulder and he smashed to the ground, throwing out his left hand to catch his fall only to cry out when it did connect with the ground. It felt like someone was trying to rip his arm off with a pair of pliers. He didn’t know if he let out a scream. He probably did. His shoulder fucking hurt.

He lay on the ground, panting for a few seconds; looking up to see he was so close to the fence. He could still make it. He still had his legs. The left side of his face was even more scrapped up now that he smashed into the ground. His head hurt even worse. He didn’t know what was wrong with his shoulder, but there was a steady pool of blood growing around him.

He pulled himself to his knees. He could still make it.

“You little brat.” A foot connected with his stomach, sending him flying across the ground. His shoulder screamed even more.

“You couldn’t wait a few goddamn minutes!” A foot slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

He gasped for air, not managing to take a full breath in. He staggered and managed to lean against the fence. The weak chain-link did little to support him.

“Colonel Morris?” he asked, looking up at the raging figure. He had seen a dog with rabies once. It was terrifying. Foaming at the mouth with unfocused eyes and hair falling off its body in clumps. Now, Morris wasn’t experiencing hair loss, or he couldn’t tell if he was experiencing hair loss, but he did look wild and crazed. This was scarier than the dog.

“What’s going on?” Colonel Morris had escaped? He shot him? Why?

“I knew taking that arm wasn’t going to be good enough. Should have taken that leg too.” He glared down at him. Ed couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him with this much hate in their eyes.

He cocked the gun. “You could have gotten out of this alive, Elric.”

Ed’s eyes widened. He tried to move his arm, to draw a transmutation circle, and knock this insane man out of his way. He couldn’t move it. It hurt too much.

“No, you don’t have to do this.”

He pointed the gun and pulled the trigger.

Now, even though his leg was automail, getting shot still technically hurt. It didn’t hurt as much as getting shot in the flesh, as his shoulder could attest, but the sudden breaking of wires and the jamming of machines meant the nerves that were still attached to his body now had a bunch of signals being fired at them, which hurt. A lot.

He let out another cry and hunched over, moving his arm to the leg only to remember that, oh yeah, there was still a bullet lodged in the shoulder. The leg seized and pulsed with a rogue electrical current, making his nerves go haywire and the left side of his body completely seize up.

Morris knelt and gripped his chin, forcing him to look at his face. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Elric. I’m going to drag you back to that container. You are going to undo whatever it is you did the guard. Then we’re going to go from there. Got it.”

Ed decided to go for broke and headbutt the man, feeling a slight bit of satisfaction when he felt the nose crunch from the impact. “Go to hell.”

Morris stumbled back, clutching his broken nose as blood started to dribble down his face.

“You fucking punk!” He lunged forward, gripping the back of his head and yanking it back. “The more difficult you are, the more I’m going to make you suffer as you slowly bleed out. From what I hear, that’s a special talent among the Drachma.”

“Fuck you,” he spat. If he was going to die here, he might as well piss off his murder. The entire left side of his body was useless now, but his right leg still seemed to be in working order. Maybe one good kick to the balls would be enough to take down Morris.

“I can’t believe I was worried about you.” Seriously, he was planning on coming back and risking capture again just to keep Morris alive. Fuck this. The next time he got kidnapped with someone unless it was Al, he was leaving their asses. Well, he might come back for Hawkeye. Oh, and he’d come back for Fuery. Breda too. Falman and Havoc were also someone he’d come back for. Mustang? Depends on how much that asshole pissed him off.

Morris let go of his hair and stood up. “I look forward to seeing the life leave your eyes. You’ve proved to be an even bigger thorn in my side than Mustang.”

“Get away from him.” The voice itself was low, almost a growl. Yet every word hung in the air, loud and clear.

Morris wasted no time pressing the gun to his forehead. It didn’t stop him from looking over to see Mustang standing a few feet from them, hand outstretched and ready to snap. He looked pissed. No, that wasn’t the right word for how he looked. He looked more than pissed. He looked murderous. It was kind of terrifying if Ed was being honest. He had seen Mustang looking angry, annoyed, pissed off, even furious on more than one occasion. This went beyond any of this. He never could picture Mustang of all people being terrifying enough to garner such respect. Now he got it. Now he understood why some people avoided him. Why some people whispered about him in the shadows. Why some people seemed honestly worried for Ed and Al’s safety. This wasn’t the sort of blind rage and fury he was used to. This was controlled, which made it all the more dangerous. Despite all of this, Ed didn’t feel afraid. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, but he still wasn’t afraid.

“Mustang? What the hell are you doing here?” Morris asked, his finger twitching on the trigger. Perhaps the reason Ed didn’t fear Mustang was because he currently had a trigger-happy mad man with a loaded gun pointed at him.

“I’m here for my major. Now, get away from him.”

Morris didn’t move. “We both know that’s not going to happen. As long as he’s here, you can’t use your fire. As soon as it hits me, the gun goes off. His head explodes like an over-filled water balloon. There’s no way he’d survive that.”

“So, you’re just going to sit there forever?” Mustang asked.

“Not forever. One of us is going to get tired first. With your arm outstretched like that, my guess is it’s going to be you.”

Mustang glared at him. Everything was still for a few seconds. Ed’s leg still spasmed and his arm and head hurt. He kind of wished someone would make a move so he could either die or get pumped full of enough painkillers to knock a horse out.

“Fullmetal, report,” Mustang barked.

“Really? Now?” he screeched. How could Mustang ask for a report now of all things?

“Yes really. Injuries, list them.”

Maybe this was part of the plan? Maybe Hawkeye was waiting in the shadows ready to blow Morris’ head off.

“Mustang—” Morris growled.

“You said it yourself, no one is going anywhere until someone makes a move. So, Fullmetal, tell me what your injuries are.”

He swallowed. “Um, I think I have a concussion. Left side of my face is bruised and there are a few scratches, but I don’t think any of them are bad. The right arm is missing.”

“I can see that.”

“You’re the one who asked for a report, asshole!” he shouted, hurting his own head. “Anyways, I was going to say they removed it properly so there isn’t anything to worry about there. I got shot in the shoulder. Hurts like a bitch. Got shot in the leg. Automail one. Messed up the wires so it’s useless and keeps seizing the muscles and nerves.” Damn, that was a long list of issues. He felt like he needed to lighten the mood. “My right leg is fine, though.”

“Fantastic. You can hop away from Morris like you’re on a pogo stick.”

“I didn’t ask for this to happen, asshole.”

“You were supposed to be going to the library.”

“I did go to the library!”

“And yet, I had to track you down to the shipyard. Kind of far from the library, Fullmetal.”

“Will you two knock it off?” Morris shouted.

Right, they were still in some sick and twisted standoff and he was the hostage.

Mustang narrowed his eyes; his outstretched hand as steady as ever, poised to snap the second he got an opening.

“Are you really in the position to be lecturing us?” he asked.

Morris laughed. “Don’t start with me, Mustang. Granted, this day hasn’t gone exactly according to plan,” he kicked Ed’s leg, sending another wave of electricity jolting through him. “But I can salvage it. I can still make my plan work.”

“And what plan is that?” Mustang asked.

“Getting rid of you. For years I’ve watched as you’ve clawed your way up the ranks faster than anyone else. I’ve seen your ambitions grow, your vision grow, your power grow. It’s disgraceful. How can anyone take the military seriously when they have someone so young take command?”

Ed couldn’t help but laugh at this. “You think he’s young?”

“Just because I’m not microscopic like you, doesn’t mean that I’m not young, especially for my rank.” Mustang deadpanned.

“Bastard! If I had two working arms and legs I’d come over there and kick your ass!”

“So, what? You kidnap my major and hope for what? How is this going to help get rid of me?”

Morris grinned. “I was going to stage a daring escape attempt, turn in the Drachma spies, and point out how irresponsible it is for you to let such a young child get taken by spies. He’d get placed with another Colonel, and then I’d move onto the next subordinate. I was thinking of going after Breda next.”

Mustang tensed, the only indication that Morris’ words were getting to him.

“I wasn’t going to be quick about this. I was playing the long game. Of course,” he looked back down at Ed, glaring, “this little brat couldn’t sit still for ten fucking minutes, messing everything up.”

“Thanks, it’s a talent.”

“It’s a nuisance.”

“I have to agree with him.”

Ed glared at Mustang. He hoped this was all leading somewhere because his body hurt. He wanted to lay down and sleep. He wanted for his leg to stop spasming every five seconds. He wanted a lot of things that he couldn’t have since there was a gun still pressed to his forehead.

“How about it, Colonel Roy Mustang? How are you planning on getting out of this one? I can stand here all day, and I noticed you didn’t bring any backup. How are you planning on getting out of this with Edward Elric’s life still intact? I suppose we could make a trade. Isn’t that what you alchemists are all about? Equal trades? You could just turn that fire on yourself.”

This knocked the wind out of his lungs. Turn the fire on himself? He glanced at Mustang, hoping that wasn’t his plan B. He had to have another one. He had to. This was Mustang they were talking about. Sure, he was lazy, egotistical, and a jerk, but he had to have something else planned other than standing in a stand-off for the next few hours until his arm was too tired and he dropped it, giving Morris the perfect opportunity to shoot and kill him.

“You’re pathetic,” Mustang growled.

“Excuse me?” Morris pressed the gun against his head harder.

He couldn’t help the hitch in his breath.

“You heard me. You’re pathetic. A pathetic coward.”

“I’m a coward?” Morris roared.

Ed swallowed, trying to keep his breathing calm and even. He trusted Mustang. He was in control of this situation. He still sounded calm. He still sounded in control. This had to be going according to plan.

“A pathetic coward,” Mustang repeated. “You took a child hostage in hopes of ruining my career. You spend your time setting up this elaborate plan instead of doing your job and when it goes wrong, you continue to try and dig yourself out of the hole you’ve made. So yes, you are a pathetic coward.”

“If you just followed the rules and stayed in your lane, followed the track that everyone else has to follow, then no one would resort to this!” Morris screamed.

“Do you want to know why I’ve risen through the ranks this quickly? It’s because I haven’t spent my time looking for ways to stab my peers in the back. If you spent half as much energy on your actual work instead of playing these games, maybe you’d get somewhere in life. Not only are you a pathetic coward, but you’re also a useless coward. Honestly, I’m surprised you got so far in your career in the first place.”

“Shut up!” Morris roared.

The gun left Ed’s forehead and before he could even blink, a ball of fire smashed into him. The gun went off, the bullet whizzing dangerously close to the right side of his body. Had his arm been there, it would have been shot. Morris himself flew through the air, screaming as the flames caught on his clothes and surrounded him.

“Hawkeye put him out!” Mustang shouted as he rushed to Ed’s side, looping his arms around his waist and pulling him away from the burning man.

Hawkeye seemingly materialized out of nowhere and doused the man in water, stamping out the flames before he could be completely burned up.

“Are you alright?” Mustang asked. The calm, collected, and in control, exterior crumbled away and Ed could see just how worried he really was.

“Um…” No, he wasn’t alright. There were two bullets in his body. He was missing his arm. He had a concussion. He had just been held at gunpoint for like ten minutes. And his vision was rapidly going dark. “I think I ran out of adrenaline. I’m going to pass out now.”

“What? No! Fullmetal!”

And pass out he did, right in a puddle of his blood. Fan-fucking-tastic.

*****

He recognized where he was at before he even opened his eyes. It was the smell that gave it away. All hospitals had this unnerving, unnatural smell of cleanliness that made his head hurt.

“Brother?” He heard Al’s worried voice to the side of him. “Are you awake?”

Well, should probably open his eyes, figure out what was going on. “Hmm? Yeah. Getting there,” he said, his voice slurring a bit.

“That’s great. You haven’t been out for long, but I was still worried. They found your arm. It’s in one piece so they’ll attach it as soon as your concussion is dealt with. They had to remove the leg. Winry said she’ll be able to fix it pretty easily but the power surges worried the doctors.”

“Al?”

“Yeah?”

“Be quiet for like, two minutes. I’m barely awake.”

“Oh, sorry about that.”

“No problem.” It did take a few minutes for him to pull himself fully out of unconsciousness. He had to be on some sort of painkillers because he felt like he was floating on a cloud. It was kind of nice, compared to waking up chained to a floor in a shipping container. Finally, he managed to open his eyes. It was still light out, which either meant it was the same day, which was good. Or it meant that it was a new day, which was not so good.

“How long have I been out?”

“A few hours. Doctors had to operate on your shoulder. They said you had a shattered collarbone so they had to put some pins in it to heal it properly.”

“Great, now both of my arms are useless,” he mumbled, looking down at where his left arm was bound to his body to keep him from moving.

“The doctors think they’ll be able to reattach your right arm tonight.”

He winced. What was worse? Not having any arms at all, or sitting through the nerves reconnecting while the left side of his body was shot to shit?

“I’m not looking forward to that.” He managed to wiggle himself up into a sitting position, now feeling a bit more awake. “What happened to Morris?”

“They arrested him. Turns out, he sold some information to Drachma, which is why they agreed to kidnap you.”

“Great. So glad that was all sorted out. Bastard shot me, twice.”

“That’s better than being shot three times,” Mustang said, walking through the door.

“What are you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to deal with was getting scolded and lectured by Mustang. He didn’t even know what the man would scold him on since none of this was technically his fault, but it was Mustang. He’d find something.

“I’m sorry that my concern for my subordinate is inconveniencing you.”

“I’m going to go get the doctor and tell her that your awake,” Al said. He shuffled out the door, his metallic footsteps slowly fading as he walked down the hall.

“I didn’t give them any information if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Mustang’s face hardened. “That’s not…” he sighed and pinched his brow. “That’s not something I’m worried about.”

This caught Ed off guard. “Really? Then seriously, why are you here?”

Mustang sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked angry but less so than the last time Ed had seen him.

“You were just taken hostage by military personnel who seemed ready to kill you. You don’t have any emotions about that at all?”

He did. He just didn’t want to say them. Saying them meant they were real. He looked away from Mustang and decided to start counting the number of threads on the sheet covering his knees. One. Two. Three. Four.

“Fullmetal.”

Dammit. He lost count. Now he had to start over. One. Two. Three. Four.

“Edward.”

He froze. When was the last time Mustang used his full name? He looked up. He was staring at him, clearly worried, though his body language suggested he didn’t exactly know how to deal with it.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, then talk to someone else.”

He crossed his arms. Or, he attempted to cross his arms before remembering that one was missing and the other was strapped to his body to keep it from moving.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“I was going to go back for him.” He admitted, quietly. “I didn’t know he was the one behind all of this. I was going to go find a phone, call you, and then go back for him. Even though I didn’t have an arm.”

Mustang twitched ever so slightly. He decided to ignore it and press on.

“I thought something was weird when he offered to help me. I convinced myself nothing was wrong. I trusted him.” And there it was. The crux of the entire issue.

Ed had assumed that because Morris was in the military, he could trust him at least somewhat. He thought he was safe with him. If he couldn’t trust other people in the military, then who could he trust? He was used to adults walking out of him, leaving him, abandoning him. He thought he got to a place where he didn’t trust anyone except for Al, Winry, granny, and maybe Teacher (though she was still insane). Yet, here he was, blindly putting his faith in someone simply because they wore a blue uniform. What a joke.

Mustang reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. It was awkward and the way he seemed intent on staring at the wall suggested he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Sorry, you had to go through that.”

“Am I supposed to live my life constantly worried someone’s going to stab me in the back? Never going anywhere alone with someone? Never letting my guard down? Is Al the only person I can trust? Can I even trust—” He cut himself off before he could say you.

Mustang’s ego was big enough. He told himself. He didn’t need to know that Ed kind of liked the bastard. A little. Barely. He hated him more than he liked him. Didn’t he say he was going to kick his ass for calling him microscopic? He still had one working leg.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Mustang’s hand hadn’t moved from his shoulder. Ed was glad.

“Is that why you’re such an asshole to everyone?”

Surprisingly, Mustang laughed. “That’s part of the reason.” He admitted. “The other part is that I just don’t like most people.”

“But you trust Hughes and Hawkeye. And you trust Havoc, Breda, Fuery, Falman. You trust them. I know you do.”

“I also trust you too.”

This surprised him. He figured Mustang didn’t see him as a threat, but not seeing someone as a threat was a far cry from trusting them.

“Do you trust me?”

Yes. He trusted Mustang to come to his aid in the shipyard. He trusted Mustang to have a plan for getting him away from Morris. Even now, when he was bedbound with no way to defend himself (unless an enemy wanted to plant his crotch right in the path of Ed’s foot) he trusted Mustang. It kind of shocked him.

Mustang squeezed his shoulder and dropped his hand. He already missed the contact.

“You’re more perceptive than you think, Fullmetal. Your gut knows who you can and can’t trust. You should listen to it.”

“You think?” he snorted.

Mustang shrugged. “Mine’s usually right.”

“Really? When’s the last time your gut instinct was right?”

“Today.”

He felt his heart drop.

“It’s the only reason I was able to find you.” He stood up. “Please don’t give the nurses a hard time. There’s a particularly cute one who’s this close to giving me her phone number.”

He rolled his eyes. “Figures. I nearly die today and all you can think about are women.”

“You’re not dying right now.”

Ed went to chuck a pillow at the laughing asshole. Right, can’t do that. Missing an arm and the other one is out of commission for the time being.

“Asshole! You know I can’t kick your ass right now.”

“I know. It’s great to know that I can say and do whatever I want to you and you’re helpless, shorty.”

“Why you!”

“Brother, please calm down!” Al said, rushing back to the room, doctor in tow.

“Al, as your older brother I order you to kick his ass!”

“Um… I don’t think…” Al waved his hands helplessly.

“I expect a report of today’s incident on my desk tomorrow,” Mustang said. He was taking way too much joy in this.

“You can’t even get your reports done that quickly!”

“Brother, please.”

Ed slumped back against the pillows, still glaring at the door the coward had disappeared out of. Something he said though still stuck in his mind. Mustang could have done whatever he wanted with Ed like this. Hell, he didn’t even have to come after him, technically. But he had. He had stopped everything to come help him.

The doctor was asking him questions. Al was sitting at his side, still fussing. Maybe Ed couldn’t trust everyone in the military, but there was at least one he could trust. More if you counted the rest of Mustang’s team. And then there was Hughes and Major Armstrong. The doctor was getting exasperated by him not answering her questions. He sighed and decided not to make this poor woman’s life miserable. He could trust one adult. For now, that was enough.