Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

April 1st, Earth-16, Gotham.

Edward awoke to a massive, ringing headache so deep in his skull that it gave him the impression that a ghost had violated his eye sockets all the way into his brain.

It made him contemplate all the times he had the chance to punch that bastard, Truth, right in his creepy little smug face. Next time. He promised. If there was even a next time.

The lingering pain within his body was an awful, awful feeling, one that he was sadly familiar with, as one tends to get after so many visits to God's domain.

The sensation of your skull splitting, splintering after the barrage of information being shoved into your brain at unfathomable speeds. The chill of the shadows, and feeling of pure primal terror when you feel your stomach continuously dropping when you're thrust into the endless expanse of darkness, within the vast thralls of that infernal gate. The small, slithering tendrils of endless souls merged into one incoherent mess, dragging you into the other side.

Except this time was different.

For one, he was left within the gate for way longer than he should have. His headache had effectively rendered him unconscious, and he didn't know for how long. That wasn't usual. But once again, nothing was usual after...

His whole body hurt. It was like he was hurled onto a wall, dissected molecule by molecule, and then put back together only to repeat the process.

He cracked an eye open, attempting to adjust to the dim light so as to not agitate his hammering headache. He took in the view, noticing the tall buildings, the fire escape, and the smog-covered sky. It smelled unpleasant, but he wasn't coherent enough to complain.

An experimental twitch of his fingers and toes confirmed that he still had all four limbs. Well, what's left of them anyway. The automail was still intact, miraculously so. But the leg could probably use some maintenance.

He slowly pushed himself up, taking in the scene further. It seemed to be a desolate alley of sorts, littered with scattered garbage bags and a single stray cat milling about the far corner, burying its head into one of the bags. It noticed him and bounded towards him, tail raised happily.

Edward leaned against the brick wall, letting the pain subside, when the cat licked him gently on the cheek. He smiled.

"Hey there, buddy." He croaked, his voice sounding scratchy and unused. The cat meowed in response.

It reminded him of all the times Alphonse would come to him with a similar cat hidden inside his armor, begging to be allowed to keep it. Of course, Edward had always refused.

But now, he won't be there to say no to Alphonse anymore.

"I guess this is as good a welcome as I'm gonna get, judging by the looks of this place." He mused, sounding bittersweet. "Kinda ironic. Ain't that right, Mr kitty?"

The cat made a noise of satisfaction as it buried itself in his coat. Edward hummed as he contemplated his situation.

Earlier...

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Mr alchemist. What have you come to bargain for this time? Your brother's body? Your own? Or is it something else?"

"Truth." Edward ground out, doing his best to steel himself in the presence of the same being who laughed in his face as his limbs were taken.

"We have all the time in the world. Well, I do. What will it be?" Truth's face was split into that shit eating grin, stretching out Edward's right arm in a questioning gesture. The arm he stole.

He cursed inwardly. He knew this would be the dumbest, most selfish decision he's ever made, but it was for the best. It had to be done.

He didn't have much time, though. Alphonse's soul could only linger so much....

"I want Alphonse's body back, in exchange for mine." He spoke steadily, steering his plan into its alternate course.

Alphonse's body, emaciated as it was, looked on in horror.

"Y-you can't," he pleaded, but Edward smiled reassuringly. It didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't worry, Al, this time's gonna be different."

"Oh, what makes it so?" Truth chimed in, looking amused.

"Because I'd like to sacrifice my soul as well. In exchange for Roy's eyesight and Izumi's organs."

Truth frowned, looking almost hesitant.

"Are you sure?" He was uncharacteristically quiet, almost as if he expected something different.

Edward himself was unsure. This was practically suicide.

But it had to be done. Alphonse deserved a body, and Roy and Izumi were the better fighters. With them both, as well as him and Alphonse, being out of commission with a rampaging homunculus with a God complex on the loose... It was between this and that. At least this way, there'd be a chance for all of the others to live.

"...Yes. I contemplated offering my gate for Alphonse, but..." He looked at Alphonse's face, looking all but one breeze away from breaking.

" The others need this too. So it makes sense to just give my whole instead of just being trapped here... Go big or go home, right?" He laughed bitterly.

If all went according to plan, this would be his best and last contribution to humanity. He would be helping them fight.

"You would have solved the puzzle with the gate answer." Truth deadpanned, looking at him with an invisible, searing gaze. "I will ask again. Are you sure?"

"Yes." Edward's shoulders were squared as usual, but he seemed resigned. He had promised Winry he'd be coming back with Al. He had promised Ling he'd watch him become king. He had promised so much.

But if he didn't do this, there wouldn't be anyone to keep his promises to.

Truth was silent for a long time. Then it started laughing. No, cackling maniacally would be the correct description. Edward tried his best not to flinch.

"You solved alchemy's greatest riddle, and yet you'd rather give up your being if it meant that others would survive?" He clutched his non-existent stomach, doubling over.

"And here I thought you couldn't be more surprising." Truth smoothed over, his grin looking more maniacal than it was malign.

"How about I give you an offer, Mr alchemist?"

Edward visibly stiffened. An offer? Truth didn't do offers. What happened to their deal?

"Consider it a gift from the goodness of my heart, to the world's brightest little alchemist." The mouth opened impossibly wider.

"What kind of offer?" Edward asked.

"How about this? I give your brother and the other two what they once had. Make them complete once again. You don't lose anything."

Edward looked incredulous.

"What's the catch?" He spat. Truth knew better than to think him an idiot. There was always a catch, even if it was a "generous offer". Truth always took something. Always.

"Let me rephrase this. You don't lose anything more than what you've given already, meaning your previous sacrifices. Your arm and your leg will stay here.

Your friends, however... They lose you." The silhouette jabbed a finger into the air.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Edward rubbed his face in frustration. This was wasting his time. He didn't like standing around negotiating with a self-proclaimed God when the weight of his imminent death was on his head.

"You'll be sent far away. A different place, a different time. A different world." He explained.

"And as a bonus, you get to keep your gate and your body. That is my gift for being the first to find the answer."

Edward couldn't believe his ears. A different world? He'd never considered it a possibility. Alphonse looked to be having the same reaction.

But, would he be able to live all on his own? There would be no Alphonse in the other world. No Winry, no granny, nobody...

But they'd live, and so would he.

"Brother." Alphonse's body pleaded, staring at him. The request went unspoken.

That finally cemented his decision. Edward knew that the offer was better than he could dream of, given the cruel nature of the laws governing the universe. Or the multiverse, now that he was aware of the existence of another world, possibly even more. The scales of good and evil rarely ever tipped in someone's favor; it would be foolish to turn them down.

"Fine. I accept your offer. On the condition that you swear that they'll be alright. All of them." Edward crossed his arms in determination. If it were for Alphonse, he'd take whatever challenges life threw at him in stride. This was just another challenge that he had to overcome. Another obstacle.

Truth nodded. "You have my word."

At that, shadowy tendrils took away Alphonse. Even despite his being a shell of his brother, he still held his soul and his emotions. He was part of Alphonse, and he was grieving.

"Take care of them for me," Edward said, barely audible over the creak of the gate and the whispers of the darkness.

"You know I will." There were tears in his eyes as he replied. "Goodbye, brother."

"Goodbye."

And with that, Alphonse was gone. Edward turned towards the shadowy being.

"Now that that's done," Truth started, glee painting his words.

"I'd like to start the second part." The distance between them and Alphonse's gate suddenly started to stretch, until it disappeared far into the white horizon. Edward watched on in apprehension.

There was rumbling from behind him, and he whipped around to see his gate rearranging itself subtly. A few new symbols replaced old ones, and a different type of stone appeared, outlining the massive doors like a frame. It shone brightly as new runes and inscriptions etched themselves onto it like lightning carving earth with great precision.

The doors opened.

Edward turned back towards the Truth, staring at the blank white face. Truth levelled him with a familiar grin.

"I hope this will be our last meeting, Mr Alchemist." He heard the being say as the shadowy hands wrapped around him and dragged him into the dark expanse, being offered no resistance by the blond.

And then, there was pain.

________________________

Edward ducked behind a dumpster. He clapped his hands and touched his ragged coat, fixing the tears in his attire and also dyeing it black to blend in with the bustling crowd on the streets. His cat companion wasn't spooked by the flashing light, thankfully, so he picked it up and tucked it into his coat, fitting it snugly into an inner pocket. It purred and kneaded in approval.

He pulled on his hood and made his way out of the alley, doing his best to walk with purpose and not look too out of place. Who knew what kind of people inhabited this world, familiar as it looked.

He continued his stride, discreetly glancing around to take in the scenery.

Cars zoomed around at incredible speeds, people spoke into rectangular devices, and screens displayed moving pictures. Saying Edward was shaken by it would be the understatement of the century.

At least Winry wasn't around to screech over all that technology... He sighed. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing at this point.

He walked until he reached a somewhat presentable store, with the front labeled "Petra's Pet Pocket" in swirly letters, written in an unfamiliar language but he could read it all the same. Must've gotten it from the gate.

He ducked into the alley nearby and quickly transmuted a collar out of metal scraps and discarded cloth. He made sure to make it look nice and presentable, a lovely red to match the gray fur of his little friend.

He spared a glance around. Right across the street, a shop read "Deck Star" with bold letters. He chuckled softly at the name before transmuting the name Dexter onto the tag and slipping it on the little cat.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he started, startling the poor woman at the register of the pet shop. She clutched her pearls as she replied, "Yes?"

She stiffened when he reached into his coat, but visibly relaxed when he revealed the tabby kitten, golden slitted eyes sparkling with sadness at being removed from his little snuggling spot.

"I think he needs a home."

She nodded, fawning over the furry creature.

"Who would abandon such a cute thing?"

"No idea."

Edward left the store. As much as he wanted to keep the cat, he wasn't exactly in the best kind of position to do so. He was effectively homeless, in a foreign world, with not a single paper on him.

Oh yeah, he was going to have to work on that. Maybe when he's stable, he'll get a pet. Or two.

Yeah. To new beginnings. Both for me and for you, kitty cat.

Chapter Text

May 7th, Gotham City.

Edward formulated a few conclusions during his brief four-week stay in the foreign world.

First of all, what in the fuck?

Second of all, Holy shit that man is flying.

Third of all, well... Aliens!

It was safe to say he was... startled.

Commodities like wireless phones and the internet were concepts he hadn't expected to face, but could adjust to. It would take time, and a bit of convincing, of course. But the existence of actual space aliens would take ages to grasp fully.

Nope, more like eternity.

First, he had considered the possibility that he was dreaming. Maybe his long rollercoaster of a trip through that godforsaken gate had finally been the last straw for his brain, and he had finally gone off the rails. But seeing the moving pictures displaying the man in blue fighting what could only be described as a giant mutant lizard on the screen was something else entirely. His brain tried desperately to rationalize it, but alas, he couldn't detect any signs of alchemy or foul play.

The guardians of this world— this Earth, he corrected himself, called themselves the Justice League. They had people who could fly, aliens, superhuman strength and abilities, actual make-shit-disappear type magicians, and so much more.

And the fact that the timeline was completely different from his own— as he seemed to have jumped around ninety years forward— didn't seem as absurd compared to everything else this world had going. Being in the future was dwarfed in comparison to those revelations.

But he also started to get desensitized to it once he got used to seeing their faces on screens and newspaper articles all the time.

Still thought they were cool, though. Just in an absurd, existential-crisis-inducing kinda way.

This quickly got him to understand the way this world's hero politics worked. The big flashy Leaguers probably worked as both law enforcers and symbols of peace to the general populace, almost like a pseudo army. They had a certain image to uphold, besides their actual self-appointed duties. Although there was no evidence that he could find of suspicious activity, there were probably a few things going on in the background that were different than what the facades suggested. For one, why would they have masks and secret identities if their headquarters were in plain sight? The idea of a hidden identity itself seemed like a lot of extra work, but he understood once he found out about the paparazzi and the extreme lengths they would take to document the lives of famous people. It would be a hazard to have that kind of information for the public, where anyone could easily take advantage of it to harm people related to the Heroes. This also suggested that they either had extreme trust in their security systems or they had their equivalent of an underground lair. Hopefully without the megalomaniac homunculus.

Another question that presented itself was whether or not they were involved with the government. Either way, he would have to be careful. The Batman dwelled in Gotham the most, and on the off chance that Edward would be spotted and identified as a foreign entity, he could end up having to confront him or getting the government involved. Then he would be in trouble, and he might get arrested, questioned, experimented on, or worse, put in an orphanage. That wouldn't be good.

... Moving on.

Who did the league's dirty work? Assuming said dirty work was only lighter and more localized missions, of course. Someone had to be handling the smaller and less conspicuous missions, right? He didn't want to think about the stuff that could be going on if an organization that strong turned out to be corrupt. He would have to make contingency plans for that scenario anyway. It would be near impossible to fight the whole Justice League on his own, but at least he'd have a 1% chance rather than none. He did take down villainous immortal beings before, after all. Maybe he wasn't alone at the time, but now he's learned.

Edward flipped a page in his rapidly growing notebook. He was collecting information on the league through articles he gathered. Newspaper clippings were transmuted onto paper and bookmarked, and he didn't bother to code them. Nobody would understand his notes anyway since Amestris wasn't an actual place on this Earth, which meant Amestrian wasn't an actual language.

Speaking of geography, even the continents were different. Everything was so foreign that he almost didn't recognize the map as an actual map. He was currently in a country called America, which was a bit ironic in his opinion. America had a similar war streak with Amestris, if not worse. It seemed that everywhere he went, he would find soil drenched with the aftermath of war. He didn't like the implications of that.

He did his best to memorize the geography. It could come in handy.

His lamp flickered a bit, and he sighed. He had been crashing at an abandoned warehouse by the docks, and there were no lamps. He had to get another one soon because his makeshift lantern was barely holding up as is, and he didn't think there'd be any lamp oil around.

The warehouse was dark, dank, and dreary, but it felt as close to home as it could to him. It had reminded him of unfortunate nights spent sleeping in the open next to a suit of armor with only a suitcase, the clothes on his back, and a vague, dead-end of a lead that he would chase behind like a parched man lost chasing a mirage, reminiscing days of a lost childhood and misadventures. Maybe Alphonse wasn't there with him anymore, but he reassured himself that as long as he knew the kid was alright and fully intact, he would be fine. It didn't make it hurt any less, though, but maybe not getting to see his brother live after all the hardships was part of Truth's trade. That was fine, he surmised. Knowledge was enough.

He buried himself in the clothes he "borrowed" from someone's clothesline. They had fit weird, so he transmuted them to fit better and look cooler. Say whatever about his taste, at least he was consistent.

However, he did try to be less conspicuous, so he stuck to outfit choices that were a bit less... striking. He found that a black hoodie and jeans worked best, despite his wanting to have at least one article of clothing in his beloved red color. He will have to suck it up for now, though. Dark colors made him blend into his surroundings better. It didn't do much against the cold of the night, nor did it make the heat of the day tolerable, but he's been to a desert wearing a coat and gloves before; he could manage with a little heat.

He tapped his pen in thought as he revised the information he had gathered. Public info could only get him so far, and information on the internet sometimes contradicted itself. The best he could do was observe and come up with his own conclusions.

So far, he understood a lot about the powers of the Justice League. Most of them were around homunculus or state alchemist level threats, as far as he could tell. They knew the technicalities of fighting. They didn't kill, which was a sentiment he could applaud, and most of them seemed to be born with their powers. At least, they didn't seem to be using external factors aside from their weapons and support items. There were no signs of alchemy use, neither regular nor stone enhanced. He had been awfully skeptical when it came to that Zatara guy, but he once again was unable to find any signs of alchemy, so he had to begrudgingly accept that it was a different kind of practice. Not magic, though. That would be an insult to his principles.

There were still many gaps and holes in his analysis. But the one that eluded him was the very guy he would be having to evade the most, unfortunately.

The Bat seemed to be a sort of wild card. There was so little information about him. Aside from apparently having a young partner named Robin, he didn't have much on the man. Appearance-wise, he wore all black and had his face covered by a cowl. He couldn't even see his whole armor, because on the few clear pictures that were taken by the press, the man had been draped in his long pitch black cape, concealing most of his attire. Talk about dramatic.

Edward groaned in frustration. No, he was not going to admit that Colonel Bastard was right by having him write all those mission reports and read all those stupid files. Absolutely not. Didn't matter that it paid off now that he was gathering this information. The colonel should still taste his boot for it.

What about Batman's kid? He leafed through his notes. Also very little info. Should have expected that.

The only things he could gather were that there was no apparent use of superpowers (it still felt strange for him to think about those abilities like that. Even the Homunculi had fallen under the alchemy umbrella) and a few items like shadow bombs, some kind of armor, and modified shuriken. That was about it.

Edward sighed again. He was usually the type to barge into the thrum of things blind. But now, he had no support system. It was a major pain in the ass to keep a track record of a bunch of strangers, but at least this way he'd have an idea. This probably meant the slimy colonel was rubbing off on him with his paranoia. He shuddered.

The league was also kinda cool, and maybe he liked Wonder Woman the most because she vaguely reminded him of a certain teacher.

His stomach grumbled, making him groan and kick his legs.

Stealing wasn't something he liked to do, based on the fact that the people he stole from usually were only trying to make a living. He wouldn't have given two fucks if it had been the military or the government he was stealing shit from, but he was trying to stay away from malls and shopping districts as much as he could. He couldn't afford to let himself look like a foreigner, because it opened him up to threats and made the wrong people curious. Sticking to sparsely populated areas was his safest bet.

Of course, he couldn't be taking things without giving back, he mused. He usually discreetly fixed things around the places he swiped from, like broken shelves and supplies, but he was trying not to draw attention, so there wasn't much he could do. He had the passing suspicion some of the shop owners were aware of him, but they didn't say anything. Probably assumed he was some poor homeless kid that they were doing a favor.

Well... He is technically homeless. He's not a kid, though. Not a kid.

Maybe this was stressing him out too much. His hands started to shake, and he clenched his mismatched gloved fists to stop them from doing so. He just needed to make a short trip, that was all. No need to get all sentimental about it. Mustang would probably laugh if he saw him like this, and Teacher would be disappointed.

He physically shook the thoughts out of his head and shut his notebook, storing it inside his backpack. He got to his feet and dusted off his pants before alchemically locking his stuff in a hidden space under the crates and leaving.

Nights at Gotham weren't necessarily chilly, as summer was approaching. But it didn't mean he didn't feel cold. He'd been randomly shivering and shuddering a whole lot more lately, making him feel annoyed but also restless.

Soon enough, the shops came into view. The concrete sidewalk was dimly illuminated by mismatched lamps and neon signs. There were a few stores open, one of which was the convenience store he'd been visiting the most in the past few nights.

Instant cup ramen and a few candies went into his pocket, and Edward was quickly out the door before the cashier even noticed his presence.

Sparse dust and gravel crunched subtly under his boots as he strode along the street, nibbling on some gummy worms. The night sky was as dark and gloomy as usual, not a single star in sight from the abundance of polluting smoke and tar. It was a stark contrast to the clear skies of Amestris, glowing bright in the countryside and even within Central, its most bustling city. The streets there were spacier, and the people— although wary— were friendlier. This place was different, incredibly so. Even little things like these invoked so little recognition. Edward didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

His footsteps halted as a distant, unintelligible noise resounded from afar. It sounded vaguely of... Laughter?

He decided to investigate.

His feet dragged him towards the source, voices becoming more distinct and animated the closer he got. He rounded a few more corners before arriving at the bank where police cars were gathered and alarms were blaring, but every officer in the area seemed to be on the floor, rolling in deep guttural laughter. No, they were writhing in laughter. In pain.

Edward took note of the silvery powder settled on the ground, touching a bit with his gloved hand, and quickly analysed it. It had traces of nitrous oxide, as well as other elements. Laughing gas. But worse.

The sound of a gun being shot in the distance made him look up, and he was quickly greeted with the sight of the one man he did not want to see.

Batman was here, so was Robin.

The dark masked duo descended quickly from their grapple lines, making their way through the fallen policemen and into the building. Edward, despite wanting to evade the masked man, was too overcome with his urge to behold the spectacle that was surely to come.

There were gunshots heard from within the bank as the conflict began. It didn't last long, which was a bit disappointing, as Batman had come out of the building a few minutes later with the tied and cuffed clown-mask wearing thieves.

Edward huffed, readying himself to leave the vicinity as inconspicuously as possible. But just as he was turning, the situation seemed to finally unravel itself.

Thirty or forty so clown henchmen emerged from the shadows, arms all trained on the Bat and his kid. The clown himself made his little dramatic entrance by parking by, or rather driving his car into a wall, with a blond woman tied and gagged in the passenger seat. He dragged her out as she cried and trembled, a truly twisted, sinister grin plastered on his face.

"Shit... They were ambushed." Edward muttered to himself, backing tightly against the wall to stay hidden.

"Well, well, well. Looks like Batsy-boo and his little birdie are all backed into a corner now, boys." The Joker drawled in that awful, grating tone of his, harshly pulling the trembling woman to her feet.

Batman and Robin took more defensive stances, hands on their belts, poised to draw their weapons.

"Nuh-uh-uh. Drop all your gear, or she gets it." The Joker chastised, like a parent to a child. The woman shook her head in fear as he pressed the barrel of his gun to her temple.

Batman turned to Robin and nodded. They dropped their shuriken and utility belts and raised their hands up in surrender.

"Let the hostage go, Joker. She has nothing to do with this." Batman commanded, his gruff voice strained with tension. If looks could kill, the glare that Batman had sent the Joker's way would have burned him to a crisp and then scattered his ashes across the Galaxy.

"My pleasure." The clown said. The woman looked almost hopeful, almost. But then the Joker fired.

Her body slumped forward, hitting the ground almost in slow motion. She twitched a little, trying to lift her arms. The gun cocked and fired again. Then again. Then again. Until a whole clip was emptied into her body and she was completely, utterly, dead.

"What the hell..." Robin vocalized, looking shaken. Batman held his composure only visibly. There was no mistaking the lines that dug themselves in his lower face, making him look impossibly more grim.

"Fucking bastard..." Edward muttered, eyes wide at the scene.

"I put her down like you asked." The Joker explained, mock serious expression on his face. "That's what they do to sick dogs, you know."

He pocketed the empty gun in his coat and outstretched a hand to a henchman, who quickly handed him a rifle similar to the ones everyone was holding. He held it in a loose, casual grip, levelling it towards the two vigilantes who were starting to look more and more desperate by the second. Robin's expression was strained, and Batman was running out of patience and composure.

Edward watched in horror as the Joker shot, grazing Robin's shoulder. The young vigilante held his shoulder in pain, face screwed into a grimace as he hissed.

"Son of a bitch."

"Now, is that a way to discipline your kids, Batman? All potty mouth and no tact. Say, how about I discipline him for you?" He levelled his gun at them again, and Edward saw the fear run through the kid's expression. The Joker stepped on the puddle of blood that formed in front of him without a care, grin widening as he shot again, this time barely missing the kid as he dodged to the side.

Edward cursed.

Damn it.

Damn it all.

Nobody heard the distant clap sound that seemed to eerily reverberate through the air, nor seemed to catch a glimpse of the flash of light that followed. But everyone saw the giant wall of asphalt that formed itself, seemingly of its own accord, right in between the vigilantes and the insane clown and his posse.

Everything stilled for a second, where you could hear a pin drop. Then it was chaos.

A rain of bullets descended on the wall, breaking the silence with the thundering fire that did nothing but graze the surface. Batman quickly took the opportunity to claim back his gear, followed by Robin.

The two were taken aback by the sudden phenomenon, but it seemed to play in their favor. They were protected from the Joker for now, which meant they were just offered to gain back the upper hand.

Soon, a figure gracefully hopped over from the shadows and made its appearance in front of the two, who immediately assumed defensive stances. Oddly gloved hands raised in a pacifying gesture.

"I'm on your side." The boy explained, taking a step forward so the streetlight finally illuminated his... Cat mask? It covered all of his face except for his eyes, glinted like it was made of steel, and had almost cartoony cat features, as if it was made on a whim. Robin blinked.

"Was this your doing?" Batman approached, nodding towards the asphalt wall.

The boy stood straighter, shoulders squared as he stared up at the cowl.

"Yes."

Batman's eyes slitted, gaze boring into the kid's own. He held the eye contact for a few seconds before softening ever so slightly and nodding firmly. Robin seemed to silently understand the man's gesture, as a smirk played on his lips soon after, loosening his stiff form into something less hostile.

"Got a plan?" Robin asked.

Edward grinned wolfishly under his mask. "Sure do." He confirmed, cracking the knuckles on his left hand. "Time to make that clown bastard pay."

"Stop firing at the wall, you stupid good-for-nothings!" The bullets stopped once the order was uttered by the Joker. He shot a random guy in the leg in frustration, a vein popping on the side of his head despite his manic grin still being plastered on his face.

"Batsy-watsy is still cornered. They'll have to come out soon enough, just be patient!" He explained. He whistled a tune and leaned on his rifle like it was a cane, waiting for the Dark Knight to eventually show his face.

After a few minutes, the silence was broken by an earth-shattering chasm in the ground, sending all the men flying in the air and back down. Once this was over, the two vigilantes wasted no time coming out from their hideout and quickly and efficiently disarming all the henchmen while they were down, sending smoke pellets to obscure their positions for good measure. All the Joker's pawns were taken out in no time.

The Joker looked furious. His hair was disheveled, and he was gritting his teeth, almost foaming at the mouth in rage at seeing his plan foiled in such little time. He lifted his gun, malice in his eyes, and this time pointed at the little bird's head. His grin widened as he was about to pull the trigger.

A hand grabbed the barrel and twisted it. His manic eyes met a pair of golden— and mostly pissed off— eyes and the fist connected before he was able to dodge it, sending him barreling towards the ground. Batman was quick to catch up, delivering a devastating kick to his side before finally putting him in cuffs.

"Fuckin' clown..." Edward muttered.

"Hey, thanks for the assist." Robin chirped from beside him, almost sending him flying out of his skin. Edward noted with a bit of amusement that the kid seemed shorter than him.

"No problem." He watched Batman move to assist the fallen policemen, who seemed to finally be recovering from the chemicals, administering antidotes.

Edward's hands went into his pockets, where his earlier acquired candies had crinkled under his touch. He must have dropped the ramen sometime during the fiasco, but no matter. After seeing that poor woman... Nothing would have gone down even if he wanted to.

"I don't think we have any records about a vigilante by your description. What's your name?" Robin questioned.

Edward was just trying to leave, but the kid seemed to be insistent.

"Not really a vigilante. Well, I guess I am— wait. By definition... Fuck," Edward mumbled his reply, looking off to the side where he planned to go.

"Then we'll just call you earth-boy or cat-boy if that's okay."

"Cat-boy—" Edward didn't know if he should be amused or offended. He snorted. "Name's Fullmetal. Now, excuse me, bird-boy, I have stuff to do." Edward said before making a run for it.

That left behind a slightly amused and tired Robin as he left to go relay his findings to Batman. All he wanted right now, though, was to get a nice shower and a taste of Alfred's cookies. Today was not a good day. If it wasn't for that guy, Fullmetal... Who would have known? Probably would have gotten out of this with a lot more than a shoulder injury.

A hand was carefully placed on his good shoulder, breaking him out of his staring contest with the general direction the guy had bolted into.

"Let's go home." Came Batman's voice, unperturbed by the commandeering persona. It was a little too early to be checking in, but he understood.

Robin nodded, pointedly not looking anywhere close to the bloodied corpse.

They had failed to save a civilian today.

Edward huffed and puffed for breath. He had made his way back to the warehouse, doing all the loops and detours necessary to make sure he wasn't followed.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

He was seen by Batman!

Not good. So not good.

So much for laying low!

Well, at least he got to save someone's life. The poor woman was a casualty, but he saved the Bat and his kid. He was too late to save the lady, but the two others lived. That has to account for some, right?

Edward crouched low, face in his hands.

He hated this. Even in a different world... He was still powerless to change the past.

No, it wasn't okay. If he had known, he would have jumped in sooner. But now there was a woman who won't be going back home today.

Edward sighed, trying to release the tension built in his frame. That was over now. It was over.

The mask was a stupid but useful idea. Inspired by those very people he sought to save, then avoid. He did what he could with what was available, a trashcan lid, which was kinda gross. He was glad to get rid of the stupid mask anyway.

He pulled out his notebook and pen and got to writing. Batman had some kind of skeleton built into his cape, and the thing itself could repel a few bullets. This was noteworthy.

He tapped his pen in thought.

"They thought I was one of them." Edward mused. "Maybe..."

"Nah."

Chapter Text

May 24th, 4:36, the Batcave.

"This kid is not making it easy."

Dick sighed, kicking his booted feet up and onto the panel of keyboards before the large screens of the bat computer, displaying various windows to blurry pictures and camera footage as the bats searched for the golden haired kid's whereabouts. So far, they had no new sightings, and the few old ones were taken at a few grocery shops with no identifiable face to put a name to. It seemed that after he'd crossed the road with them, he just vanished into thin air.

Except normal people don't do that.

"He's actually good at this." He nibbled on the string of his dark blue hoodie, eyes scanning the CCTV footage lazily.

"So, any bets on who the Fullmetal guy could be?" He swiveled his chair side to side ever so slightly.

"Feet off the computer, Dick," Bruce said, his cowl down and flecks of grass and dirt still clinging to his cape from his earlier encounter with Ivy. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, pulling out pictures from the umpteenth file that evening on a holographic folder and spreading them apart in a methodical manner, filing them into rows.

"What we do know is that he looks and acts like a teenager, he can manipulate the ground, he can fight really well, and he's a good guy. If not, at least he was pretty keen on saving our hides. We kinda do owe him for that one. Really, that was a rookie mistake." Dick drawled, absently rubbing his bandaged shoulder once he finally pulled his boots off the keyboard.

"That was two weeks ago. What we need to do now is focus and learn from our mistakes." Bruce sent a picture his way, making it pop up on the large display screen in front of Dick before he could argue.

"Super strength?" Dick questioned, looking at the rifle with the twisted barrel that he distinctly remembered the blond teen grabbing at some point during the conflict.

"As it seems. That and the yellow eyes. Pretty much cements the meta-human theory." Bruce set his jaw as he looked through more pictures.

"Hm. What do you think he's using? Zatara ruled out magic." Dick wondered.

"He said there was no magic residue on the site of the battle. But he did mention another type of residue." Bruce revealed, putting aside the other pictures once they proved useless. Dick straightened in curiousity.

"I ran all the tests." The bat walked up to the computer and opened a multitude of graphs, magnifying a couple.

"It seems to be some type of electromagnetic pulse, as well as some other type of kinetic energy that I couldn't identify. It's mostly harmless. But it's there, on the ground where he manipulated it." He pointed out, pulling up pictures of the familiar broken asphalt, as well as more items.

"And look at this." He added.

Dick gazed at the picture. At first, it wasn't noticeable due to the grittiness of the rocky texture, but then he could spot it.

There were tiny indentations in the ground, on the cat mask they'd found discarded, and on the asphalt. They were small and sparse, but awfully conspicuous with their rectangular shape once they were spotted. They were angled far too regularly to be naturally occurring.

Pretty hard to miss it once you do notice it.

"It seems whatever it is that he's doing always leaves a physical mark," Bruce stated.

"Would you look at that, we found our clue." Dick grinned at that. Now that there was more to go off of than just blurry pictures, it would be much easier to locate the general vicinity of their mystery hero.

"Yes. But that's not going to be a priority mission. I doubt he'd be causing much trouble. For now—"

"Now you get to bed, master Bruce." Alfred cut him off, appearing at the mouth of the stairs, his form ever so stiff and looming. "You do have that meeting with Mr. Park tomorrow. And Master Richard, you have an English test."

The two bats groaned as Alfred shooed them away from work and up the stairs.

June 20th, 19:00, Gotham City.

Edward ducked into a random alley. He could spy the capes fluttering up above the adjacent building, as the dark figures peered down, trying to spot him. He had been donning a disguise; he'd dyed his hair black and cloaked himself in a dark brown coat he'd snatched off someone's chair. But somehow, he kept being spotted.

The bats must have figured out how to catch his trail.

Once their dark silhouettes finally retreated into the shadows, Edward sighed and crouched down in frustration, his arms resting on his knees and his head hung low as he waited.

The bats had been onto him for a few weeks. At first, it started with a few sightings around his area two weeks ago, but then they started getting more frequent. Now he got to see them at least once every other night, staring menacingly down from their perches on the tops of buildings. He'd almost been caught two times, this being the second. Each encounter was followed by a brief chase down the grimy streets of Gotham until he could make it to a hiding spot.

Batman had stared him down before descending with his grapple gun, followed by Robin, who vainly tried to call out to him before Edward bolted and quickly changed his disguise, which led him to his current position.

Edward didn't want to be seen or spoken to, but now it was beginning to seem like he was only delaying the inevitable. Soon enough, the duo would find his little nest and he would be forced to relocate. And then the chase would start again, then again, then again...

He sighed.

He couldn't afford to keep moving for the rest of his life.

The deal with Truth was done, and Edward was certain that he wouldn't be going back. He knew searching for a way back wasn't possible, and frankly... He didn't want to unpack that baggage just yet. The chase had been keeping him busy enough that he didn't have the time to think about it.

The truth was that there was no going back this time.

Edward stood up and peeled the coat off his shoulders, folding it neatly before he placed it in the least dirty corner he could find. He clapped his hands to return his hair to normal.

He made his way back to his most recent hiding spot, an abandoned apartment in crime alley.

He climbed up the fire escape with nimble ease before alchemically undoing the seal on the window. He crept through, eyes darting back and forth to ensure no wandering eyes were prying, and then slowly lowered the dusty glass and rotting wood back into place. He turned on the light switch, eyes adjusting to the sepia tones of the beige peeling wallpaper and the yellow lightbulb. Little dust particles lifted through the air and waltzed in his vision. He set down his jacket along with his pitifully small amount of belongings, letting out a deep sigh.

Edward stretched, hearing a faint creak from his right arm.

"Need an oil change..." He muttered, yawning.

As he bent down to get his notebook, he noticed something was amiss.

Edward stiffened, his breath halting momentarily.

On top of his backpack sat a little black envelope, with the word Fullmetal written in cursive on it. He hesitantly picked it up and pried it open from its neat bat-shaped wax seal.

Fullmetal.

I do not wish you any harm, and I hope that you didn't get that impression from me and my partner. We just want to speak with you. Your identity is safe, but the Justice League is obligated to keep a record of our encounters, especially with 'specially powered' agents such as yourself. I hope you understand that.

- Batman.

Edward reread the letter. Then did that again.

The bat had somehow not only managed to track him, but also broke in to leave him a message. He was already a few steps ahead of him.

"That Bastard, son of a bitch..."

Edward had underestimated the detective. He cracked a defeated smile and covered his face with a gloved hand, trying to gather his bearings.

"So, I guess there's no point in hiding anymore..."

Edward was not going down without a fight. Batman has had him by the curlies this whole time. He was giving him a faint illusion of choice, but he knew it wasn't. Edward wasn't a stupid little lost child. No, he wasn't. Absolutely not.

He's a hero. A man of the people. A state Alchemist. He knew how strategy worked.

"They want Fullmetal..." Edward tightened his grip on the letter, his resolve strengthening. His grin turned sharp and menacing, with a promise of malice.

"Then I'll give them Fullmetal."

Chapter Text

June 22nd, 10:00, Wayne ent. Tower, Gotham.

Dick tapped a fancy pen to his chin in boredom. He'd never been a fan of the long, drawling conversations that Bruce's business partners would partake in in the name of etiquette, but it was decidedly better than being stuck at home with nothing better to do. Wally was on a family trip, and he couldn't call Clark to annoy him since the man was working. Alfred was on a much-needed vacation as well, which left only him and Bruce. The man promised to take them out for ice cream, too. But that wouldn't be until a few hours, once he was done with paperwork and pleasantries.

Well, at least Mr. Park was polite to Bruce.

Right when Dick had finally succeeded in balancing the pen on his nose, a loud commotion was heard outside of the building. A small explosion shook the air, and it seemed to be originating from the bank opposite their building.

Startled business men and CEOs rushed to the large glass windows to observe the unfolding scene, and Dick followed. A quick look confirmed his suspicion; a heist was in progress.

He exchanged glances and subtle nods with the bat. Just as he was about to make a strategic retreat to don his mask and cape, Bruce raised a halting hand. Dick followed his gaze back down to the commotion, trying to find the clue his mentor was hinting at.

Down below, as the smoke cleared and the masked criminals were making their exit, a peculiar figure appeared. The blond hair and the bright red coat contrasted greatly with the dull concrete and the fading smoke, and seemed definitely out of place in the picture. A dark metallic mask sat on his face.

"Drop your weapons." He called, hopping in front of the criminals into a wide, confident stance. They briefly halted in their steps, looking annoyed.

"Out of the way, kid. This isn't the time to play hero." One of them warned, pointing his gun at him.

He almost cackled, the movement splitting the rows of teeth in his mask to reveal a startlingly wolfish grin. If that didn't deter them, the gnarly gargoyle face was enough to make them take a few double looks. Golden eyes glimmered with mischief and the promise of pain.

"Welp, can't say I haven't warned ya." He shrugged before springing into action.

Edward jumped into the air, landing with both feet on the nearest thief's face, rendering him unconscious. Shots immediately began firing, but they were all dodged and bounced off his right arm, sending sparks flying as he dashed forward. He grabbed one barrel and twisted it, paying no mind to the heat that smoldered his glove while kicking the other gun down with his left heel. Two broken machine guns fell to the ground, followed by their owners, who were knocked head-to-head through a devastating roundhouse kick. Two other men tried to attack him from behind, but he flipped and kicked away their guns as well, before rolling, grabbing them by the collars and using the momentum to lift them over his shoulders and slam them back into the ground. The three remaining men ditched their loot and moved to grab at their gear in an attempt to stop him, but a loud echoing clap resounded before they could even get to their guns and with it the ground was animated with blue lightning, morphing the dark concrete into large arms that twisted around them and rendered them immobile.

The fight was over in less than a minute.

Dick looked up, momentarily making eye contact with Bruce. The look he was given confirmed his conclusion.

This was definitely their guy.

Reporters arrived at the scene, rushing towards Edward with their crews in tow, followed by police sirens as red and blue lights began to flash in the distance.

"Sir! Sir! You were able to single-handedly take down those criminals just now. Does that mean you're a vigilante?"

"Are you in league with Batman?"

"Are you a meta-human?"

"What was that power you just used?"

"What's your name?"

Quite a few microphones and cameras were shoved in his face, and Edward struggled to keep up with the questions, raising his hands in an attempt to calm them down.

"I'm not with Batman, I have my own brand." He grumbled. "And the name's Fullmetal." He added with determination.

The reporters' voices drowned each other out as more questions were hastily barked out in his direction. Edward began to retreat, flashing a smirk. "Sorry, I have places to be."

Edward ran off, seemingly disappearing into thin air behind a turn, and leaving the reporters in the dust.

June 25th, 13:00, Wayne Manor, Gotham City.

"Eleven appearances in three days. I gotta say, that's a record." Dick muttered, flipping through the newspaper as he munched on his sloppy sandwich. Bruce sat across from him in front of the counter with a similar dish, eating it with the same amount of elegance, or lack thereof.

"I think he's trying to make a statement." Bruce commented.

The front page of the paper read FULLMETAL, NEWEST ADDITION TO THE JUSTICE CIRCUS? in bold. Fullmetal, New Hero For The People was written on the other paper he'd read through earlier.

"Perhaps we pissed him off after that last encounter," he added.

"You don't say." Dick flipped the paper around to display what he was seeing. Batman eats batshit was emblazoned into the side of a large brick construction that held two battered looking men in stocking masks.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that.

"He's creative." He noted.

"I know, right?" Dick smiled.

"I have to admit, he's been taking the load off of Batman's shoulders. But that's not a good thing." Bruce regained his stoic expression. "Gotham isn't the place for kids to play heroes. Especially not unsupervised."

"Hey!" Dick retorted, looking offended. "You've seen the footage. This guy's not only enhanced, but he's obviously been trained too. By someone who clearly knew what they were doing." He argued.

"But he's still a child, Dick. And so are you." Bruce sounded final as he dusted the crumbs off his hands and stood to make his leave. Dick scowled, stifling his urge to mimic those words mockingly.

No, that would just prove his point.

June 25th, 17:00, Gotham City.

Edward looked down at the city from the rooftop he was occupying, silently eating a slice of pizza as he kept watch.

He understood now why the other vigilantes did this, sitting on top of buildings. It was nice up here, secluded, and high enough to give him an encompassing view of the streets under.

The vigilante gig wasn't too bad, he had to admit. He'd missed the spotlight he had back when he was the "Alchemist of the people". He'd missed doing those things to help out, make a difference in the world. This might not have been his world, but damn it, people were still people.

And of course, he missed being flashy and obnoxious.

That ought to get the bat's attention for sure.

Now that he was all over the town, it should throw them off slightly of his tracks. Can't keep up with the location of someone who keeps appearing everywhere.

But he wasn't too worried about the possibility of confrontation either, not anymore. If the bat were to catch up to him, he would have whatever kind of talk he had to offer. On Edward's terms, of course. The bat might try to appear intimidating and impenetrable, but Edward stared god in the face and called himself an atheist before.

The pizzeria beneath him had offered him a couple of free slices for his heroic work, so that was also a plus.

For now, he just had to busy himself with causing as big a ruckus as possible.

June 30th, 4:00, port Adams, Gotham City.

Edward stood by the docks, enjoying the early dawn breeze and the fresh smell of morning and brine. A group of unconscious bodies sat a few feet away, bound and secured in concrete, while their stolen treasure of diamonds and gold was untouched within its suitcase, just far from their reach. He held that day's mask in his hands, absently running a thumb along the ridges and spikes.

He watched closely, mesmerized by the ocean. He wondered vaguely if Alphonse got to see the ocean, too. Maybe after everything was over, and he regained his strength, Al would take Winry and granny and they'd travel to new places, finally look at the sea for the first time beyond the borders of Amestris.

Maybe they'd think about him, wondering if he got to see it too.

Edward smiled. It was small and bittersweet, and it carried a level of uncertainty.

He was far, far from Amestris.

"Fullmetal."

Edward was suddenly reminded of a certain black haired Colonel. The voice was similar, but far too foreign. It spoke a language that wasn't from home.

"Ah, took you long enough." He sassed, donning his mask before turning around to look at the tall, caped Batman. "I hope the poo jokes didn't get to ya."

The lenses of the cowl narrowed, but his face remained stiff.

"I have to admit, they were... Entertaining." Batman growled, his frankness surprising Ed. "But that's not what I'm here to discuss."

"Course not." Edward commented. "So, what is it you wanted to talk about so bad?" He crossed his arms, feigning annoyance.

Edward's pose was relaxed and nonchalant, but Bruce could tell it was an act. His shoulders were stiff, and his stance a bit too wide. If he weren't so well-trained, Bruce might not have picked up on it.

"Your status. I need to know what you're doing here and what your motives are."

"I thought I made my motives clear?" Edward pointed a thumb in the general direction the unconscious thugs were piled in.

"Humour me." Batman added in a serious tone.

"Fine... How about this: law of equivalent exchange. Info for info, if you want me to answer a question, you have to answer one of mine. Otherwise, I won't say shit." He proposed.

Batman was silent for a little while. He'd heard of similar laws and propositions before, but never laid out so bluntly. The kid had quite the gall, too. Very few could stare down the bat without quaking in their boots from his glare, but it seemed this one could return it with the same intensity. It said a lot about his character.

Bruce wasn't sure if that was a positive thing.

"Alright. I agree to your terms." He finally voiced his answer. Fullmetal seemed pleased.

"Good. You can go ahead."

"What are your motives?"

"Helping people, changing the world... Getting on your nerves." Edward snarked. "Why the bat theme?"

"... Overcoming a past fear. Embodying what I feared, once." He growled. Edward's lip twitched.

"What brought you to Gotham?"

The teenager seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"A deal. A deal of interdimensional proportions. I didn't choose which place I ended up."

He seemed sincere enough, almost apologetic. His body language didn't hint at deception, only secrecy. Bruce set his jaw, going over the information in his head.

This posed more questions than it left answered.

"What are the components of your suit?"

"Micro weave of Kevlar, carbon fiber, and Nomex. Titanium plates for the armor." Batman decided to answer, leaving the question of interdimensional travel behind. Nobody could replicate the design anyway, given the technology used. "What kind of powers do you possess?"

"None, I'm using Alchemy." Edward replied quickly, "I'm not one of you supers or whatever the hell you call yourselves. I'm a scientist." He seemed passionate about that particular subject, even if it made no sense to Bruce, given that alchemy was supposed to be a dead art. A dead magical art.

"In that case, neither am I." Batman revealed. Edward seemed almost impressed.

"Awesome." He muttered under his breath in awe, and the bat pretended not to hear that.

"This is enough, for now." Bruce decided to end his questionnaire, quelling his need for information. Answers always came to him, given time.

And he wasn't in the mood to be asked about his secret identity.

"If you are in need of any assistance, call this number. And try to stay out of trouble." The bat extended a black card to him, with a simple number written on the back. Edward stared at it cautiously before tentatively taking it. He scanned it briefly, taking note of the gilded lettering.

"Wait, that's it?— And, he's gone." Edward groaned, looking at the spot Batman had been standing in not a moment ago. "That wasn't creepy at all," He commented absently, rereading the card.

Police sirens started to blare in the distance, reminding Edward of their existence.

"Oh, that's my sign to go. So long, fellas." He saluted briefly to the bound criminals before pocketing the card and jogging away, making his way out of the scene before the police arrived.

Chapter Text

June 29th, 16:00, Central City.

Dick had his chin propped up on his fist as he silently watched the TV across the booth through the dark lenses of his sunglasses. He sat in relative silence, observing the happenings on the small square screen as Wally dug away at his fries and a tall chocolate milkshake across from him.

"Rob? What's up?" Wally questioned, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Dick nodded towards the screen, where the muted video tape looped behind the reporter, displaying an earlier fight between Fullmetal and the Riddler, of all people. The masked blond efficiently dodged the attacks and delivered a devastating right hook, knocking out the villain immediately.

"Just that guy, Fullmetal. He's been causing quite a ruckus lately." Dick said, pulling out the straw to lick at the drooping whip cream on his vanilla milkshake.

"Same guy you n' B have been following?" Wally asked.

"Yup," Dick replied, popping the p for emphasis. Wally glanced at the screen, watching the red blur zoom across the screen before someone changed the channel to display a soccer match.

"I wouldn't be too worried. I heard he calls himself an "Alchemist", so I bet it's all smoke and mirrors." Wally muttered, dipping a fry in his milkshake. "He'll fizzle out eventually." He nodded to himself.

"I'm pretty sure whatever he's doing is legit." Dick countered, slinging an arm over the booth chair. "Seen it up close. But B still hasn't figured out what this alchemy is, though." He admitted.

"I'm telling ya, man. Smoke and mirrors!" Wally insisted, food flying out of his mouth.

Dick shrugged, taking a sip of his half melted shake. "Whatever it is, he's gathering a whole lot of attention for a non-league-affiliated vigilante."

"Yeah..." Wally thought about it for a little bit, his eyes narrowing. "Well, that's none of my business." He finished up the last of his milkshake. "You gonna finish that?" He nodded towards Dick's overflowing glass and the latter wordlessly pushed it towards his friend, chuckling.

"We should hit the arcade after this. I haven't played one of those games in a while." Dick suggested.

"Sure. I'll totally be kicking your ass, though." Wally happily obliged.

July 4th, 21:37, Gotham.

Edward grunted as he evaded the smoke pellets that Scarecrow continued to throw at him. He'd put a filter inside his mask, but it was rudimentary at best, and he was already starting to see figures of failed homunculi and bloodied white fur in the edges of his vision. It made his heart pound harder within his chest, a painful rush of dread and despair making his limbs cold and numb and slightly more sluggish with every passing second.

The villain cackled, uttering an ugly screeching noise that only aggravated him more.

"You can't keep running from your truth, Fullmetal! It's only a matter of time." He exclaimed, throwing more smoke pellets. His gnarled scarecrow mask started to warp into a face all too familiar, and Edward felt his teeth grinding at the audacity of the imitation.

"You weren't there, brother. You left. You left!" He started to say, his voice echoing like he was still trapped in the metal despite his emaciated body standing in plain sight.

"You weren't there and now we're—"

Edward's right fist swiftly connected with Scarecrow's nose, shattering the illusion with a crunch of bone and cartilage as it gave under the cold, unyielding metal.

" Shut the fuck up. " Edward ground out through his teeth, using all of his will to keep himself restrained from beating the actual life out of the low criminal. "Cheap, imitating son of a bitch.." he growled, delivering a single kick to the man's side, making him yelp out in pain.

"You're lucky that was my mind playing with me, so I'm not taking it personally. Do that again and I'll break your fucking legs." He swore, pointing a threatening index finger at the quivering scarecrow, and then proceeded to lift him by the collar and drag him to a nearby wall, where he stuck him using alchemical bonds.

Once he was done, Edward booked it out of the scene. He made it to one of his safe spots, a warehouse nearby, before collapsing to a crouch and quickly discarding his mask.

"Bastard thinks he could just..." He grumbled, panting as he tried vainly to calm his breath.

"Carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen— fuck," he muttered, sitting down and riding out the last of the lingering effects of the toxin as his body shuddered in an effort to reject it.

After what felt like a few long agonizing minutes, he finally started to regain a calmer state of mind. He sat up, stretched, and dusted off his coat.

He was not going to think about it. Nope. Deep into the recesses of his mind will that dilemma go. If some of it lingered, that was tomorrow's problem.

Higher-tier villains had been appearing a lot more recently. Edward thought he might just be getting more lucky, but it was definitely noteworthy. First it was that Firefly guy, then some jackass called the Riddler. And now, most recently, Scarecrow. He'd figured out very recently through the library's archive that they were some of the slightly more well-known names within Gotham's twisted collection of the criminally insane.

And the crimes they were committing seemed deliberate, as well. Were they trying to draw out Batman? If so, today was a complete failure. The bat was busy doing some kind of publicity stunt at DC with the rest of the league and their apprentices. The villain had to be downright stupid to try to pull that off today.

Well, he was technically out of his mind...

Edward tsked, kicking the dirt with his feet. He looked at his mask, each day a new gnarly design. He remembered the way people back home used to say he had a tacky sense of style.. The people of Gotham, as grim and dark as they were, would probably still agree.

Whatever, he was cool. Not his fault people didn't share that sentiment.

He pulled himself together, deciding it was time to break into a Wayne Lab. He had to make an antidote and— well, if there was some material missing from the billionaire's establishment, nobody would cry about it.

Somewhere in a dark, vast room stood a tall masked figure. Around it were massive screens displaying static in the vague shapes of human forms.

"And what of the new interest?" One of the silhouettes inquired.

"It seems he is very capable of holding up his own." The masked man replied, "he already took down the three we sent. Should we continue to test his limits?"

"Yes, but try to keep this period brief. We wouldn't want the league to get hold of him before we do." Another figure piped up.

"Of course."

"We'll see what that little Alchemist is capable of."

"If he is worthy, he will see the light."

July 10th, 19:48, Gotham.

Batman stood tall above the ledge of the building, his shadowy cape billowing in the dark. Large stone gargoyles stood on either side of him, looking almost as menacing. He held a pair of binoculars in his hand, observing the battle waging beneath in the dimly lit street.

"Shouldn't we intervene?" Green Arrow leaned against the ledge a few meters away, elbow on his knee as he watched as well. He had an eyebrow raised as he turned towards Batman.

"... No. Not yet." Batman replied, focused.

Down below, under the buzzing yellow lamp light, Edward ducked and rolled away from an incoming rain of bullets landing where his feet were just planted. An eerie clap echoed off the atmosphere, and a wall of concrete raised itself from the ground with a crackle of blue electricity. Edward ducked behind his wall, quickly drawing a hasty circle on the floor as he recited a few elements, pulling vials out of the numerous utility belts he'd recently added to his outfit.

"Potassium perchlorate, magnesium—" a bullet tore a chunk off of his wall, right by his ear. "And aluminum." He quickly gathered his wits and clapped.

Two-Face and his gang couldn't react quickly enough once the grenade was tossed over the wall and landed in front of them. "Run!" Someone screamed, but before they could retreat, the ball detonated into an ear-ripping sound and a blinding white light.

Batman and Green Arrow shielded their eyes from the flashbang. Within a few seconds, the light and smoke dissipated to reveal most of the Two-Face goons immobilized or knocked out. The man himself seemed enraged as he rapidly tried to blink away the haze, enough that he flipped his coin, probably between kill and no kill given his expression, but before it could land, he got clotheslined and knocked back hard, and concrete came to life to engulf his torso.

"Why you—"

"Save it, jackass. I wanna know who's sicking their dogs on me." Edward growled, leaning down to glare directly into the face of the criminal.

"Hah, as if. You're not nearly important enough to get the big dogs after you, hotshot. This was just a chance meeting." He spat back.

Edward scowled before he huffed and picked up the coin that was sitting by Harvey's head. "Let's have it your way, shall we?" He spat sardonically. "Heads, you spill, I don't beat the shit out of you. Tails, you don't, and I do beat the shit out of you."

"You're bluffing." He challenged. Edward glared again before he flipped the coin. Harvey watched silently, anticipating the coin's decision.

Edward caught it in his fist, but before he could reveal it, the shadowy figure of Batman landed nearby with a subtle woosh of his cape.

"Fullmetal."

Edward glared up at the bat, looking weary. He silently tossed the coin to Batman, prompting the Dark Knight to glance down at the face etched into its surface.

"We can take it from here."

"Fine. Just stay out of my way." He said, golden eyes piercing with a searing sort of intensity behind the carved snarling lion mask. He turned towards the building where Green Arrow was still perched, making eye contact with the man. "And him too," He added. "I don't want the league on my tail on top of whatever the hell this is. I'm already pissed off."

Green Arrow was slightly disturbed at how easily Fullmetal had clocked his location. Batman kept his stare as emotionless as ever.

"Alright." He said, his tone even.

"Good." And with that, Edward walked off.

Green Arrow descended from the building, landing lightly next to Batman.

"Now we know for sure that Fullmetal is being targeted. The question that remains is by whom."

"Someone big enough to get the likes of Two-Face out of jail to do their dirty work, that much is obvious."

Batman scratched his chin, ignoring Green Arrow's slight shrug. He turned towards Harvey Dent, who was attempting to wriggle out of his bonds to no avail. The concrete seemed to be more unforgiving than usual, if that was even possible.

"Get me out of here... Batman!" He choked out.

"The police will get you out of there." Batman supplied, before firing off his grapple gun and flying away.

"You heard the guy." Green Arrow fired off his own line and jumped away right as police cars rounded the corner.

"So, are we really going to go hands-off with that kid?"

"We won't interfere with him personally, but we still are going to conduct our parallel investigation."

"Huh. Of course, “ we ” will." Green Arrow muttered.

July 16th, 20:22, Gotham.

Edward barely dodged the literal blade of grass that flew right over his face, nicking just a bit of his hair. He clapped his hands and connected them to the large vine, alchemically sapping the moisture from within the plant and rendering it withered and useless. Poison Ivy emerged from the clouds of steam, her bright ginger mane of hair disheveled. She was looking pissed off to all hell.

"What have you done?" She screamed, sending more of her plant spawn towards the Alchemist.

"How about you leave me alone and I'll stop killing your plants, you crazy bitch!" He yelled back, dodging the slew of her attacks that followed his retort and withering some of the vines in retaliation. A thick whip of plant connected to his side, sending him rolling on the ground. He faltered momentarily as he struggled to catch his breath, before clapping and erecting a wall of asphalt to counter against the thick whips of plant that came cracking down.

"You better be damn useful." She growled, extending a hand to command her flowers to emerge from the ground underneath him.

Edward yelped at being tossed in the air, quickly transmuting his arm blade into life and cutting through the vines that were careening towards him. He pushed off of a few of the large trunks of tree and bush that were trying to get a hold of him, running along the rapidly extending poles of vegetation towards Ivy.

The villain continued to send more and more plants until one of her vines caught onto Edward's leg and tipped his balance enough to send him toppling. Ivy found this as the perfect opportunity to wrap him up in her green vices, tightening his arms to his sides and rendering him immobile.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, trying to wriggle out of her grasp. His right arm groaned out a creak under the pressure, and the metal seams dug painfully into his bruised ribs.

She approached slowly, her gaze high as she stared him down with distaste. "Just a teenager." She noted, "You're lucky I finally caught you. I don't think others would have been as merciful." She tutted.

Edward glared at her from behind his gargoyle mask.

"Your little tricks won't work unless you clap, right?" She chuckled, "amateur."

"Well shit, you caught me." He sighed, stilling his feeble attempts to wiggle out of it.

Sirens blared in the background, and he took a second to glance at the destruction that her rampage had caused. Out of all the people sent after him, it seemed she was the boldest so far. The road was completely demolished, and cars were overturned and crushed under massive roots and rubble from the crashing buildings. He was thankful that he'd stalled long enough for people there to evacuate the area, but that had cost him getting tired and being caught.

"So, what's your deal?" He questioned, an eyebrow raised.

The redhead remained silent as she left the scene with him in tow, her massive plant appendages propelling her through the city. Edward resisted the urge to shudder.

"You know, for what it's worth, you do have a noble cause. It's just the "using people as fertilizer" part that's bothering me." He sassed, the air whipping his hair into his mask with a soft rattle. "I mean, I do love plants. Just not when they're crawling into my orifices. I am a kid after all, which makes it kinda creepy—"

"Won't you shut the fuck up?!" She snapped, tightening the vine around him.

He grinned maliciously.

"Okay!" Blue lightning crackled to life around them, emanating from the circle he'd scratched into the flesh of the plant that squeezed him. Explosions promptly came to life, bursting the plant from inside out, and freeing him.

Ivy raised her arms to protect herself, toppling and falling back from the force of the explosion. Edward fell into a roll, absorbing the impact. Ivy angrily lifted her head, her face twisted into an ugly mask of wrath. She looked around for him, trying to find him.

"You little shit!" She roared, plants bursting from the ground around her and lifting her higher above the ground.

“I’m not little!” He screamed, charging at her from the back and landing a left kick to her middle, punting her out of the air and into the ground again. She grunted, raising a hand and commanding the greenery to grab him by the arms.

The plants were successful in restraining him momentarily, but he was able to cut himself out of them before he was completely immobilized.

He made a mad dash through her feeble attempts at stopping him, cutting through the vines until he could land a finishing kick to her head, knocking her out. That seemed to effectively stop the greenery from attacking him as what was left of it writhed and slithered around blindly.

"Ugh." He groaned, falling on his ass in exhaustion. This fight came very close, and it might as well have gotten him if it wasn't for the mental warfare and the fact that whoever was behind this didn't have all of the facts yet.

Truth be told, he got lucky.

He wasn't sure he could keep getting lucky.

Chapter Text

July 22nd, 22:12

The bioship sailed the foggy winds of the Caribbean Sea, silently gliding over the clouds as the team members each sat in a charged sort of silence. Batman's debrief was burned into their minds, and everyone was as alert as could be, gnawing on their cheeks and bouncing their legs in anticipation. 

Tonight would be their first real mission.

The island of Santa Prisca was covered in thick greenery that was shrouded in darkness and fog. Everyone watched in anticipation as it approached over the horizon. The team looked on, trying to balance the mix of excitement and nervousness that threatened to bubble over them, grounding themselves with the reassurance that they'd done this all before. Yeah, sure, almost everyone had already. But this? This was different. There was no adult supervision. This wasn't a spontaneous burst of rebellion turned into a clandestine mission. This? This was the real deal.

"We're approaching Santa Prisca," M'gann announced as she steered the ship forward. "Drop zone A in thirty."

Kaldur stood at the cue, perhaps a little too fast, his suit darkening into its stealth mode. "Ready."

"Putting bioship in camouflage mode."

The invisible ship lowered itself closer to the water, and Kaldur gracefully jumped out of the hatch and into the sea, submerging into a swim. The water welcomed him like an old friend, propelling him forward towards his target. He easily found the border ropes and cut through them with his blades, reaching the beach in record time. He proceeded to put the external drive into the sensors perched perfectly by the palm trees and bushes nearby.

"Heat and motion sensors are patched. Data's now in a continuous loop." He supplied into his comm, "move in."

The ship flew into the area, indistinguishable from the night sky above, as it hovered in quietly and covertly.

"Drop zone B."

Everyone stood, getting ready to go down. Lines were lowered, and Robin and Kid Flash attached them to their belts, the latter activating his suit's newly updated stealth mode.

"How cool is this?" He bragged to Miss Martian, trying to impress her.

"Very impressive." She said, commanding her biosuit to morph into its darker version.

"Uh… that works too." He replied. "Hey, supey! Not too late to put on the new stealth tech ."

"No capes, no tights." Superboy crossed his arms, jaw tight. "No offense."

"It totally works for you," M'gann said, a faraway look in her eyes as she cupped her cheek. "I-in that you can totally do good work in those clothes!" She clarified with an awkward thumbs up, but nobody was buying it. Her slip-up was followed by her burying her face in her hood and disappearing in embarrassment when Superboy didn't dignify her with a reply. Well, at least nobody was laughing.

The ship's hatch opened for them to exit, and M'gann floated down to the ground, followed closely by Robin and Kid Flash on their lines. They touched down briefly before having to jump out of the way as Superboy dropped, his impact leaving a small crater and kicking up a cloud of dust to everyone's annoyance.

"Knew I didn't need a line." He commented, a small satisfied smirk on his face.

"And yet creating a seismic event may not have helped us much with the covert." Robin chastised, highlighted by the screeching of birds fleeing the area.

"Aqualand, drop B is go." Miss Martian supplied into her comm after evaluating the area from a height.

"Head for the factory. I'll track your GPS and rendezvous ASAP."

"Roger that." Robin closed the maps on his hologram glove and ran off, followed closely by everyone, into the muddy, humid forest of the island.

Whatever it was that the bad guys were cooking, they were getting to the bottom of it.

July 22nd, 3:47

Edward donned his mask, the metallic lion face he'd recently settled on with his usual tacky artistic sense molded to fit around his face and equipped with a slightly better filtration system than the last. The snarling lion was a mockery of his internal sense of doom as he ran along the alley, ducking behind every shadow and cranny he could find like prey hiding from an invisible predator.

He was being hunted, and he knew it.

It almost reminded him of his first encounter with Scar. It was one of the closest instances he'd ever felt himself getting to death, burning the awareness of his mortality deep into his bones like a red-hot lifelong lesson. It wasn't the last and definitely not the worst— but damn it, did this remind him of it. Because when the throwing disk nicked his ear a few moments ago, he knew this one meant business.

The last few days were filled with nothing but encounter after encounter with villains way too out of the norm to be chasing him. It was too blatant . Because of this, he was forced to narrow his vigilante appearances down to none. Any sighting was enough to get some other douchebag after his ass, and he was getting tired, and out of luck. Each villain was progressively harder to beat, so he had to lay low again. He barely got time to eat or sleep, forced to abandon his hideout after it was literally blown to bits. And thank fuck he wasn't inside it.

He also had to switch back to a black coat, which wasn't exactly ideal, but he'd rather not get jumped for wearing a red traffic light, thank you very much.

Well, at least he tried not to get jumped. Because right now he was about ninety nine point nine nine percent sure that some blond douchebag in a hockey mask was the culprit behind the disks. And the javelins. And the bear traps. And the baseball bat he almost took to the head. Also, totally unoriginal!

The new asshole wasn't a super, at least he didn't seem like it. Which was not a good sign because so far, the presence of a superpower meant that its owner tended to rely on it. Non-supers who liked to fuck around were wild cards at best, completely unhinged at worst. Exhibit A: the Joker. Edward would rather not fuck with someone like the joker, not like this. Not alone.

But it seemed this new addition to the roster of hounds never ran out of weapons to use as he jumped from roof to roof, trying to shoot at him with javelins of all things. He could dodge, but it was hard to run and look up at the same time, so a few came too close for comfort. 

Edward was getting tired, though. This was the third day that the same guy was after him. He didn't sleep for two nights in a row, and part of him wondered how the fuck this guy was still going relentlessly after him. Maybe the non-super theory was wrong, and the guy was just a resilient type of mutant. Maybe he had accomplices who dressed like him to mess with Edward mentally. It didn't matter. He was tired, and he needed to end this.

Edward stopped once he reached the shore, the grimy docks of the Gotham harbor crunching faintly under his boots. He stood his ground, listening in on the man as he dropped from whatever container or warehouse he was shadowing him on.

"Didn't take you for the type to give up so quickly, Fullmetal." The guy spoke with a gravelly tone, spinning a steel ball and chain in his hand as he circled around like a lion in a ring.

"Not a fucking chance. I'm done running. Time to end this like men." Edward challenged, widening his stance, dropping into a combative pose with his fist drawn back and his hand outstretched.

His opponent chuckled, halting his movement to assess the situation. "Wouldn't have expected any less. Alright, kid," he said, punctuating his words with a palm to the steel ball, "so be it."

They didn't waste a second to charge forward, Edward ducking the dangerously heavy ball to try and land a dirty kick to the man's shins, only for the latter to dodge him easily and land a horse kick of his own to Edward's back, sending him tumbling forward. It wasn't enough to knock all the wind out of him, but damn it it hurt.

Edward regained his footing and went for another kick, getting his leg easily caught in the man's hand, but he quickly caught on and used the grip to push himself higher and get a hit to the man's head. He was released before he got to land it, though.

"I see you've been trained well." He commented, twisting the chain around his gloved fist as he stared down the smaller masked blond with a growl. "Too bad. Playtime's over."

The mercenary then launched a rapid-fire attack at Edward, his hits and jabs fast enough to have him almost faltering and powerful enough that they had Ed scared he'd get knocked clean out if he so much as sustained one of them. He clapped, summoning his arm blade, and deflected the steel ball with it, sending bright sparks flying around them with each contact. Every impact was loud and strong enough to send him a little off balance.

Edward cursed under his breath at the sheer speed of the guy. It probably rivaled Scar's, except with weapons to boot. Speaking of, he had to do something about that.

Edward quickly clapped, getting clipped in the shoulder as he did so, and touched the steel ball, disintegrating it into little metal flakes and pieces. The loss was enough of a disorienting change to send the bulky man reeling back, a chance that Edward took to land a few jabs and a shallow slash across the guy's arm.

"Not bad, not bad at all." He commented once he was able to roll a few paces away. Edward glared at him from behind the mask, panting quietly. That hit had gotten him in the socket. It fucking hurt. "We can really use an asset like you."

"Who the fuck is 'we' and what the hell do you want from me?" Edward demanded, getting pretty frustrated with all the chasing and the bullshit he'd been dealing with lately. He was pretty sure that this wouldn't end unless he nipped this issue in the bud, and he was nowhere near knowing where the bush even started.

"You have to see the light. Only then will you understand ." Was the cryptic reply. It was wearing on Edward's nerves.

"I'm not in the mood for a fucking riddle— I've already had my share with that idiot with the question marks on his ass. Now answer the damn question."

The man chuckled, narrowing his eyes behind the mask and adjusting his stance. "If you want answers, you're going to have to either give up and come quietly or beat them out of me, kid."

That sent Edward charging forward with a frustrated growl, fighting with the speed of his renewed vigour. It was enough of a catalyst for him to forget some of his exhaustion, the adrenaline doing just enough to keep him alert to dodge the mercenary's ruthless attacks.

This was going to be a long fucking day.

July 22nd, 23:02

Robin pulled up the holographic screen from his glove, activating the map. Several red dots appeared around them, seemingly surrounding both sides of the path they were taking.

Shit, it seemed they had company.

Superboy halted in his steps, going rigid for a brief moment.

"Did you hear that?" He whispered-shouted, his eyes darting around suspiciously.

"Uh, no." Was Kid Flash's quick reply. "Wait. Is this a super-hearing thing?" He said, pausing his steps to look back at him.

"You do have great ears." Miss Martian added dreamily from his side.

"Okay, Rob. Now what?" Kid Flash turned back around only to find the guy had gone and done one of his disappearing acts. " Man, I hate it when he does that."

"Superboy, kid, switch to infrared. See if you're being tracked." Aqualad suggested through the comms.

Kid Flash silently put down his goggles, switching on the thermal mode. Yeah, sure, the guy wasn't the boss of him, but it was a pretty good idea.

He looked around briefly before catching a group of shiny spots in the corner of his vision, walking in a group behind the thick trees.

"Got a squad of armed bozos incoming."

"Two squads." Superboy corrected. "But they'll meet each other before they find us."

As if on cue, fire started being exchanged between them, drowning out the ambiance of the forest with a staccato of gunshots.

"No super-hearing required now!" Kid Flash said.

"Swing wide, steer clear!" Aqualad ordered, but his warnings were unheeded by Kid Flash's dismissive "yeah yeah— just as soon as I find Rob—" as he hopped over the log they were ducking behind and into the muddy forest floors before the others could stop him.

Superboy and Miss Martian watched on as Kid Flash tripped on his feet in the mud, his momentum propelling him into a slide right out of his turn and into an incline in the middle of the trees, that sent him careening straight towards the clearing between the two enemy squadrons and prompting them to halt their fire. He regained his balance once the ground was level and rolled into a crouch, only to come face to face with— Bane?

Ah. Dang it.

"So much for the stealthy ." He groaned, ducking and rolling away from gunshots fired at him from both directions, seemingly his presence being enough of a distraction from their previous squabble. Enemy of my enemy and all that.

Bane chased him with his aim, his machine gun firing relentlessly after the speedster until he got punched away by Superboy, forcing him to drop the weapon as the force of the hit propelled them both sideways. It was enough of an opportunity for the criminal to flip around and tackle the teenager, forcing him into an arm lock, but it was short-lived once Superboy forced himself out of it, grabbing him by the tank top and flinging him violently into a tree.

Kid Flash weaved through the bullets, giving enough of a distraction for Robin to descend from the trees and kick one of them down and uppercut and roundhouse the other.

"What is wrong with you guys? Remember, covert? Why didn't you follow my lead? Vanish into the jungle?" He chastised.

"That's what you were doing?" Kid Flash replied incredulously as he dispatched some other guy. "Way to fill us in. We're not mind readers, you know!" He paused as Miss Martian flung a guy at the tree behind him with her telekinesis, rendering him unconscious. "Or… I'm not, anyway."

"You told me I could only read the bad guy's mind." Miss Martian retorted.

Robin heard muddy footsteps retreating into the forest and readied a batarang to use, only for Aqualad to appear and zap the bad guy into unconsciousness.

Welp, that's all of them down.

July 22nd, 4:56

Edward's vision swam as he heaved each breath, whipping the blood off the gash in his sleeve. The masked mercenary watched him from afar, rising to his feet and dusting his shirt off. He looked slightly better than Edward did, which wasn't exactly the best state to be in. Ed was pretty sure there was blood collecting in his mouth.

The joints of his arm groaned slightly as he moved to a different fighting stance, blade chipped but still glinting in the dim light of dawn as it approached. The pier was pretty much defaced from the repeated transmutations as their fight intensified, which wasn't exactly a good thing. They were standing over water, and it was the only thing holding them up. There were some ships behind him, which was good in case he needed to escape temporarily, but bad in the grand scheme of things. Automail wasn't buoyant, regardless of how much lighter Winry had made it. Her craftsmanship was immaculate, but she couldn't work miracles. This issue had greatly limited what he could do with his environment.

The masked blond man twisted his javelin in his hand, daring Edward to make the first move. He was frankly afraid to do it. This wasn't good. He needed to end this quickly, make use of what he could as efficiently as possible.

Edward clapped his hands, retracting the arm blade and busting out spikes in his knuckles instead. They burst out of his glove, probably poking holes in the fabric, but that was the least of his concerns. He pulled a few vials out of his belt and clapped again, transmuting them into a sort of grenade that he tossed toward his opponent. The man took a step back before the thing exploded into a thick cloud of smoke, obstructing his vision.

The man raised his weapon, his guard up, and watched carefully with his ears tuned in. There were a few random sparks of a transmutation coming from random directions, and he followed them carefully until he could pinpoint exactly where the kid would try to jump him. He turned at the fraction of a second it took to tackle the blur that was speeding towards him from behind, pinning it to the ground.

Only problem, it was a dummy in a black coat.

"Gotcha." The mercenary wasn't quick enough to dodge the real attack, the kick going straight into his side and almost punting him off the dock. He dangled off the edge for a second before regaining his bearings.

"Smart kid." He growled, sending a few of his disks into the cloud of smoke each time he heard a spark. Multiple shadows appeared, and he tried to aim for all of them, the dummies crumbling to the ground once he got a hit in. It was enough of a distraction for the vigilante to land quite a few critical hits, the last kick sending him tumbling to the floor.

"Who's sending you?" Fullmetal demanded, tackling him to the floor. The dock creaked under the weight of his attack.

"You're gonna have to try harder, kid." This frustrated Edward into dishing out a right hook, denting the mercenary's mask. "Spit it out, asshole!" This only made the man under him chuckle before violently headbutting him, their masks clanging on impact.

"Motherfucker—" Edward had had just about enough of this shit. He delivered punch after punch, getting worse each time the guy tried to roll them around, going for a kick straight into the family jewels when that happened.

"Who. The fuck . Is— agh!" Edward halted, his hand shakily grabbing the dart that lodged itself into his neck out of nowhere. Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

He looked down at it, his vision blurring and his limbs going numb and sluggish. "Damn. You… fucking… Bastar—" he slumped forward unconscious.

"Took you long enough," Sportsmaster commented, tossing the unconscious body off of him.

"Damn kid better be useful."

July 22nd, 23:34

"I recognize those uniforms. They belong to the cult of the Kobra." Robin noted, nodding to the criminals they tied to the tree and their peculiar robes.

"I am certain Batman would have mentioned it if he knew a dangerous extremist was running Santa Prisca's Venom operation," Kaldur commented, his arms crossed.

"Agreed. And since there's clearly no love lost between the cultists and those goons, I'm betting Kobra came in and tossed them out. That's why normal supply lines have been cut off."

"We get it." Came Kid Flash's interjection, "Kobra wanted super-cultists, mystery solved. Radio Bats and we'll be home in time for—"

"These cultists aren't on venom," Robin cut him off, "Kobra's hoarding this stuff. We don't leave. Not until I know why."

"Until you know why?"

"This team needs a leader."

"And it's you? Dude, you're a thirteen-year-old kid, who ducked out on us without a word ."

Robin laughed dryly. "And you're a mature fifteen? You blew our cover the first chance you got!"

The rest of the team watched on as the two had their little argument.

"Don't you wanna lead?" Miss Martian questioned, turning to Superboy. The latter shook his head with a scoff.

"You?" He asked back. She raised her hands in refusal, answering with a defeated tone, "After the Mr Twister fiasco?"

"You did alright." He smiled.

Bane and his gang members scoffed quietly as they watched the scene unfold in front of them. Superboy was able to catch some of their conversation, filing it away for later.

"You're not Batman!" Kid Flash yelled.

"Closest thing we've got!" Robin yelled back.

Bane laughed in amusement, causing them to pause.

"Such clever niños. But you only know half the story. Let me show you the rest, get you into the factory, via my secret entrance."

They gathered around the tied-up Bane, listening to his proposal with varying degrees of distrust.

"There is a secret entrance, but he's also hiding something." Miss Martian crouched closer, activating her telepathy to try and get into his mind.

"Uh uh uh, chika. Bane is not that easy." He grinned.

"Ugh, he's mentally reciting football scores en español." She frowned, "This could take a while."

"It's not complicated; the enemy of my enemy is my friend." He suggested. The irony.

The team looked at each other, gauging what to do next with the guy. They could go for the other option, try and figure a way in themselves, but that would take a while, and time was of the essence. They had to proceed with caution.

July 22nd, 22:30

Edward came around to a disorienting feeling. It was like he was moving, turning in some kind of vehicle. He couldn't open his eyes against the pounding headache, the winds whipping from all directions with a deafening loud noise. He felt his hair in his mouth, probably from the breeze that made it in, and it tasted like iron and rust. Dry blood. He tried to open his eyes but halted at the onslaught of dust and artificial light violating his corneas.

He could vaguely hear a voice in the distance, relaying some boring information or something to that effect.

Light. Island. Operation. Serum.

"I'm approaching the island."

Ah, must be a flying vehicle of some sort.

He did an experimental tug at his limbs, trying to gauge what kind of restraints he was in. His arms wouldn't budge, tied up and kept apart with something that felt like chains above his head, accounting for the strain in his shoulders. Just how long was he out? Hours, by the feel of it. His feet were faring slightly better, unrestrained but sore from being splayed on the hard metal floor for god knows how long.

Shit, at least he got to catch up on a few hours of sleep. That had to count for something.

He noticed with dismay that his face felt bare. Shit. Now they've seen his face.

Edward had to think of a plan. He had to get out of this predicament somehow. He was in an unfamiliar world, but he was still the youngest state alchemist in Amestris. He was still the guy who faced the Truth and came out of it alive. He couldn't let this be the way he went down.

Well, for now, all he could do was sit and think. Panicking never helped.

July 23rd, 00:27

Robin stared down from their vantage point through his binoculars, watching as Kobra's men wheeled out boxes and boxes full of god knows what from the factory and guarding them with guns.

"Look at all that product. A buy is going down, but if Kobra's not selling to the usual suspects, then—"

"We need to identify that buyer." Aqualad cut in.

"Just what I was thinking." Kid Flash added.

"Yeah. You're the thinker." Robin sassed.

"Sarcasm? Dude." Kid Flash said, "A real leader would focus on getting answers."

Bane moved aside a large boulder that was concealing the entrance of what looked like an abandoned mine.

"Answers," he said, dusting off his hands, "are this way."

The team gathered around the tunnel, watching as Bane advanced first. They looked at each other, nodded, and walked in.

The place was dimly lit, with little yellow lanterns perched up on the lines in the walls and giving just enough light for someone to pretend the ground wasn't occasionally moving. It wasn't much better than the muddy, humid forest, but at least it was dry, mostly.

The team quietly advanced, following Bane until they all got to a red gate that looked awfully out of place with how advanced its technology seemed. He pressed a button with his thumb, possibly a fingerprint scanner, and it was enough for the gate to open up and reveal another tunnel.

"Bingo." Kid Flash whispered.

"We're not there yet." Robin cut him off.

"We've advanced more than halfway. Stop being such a contrarian."

"If you two won't shut up—"

"You'll what, weld our mouths shut with your laser beam eyes?" Kid Flash challenged.

Superboy growled angrily, stopping when Miss Martian put a hand on his shoulder.

Bane chuckled at the display. He didn't need to say a single word.

"Guys. We need to focus. Every time we get mad at each other, it's time wasted." Kaldur cut in, his arms crossed.

"He's right. We're wasting time." Robin agreed, pulling up his map. "Let's keep walking."

Kid Flash and Superboy begrudgingly followed into the maze of tunnels, followed by Miss Martian and Aqualad. The latter two exchanged a look.

"We're here," Bane announced, opening the door just a crack. It was enough for them to peer through and assess the situation.

"All clear." Robin declared after he stuck his head out, slipping out of the door quickly before anyone else.

"Has that little fool already been caught?" Bane questioned, looking around for him once everyone else filed out of the door and hid behind a cluster of massive pressurized containers.

"No. He just does that." Aqualad clarified, defeated.

"Stay put, I'll get our Intel and be back before the Boy Wonder."

"Wait, Kid!" Kaldur's warning was left in the dust as the speedster disappeared as well.

"Great chain of command," Bane commented.

The rest of the team looked at each other, wondering what to do from here.

Meanwhile, Robin had made his way to the higher levels and into the computer labs, breaking in and sending a batarang filled with knockout gas towards the single cultist at the computer. The robed follower didn't have enough time to react before the thing detonated, leaving him unconscious within seconds. Robin pushed him aside and got to hacking.

"It's a massive shipment." Aqualad noted, watching the cultists loading the crates outside.

"Yeah, but they're only taking new product off the line," Superboy added. "They're not touching this venom."

"Maybe, freshness counts?" Miss Martian tried to reason, but it sounded implausible even to her.

Superboy turned, listening in on something far away.

"Helicopter's coming." He warned.

Back at the computer lab, Kid Flash slid to a stop behind Robin. "Whatcha got?"

"Chemical formulas. I'm guessing it involves venom, but—"

"This one's venom," Wally said, pointing at the screen with a half-eaten candy bar, "and that one's— woah. The Blockbuster formula from Cadmus."

Robin pulled up more information on it, the screen displaying what was essentially the particle diagram of the two compounds mixed together.

"Mixed correctly, Kobra's new juice is three times stronger than Venom. And permanent." Wally approached the screen, studying the formula. "But how did Kobra get access to Project Blockbuster?"

"Our mystery buyer must also be Kobra's supplier! Using the cult to create a Blockbuster-Venom super formula." Robin stood up, tapping into his comms.

"Robin to Aqualad, we got—" he paused, "static." Shit. They must have sabotaged the transmission.

Outside of the faculty, the aircraft finally touched down on the helipad. Miss Martian hovered a few dozen feet above the air in her camouflage mode, studying the scene.

The doors of the helicopter opened, and a blond, armored man in a metal hockey mask walked out, striding towards Kobra and his cultists.

"Lord Kobra?"

"Sportsmaster." The robed man confirmed. "The shipment is ready."

On cue, a ginger girl advanced with a small case, containing vials of sample formula. Sportsmaster picked one up, studying it.

"The new Kobra Venom?"

"A complete success." The cult leader gestured towards the monstrous-looking creature standing by his side. "Our friends will not be disappointed."

"This is a game changer." Sportsmaster twirled the vial in his hand, " Finally, we can go mano a mano with the Justice League."

Edward could barely hear what was being said, but he caught just enough to know that he was no longer their main focus. It seemed whoever wanted him was on the justice league's ass as well. Welp, that worked for him. Now if he could just flip over that pebble under his shoe so he can scratch a transmutation circle into the floor—

Back at the warehouse, Kaldur perked up once he received Miss Martian's mental image.

"Sportsmaster! He is the buyer?" He whispered-shouted, immediately going for the comms. "Aqualad to Red Tornado. Do you read?"

There was a brief pause before he grunted. "I can't reach the league, Robin, or Kid. Comm's jammed." He turned to Superboy, "We need a plan. Now."

"I have a suggestion," Bane spoke, a half smirk on his face, before he hopped off the beam they were on, bellowing, and tackled two armed cultists.

"What is he—" he barely got to finish before the mutant Kobra beast burst into the warehouse with a mighty leap, shattering the glass and landing on the beam, breaking it in half and bringing it down under his weight. Aqualad and Superboy were forced to make a landing, rolling to defensive stances.

More cultists burst into the building, guns drawn, surrounding Lord Kobra and the ginger woman from before.

"Destroy them!" Their leader ordered.

Chaos ensued.

The Venom mutant charged, and Superboy ran forward, colliding with his middle and struggling against his grip as the other armed men marched past towards Bane and Aqualad. The latter was quick to summon his water shield and retaliate with a few water projectiles as well, knocking out a few. Bane ducked away, disappearing into the factory and leaving the others distracted with the fight.

Sportsmaster joined the rest, standing next to Lord Kobra and assessing the situation. He vaguely heard something fly by, like an invisible projectile, and looked around. He could barely catch it; the invisible entity had the vaguest of outlines in the dim lighting, quietly dispatching a few of the cultists. He pulled out a javelin and sent it flying towards the Martian.

Miss Martian dodged the spear by a hair's breadth, but it exploded immediately, sending her careening towards a wall.

The ruckus was enough to draw out Robin and Kid Flash, the two splitting up and Kid Flash joining the fight as well as more and more cultists appeared, while Robin covertly slipped out of the factory and into the clearing of the helipad.

He quietly tiptoed around and slipped into the vehicle, almost jumping out of his skin when something shifted in his peripheral.

"Robin?" Came the incredulous but tentative question. Robin turned to see—

"Fullmetal?" Shit, he almost didn't recognize the guy without his iconic masks. His face was bare save for a scowl, but his golden eyes were unmistakable. "The hell are you doing here?" Robin whispered. He quickly crouched down, pulling out his lock-picking kit and getting to work on the padlocks securing the chains around the blonde's arms.

"Oh, I don't know, I just walked into this random helicopter and stumbled myself into a couple of chains. The hell does it look like?!"

"Woah, woah, calm your discontent. I'm getting you out." Robin promised, quickly working.

"I was almost done getting myself out," he revealed, "but yeah. This is better." The padlocks came off, and the chains followed, clanging to the floor a little too loudly.

"So, what are you doing here?" Edward rubbed his wrists and looked around for his utility belts, watching once he put them on as the little bird got himself into the pilot seat and started messing with the controls.

"Sabotaging the ship." He clarified with a smirk. "We're kind of on a mission here."

Edward looked around, watching in case someone arrived and stretching his sore arms.

" We? Is Batman here?"

"Nope. Just the team at your service."

"Miss Martian, radio is jammed! Link us up!" Aqualad shouted over the hail of bullets as he retreated behind the massive containers.

M'gann shakily got up and regained her bearings. "Everyone online?"

"Yeah," Superboy confirmed begrudgingly.

"You know it, beautiful." Kid Flash thought.

"Good. We need to regroup." Aqualad ordered.

"Busy now !" Robin interjected as he slipped out of the helicopter.

"Batman must be desperate if he sends his whelp to task me." Lord Kobra drawled, the tattooed ginger woman by his side and blocking Robin's path. Robin glanced towards his companion, hidden behind the vehicle. The noise must have tipped the bad guys off.

"What's wrong, Kobi? You look… disconcerted!" He turned, distracting the two.

"This is beneath me. Shimmer, take him." He ordered the woman, and she charged at him. Robin flipped over her, evading her attack.

"Robin, now!" Aqualad ordered over the mind link. Shit. He had to go.

Robin glanced towards Fullmetal's hiding spot, noting with amusement that the blond had gotten his cue and left. Good. He dropped a small flashbang and disappeared as well, leaving Lord Kobra and Shimmer in the dust.

"So, why'd we leave?" Edward asked as he fell into step with Robin.

"Team says we need to regroup." He clarified, "Follow me."

They entered the factory, kicking down armed cultists in their wake as all stealth went out the window. Robin shot a line to the roof to gain some height advantage, and Edward transmuted the ground to flip from around them and pin the gunmen down.

"We need to retreat. Kid, clear a path." Aqualad said, attacking the armed men with his water whips.

Kid Flash obliged, running ahead and knocking down all of the cultists in their way to the secret entrance like a demented pinball, ricocheting off of each target.

Aqualad ran in, followed by Robin swinging down the line and Fullmetal running behind him, transmuting a barrier to slow down their enemies. Miss Martian floated after them, and Superboy held off the mutant beast, struggling to hold him back before there was a clap and a spark of lightning, and the monstrous man was being restrained by the floor, giving Superboy enough time to follow the rest of the team and force the gate closed.

Everyone made the mad dash through the tunnels, Superboy and Aqualad at the back looking at Fullmetal with raised eyebrows as he caught up to them.

"Explain later. Now run." He screamed, and as if on cue, the Kobra mutant burst through the gate, allowing the armed cultists to filter in, shooting at them from behind.

"Superboy, the support beams!" Aqualad shouted, and Superboy punched at the wooden beams holding up the mine walls, immediately causing the brittle structure to come crumbling down behind them.

It seemed this was good enough to hold them up. For now.

Everyone stopped briefly to catch their breath.

Aqualad cracked a glow stick, illuminating the tunnel as the lanterns were no longer working after their stunt.

"Who's the new guy?" Superboy questioned, tilting his head at their newest addition.

"Fullmetal. I was held as that sportsmaster douchebag's hostage in the helicopter until Robin busted me out."

"Is that true?" Aqualad turned to Robin for confirmation, the latter nodding without turning around.

He studied the wall of debris that closed off the tunnel.

"How could my first mission as leader go so wrong?"

"You do have the most experience, but perhaps that is exactly what has left you unprepared," Kaldur answered him.

"Fighting alongside Batman, your roles are… Defined. You two do not need to talk. But this team is new. And a leader must be clear, explicit. He cannot vanish and expect others to play a part in an unknown plan."

"Oh, so I'm supposed to hold everyone's hands?! Gah!"

Edward looked between the team members and Robin. Oh. Drama. He felt like a real outsider.

"Ugh, who am I kidding… You should lead us, Kaldur. You're the only one who can."

"Please! I can run circles—"

"Wally, c'mon. You know he's the one. We all do." Robin argued.

"Hello, Megan! It's so obvious." M'gann agreed.

"Coulda told ya." Superboy shrugged.

Wally looked at them, feeling outnumbered.

"Okay!" He agreed.

Everyone turned to Fullmetal, who was off in the corner, stretching his arm. He looked like a deer in the headlights.

"Hey, don't look at me. I'm not part of whatever you guys have going on."

Aqualad nodded in understanding and walked up to Robin. "Then I accept the burden." He placed a hand on Robin's shoulder, adding, "Until you are ready to lift it from my shoulders. You were born to lead this team. Maybe not now, but soon."

Robin nodded, a smile on his face.

"Okay, are you guys done? We need to get this over with so we can get the hell out of here." Edward interjected, cracking his knuckles.

"What he said." Wally agreed.

Kaldur turned to his team, nodding. "Alright. Our first priority is preventing that shipment from leaving this island."

"Funny. I had the same thought." Robin said, sharing a conspiratory grin with Fullmetal.

"Sportsmaster's the supplier/buyer, but it still doesn't track," Robin explained as they continued to advance through the tunnel. "He doesn't have the juice to acquire the Blockbuster formula, or to get Kobra to do his dirty work!"

"And neither of them have the chops to bond Blockbuster with Venom. That took some major nerdage." Wally added.

"Not to mention the cryptic messages he was giving me before I got kidnapped. Someone sent him and a bunch of other bad guys. Someone or someones, big enough to be moving all the pieces." Edward revealed, confirming their suspicions.

"I believe the expression is 'tip of the iceberg' ..." Kaldur trailed off, slowing down to a halt.

The rest of them followed as well, watching on as Bane blocked at the exit of the tunnel and dropped a few of what looked like explosives on the ground.

"Halt, niños. I'm feeling… explosive." He warned. Sure enough, the ceiling above them was lined with explosives, little devices beeping lightly.

"A pun that awful, and I might just kill myself and save you the work," Edward muttered.

"You betrayed us. Why?" Aqualad questioned.

"I want my factory back," Bane explained.

"Kid, you need a running start," Aqualad spoke over the mind link.

"So I forced you into a situation where you would either take down my enemies, or die trying."

Edward noticed Kid Flash retreating slightly. Everyone else seemed to know what was going on, glances being exchanged briefly.

"If the latter, the Justice League will certainly have come to avenge their sidekicks. And when the smoke clears, Santa Prisca would be mine once more!"

Okay, there was definitely something happening. Hopefully, that something was a plan. Edward was going to play along.

"Blowing the tunnel with you inside should have the same effect—"

There was a black and red blur, and the detonator was suddenly no longer in Bane's hand.

"With what?" Wally asked, leaning on a tree. "This trigger thingy?" He held up the detonator.

With a scream, Bane pulled his fist back and was about to attack. His strike didn't land, however, as he was pulled up telekinetically into the air and off his balance.

"Finally," Superboy walked up to him, his fist at the ready, "drop him."

Miss Martian released him, and he fell straight into Superboy's right hook.

"Okay, I'm gonna have to ask." Everyone turned to look at their newest companion as they were dusting off their hands. "How the hell did you just do that? Because if I remember correctly, you guys had a teamwork crisis about ten minutes ago."

"Miss Martian?" Aqualad spoke up, nodding to her. "On it." She put her hand to her temple, activating her telepathy and linking him up to the rest of the team.

"Mind link," Robin explained.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah! Woah!" Edward raised his hands, flailing in surprise, looking around frantically. "What the-?"

"Yeah. Freaked me out at first, too." Superboy supplied helpfully.

"How'd you just do that?" He exclaimed, his mind reeling.

"Telepathy! It's a Martian thing." She explained. "Just speak with your thoughts, and everyone on the link will hear you."

"... Awesome." Edward thought.

"She totally is." Wally agreed.

"You just said that out loud." Robin elbowed him.

"I did?"

"Yeah. Now let's focus. We need a plan. Kaldur?" Robin turned towards him, as did everyone else.

"Alright, here's what we're going to do."

Down at the factory, the helicopter's engine finally came to life again.

"The helicopter is operational, exalted one." The cultist spoke, bowing before Sportsmaster and his Lord. The former uncrossed his arms and strode forward towards the vehicle, case full of vials in hand, but he had to halt when the red and black blur burst into the scene, sending quite a few cultists flying at the force of the impact in his wake.

The cultists immediately opened fire, trying to catch the speedster to no avail.

"Take the shipment!" Kobra yelled, and Sportsmaster started running.

Superboy touched down in front of the helicopter, leaving a crater where he stood at the impact. He grinned at the Kobra mutant, challenging him.

"Go again?" The mutant screeched, charging at him only for the earth to come to life under him in a flash of lightning, swallowing him whole.

"Sorry, not the plan."

Superboy was knocked forward with a surprise shot to the back, as Sportsmaster revealed himself with an energy gun. He was quickly disarmed by a water projectile from Aqualad, knocking the gun out of his hand and forcing him to retreat into the ship's hatch, but not before catching Miss Martian's invisible cape and twisting an arm around her neck and sticking a smaller gun to the side of her head.

Cultists screamed as the dead trees behind them came to life and twisted around them, pinning their weapons to their sides while Edward knocked a few others with well-placed kicks and punches, delivered by his metal appendages for maximum efficiency. A cultist he missed shot him right in his automail arm, burning a hole in his jacket and throwing him off to the side. But he was also quickly knocked out by Kid Flash, who grabbed his Kobra mask and shouted, "souvenir!" As he ran off, knocking out a few more. Robin was quickly by Ed's side and pulled him to his feet before they stood back to back, Robin throwing batarangs and other gadgets, and Edward transmuting a bat out of the wall and swinging it around at everyone who was dumb enough to try getting close. They separated again when more cultists needed to be folded into the ground like batter.

Robin looked around once he was done with more gunmen and came face to face with Lord Kobra himself.

"I know you hate getting your hands dirty." He commented.

"True," he said, taking off his hood, "but sometimes, even a God must stoop to conquer." He tossed his robe aside.

Robin charged, aiming a knee at his face that he easily caught, followed by a round kick that he easily hopped over. Robin tried to kick again, only to be caught and kicked aside, sending him toppling back into a sliding crouch.

"What's wrong, boy? You look… disconcerted."

"Disconcert this, bitch!"

Aqualad held up a water shield, guarding himself and Superboy and allowing them to slowly advance as Sportsmaster shot at them with a crossbow he'd pulled out of his ass while Miss Martian was still held tightly in his chokehold. Once he had a foot in the helicopter, he tossed her forward and into the two, almost knocking them over.

Superboy caught her in his arms, steadying her. It was enough of an opening for Sportsmaster to get away in the helicopter.

The three exchanged glances, M'gann pulling the detonator out of her pocket with a grin. They waited for a few seconds, until he was high enough in the air, before Aqualad nodded and she pressed the button.

The rear of the helicopter exploded, and the whole vehicle careened to the ground. Sportsmaster parachuted himself out, abandoning the plane. The helicopter fell in a perfectly straight path towards the factory, setting the whole thing into a big, fat, blazing cloud.

It was beautiful.

Kobra unflinchingly took Edward's bat to the head, watching in horror as the warehouse completely caught fire. He grabbed the front of Robin's shirt as he tried to land a hit, his face twisted into a stony sort of anger.

"I am plagued by mosquitos." He growled.

"Good. 'Cause this mosquito's mighty concerted over your pain." Robin retorted through gritted teeth as he flailed around, trying to land a hit or two.

Kobra let go when another hit to the back of his head sent him off balance enough to make him take a few steps forward. Robin fell into a roll and retreated to the rest of the team, and Fullmetal followed, pleased with himself.

"Another time, then." He said, disappearing into the darkness.

"Shit. Where'd he go?" Edward inquired.

"Beats me." Wally shrugged, turning towards the rest of the team.

There was a brief pause as everyone took in the situation. The factory was on fire, the shipment was destroyed, Bane was defeated, Sportsmaster was stopped and Kobra fucked off to who knows where.

The mission was over.

"We picked the right guy to lead," Robin said, turning towards Kaldur. "Automatically making you the right guy to explain this mess to Batman." He cackled menacingly.

"So, what do we do about him?" Kid Flash pointed a thumb at Edward, who was doubled over, catching his breath.

"Bastard… Chasing me for two fucking days…" the blond muttered. "I'm right here, by the way!"

Kaldur approached. "You did well with us here today. Our team could always use another member." He offered, and everyone else gathered around, smiling and nodding in approval.

Edward looked up in disbelief. "Are you seriously offering me to join you guys after only knowing me for like, a couple of hours?"

"But you're a good guy!" M'gann said. "Like us!"

"Hey, we took Superboy in for less. And he attacked us." Wally said, earning himself an elbow from said clone.

Ed didn't know what to say. These people didn't even know his name, but he'd teamed up with others for less. Criminals. Homunculi. Military, even. Was this really any different?

But what about Alphonse?

Edward knew what his brother would've said. Come on, brother! Cut yourself some slack and do the right thing. But would it be the same without him? Even thinking about it almost felt like betrayal.

"I uh… I don't know."

"You'll still be able to go home if you want; you don't have to stick around twenty-four seven."

Oh. But... He couldn't.

"Or, you can stay with me and Superboy back at the ca- headquarters!" Miss Martian offered, sensing the tension.

"You don't have to join us. But it would be really beneficial to have a team watching your back for when those jackasses come pestering you again." Robin suggested.

It was true, he had a target on his back, and today was proof enough that he really couldn't do it alone.

Back home, he had Alphonse. He had Winry, Granny, and even the colonel and his men. Here, though… He was on his own.

There was no turning back.

"Okay." He nodded, and his response was enough to elicit a few collective cheers.

"Welcome to the team, Fullmetal." Kaldur extended a hand.

"Call me Ed." Edward took it, a determined grin on his face.

It was short-lived, however, as his right arm creaked and went limp a few seconds later, falling by his side. Kaldur's eyebrows shot up, and Wally jumped slightly.

Edward sighed in frustration, a sardonic grin taking over his expression as he stared at the sky.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

Chapter Text

July 23rd, 2:17

Edward gave a couple of hard whacks to his arm, the loud sound of his fist rapping on the metal appendage slightly perplexing the team as they watched on. It wasn't the strangest thing they'd seen in their lives, but it was almost off-putting in a way, especially as it took some time for them to process what exactly they were witnessing. If there was a secondary explosion in the factory behind them, nobody acknowledged it.

"Dude. What… are you doing..?" Wally questioned.

Edward finally got it to work, but the movement was far from smooth. The appendage creaked and groaned as it struggled to obey his nerves, moving erratically in jumps and pauses. He tried to force his fist to close, but a few fingers wouldn't budge, stopping halfway and shaking, making him groan in frustration.

"Ugh. I need to fix this." He grunted. It was honestly a miracle that it lasted this long and didn't break during the fight, a true testament to Winry's sheer skill and ingenuity. Trying to fix it on his own now, with his limited knowledge of mechanical engineering, would probably be two arduous tasks and a half.

He ripped off his jacket sleeve, torn and singed beyond repair, to reveal the full expanse of the glinting metal of the automail.

"Oh!" M'gann palmed her head, an expression of realization on her face. "This is a human prosthetic."

"I'm pretty sure I've never seen one like this before." Wally tilted his head, studying it with his arms crossed. "Did you make this yourself?" He added, his expression bright.

"No. That would be my mechanic, who I can't reach right now because reasons." Edward clarified with a sigh.

"Must be a pretty smart guy." Robin guessed.

"Girl. And yes, she's a total gearhead." Edward reminisced. It was a little hard to think about, almost felt more bitter than sweet.

"Ohoho—" Wally barked out a laugh, elbowing Robin with a conspiratory expression. The latter had a mildly sheepish look on his face.

"We can get you Red Tornado or Batman's help if you don't already have other options." Kaldur suggested, "They're probably the most capable of handling this level of engineering."

"Yeah. B can totally help you with this." Robin agreed. "This is so cool." He added.

"It so is." Wally agreed, eyeballing the exposed automail arm in all its scratched and dented glory.

"You should've seen it when it was new." Edward grinned, moving it around to find a better angle for whatever wire he'd accidentally fried.

"Alright, I'm contacting the league now and informing them of our new addition to the team," Kaldur interjected, reaching a hand to his communicator and turning halfway. "We need Red Tornado to rig the headquarters security system." He explained before leaving to walk a few paces away and have that undoubtedly difficult conversation. Boy, did nobody envy him for it.

Oh, of course. The league still had a hand in all of this. They probably supervised and handled everything to do with the team. They were their apprentices after all.

"What if they don't accept me?" He piped up.

"Hm?"

"I mean, you know. The league." Edward explained, but it only elicited confusion. "They're responsible for you guys, right? You're their sidekicks or whatever. I'm not. They have no reason to accept me into the team."

"We're not sidekicks ." Superboy crossed his arms, a scowl on his face.

"Not anymore," Robin confirmed.

"We're our own team, and the league can't stop us from making our own decisions," Wally added, nodding to the others.

"It's not like they can, anyway." M'gann shrugged.

"They can either get on board, or get out of the way." Superboy finalized, getting matching smiles from the rest of the team.

"You tell 'em, Supes!" Wally agreed.

Kaldur returned to the group, nodding apologetically towards everyone. "Batman agreed on the decision to integrate Fullmetal into the team. But by the sound of it, everyone is going to be receiving a lecture when we return. Including him."

There was a unanimous groan from the rest of the group, punctuated by another secondary explosion going off in the burning factory behind them.

"Yeah, it's probably time to go," Wally suggested when a piece of rubble almost got him in the back of the head, speed walking away from his previous spot.

M'gann floated a few feet above, closing her eyes in concentration and extending her hand to command the ship to their location.

"What is she doing?" Edward wondered.

"Summoning the bioship."

"The— the bio-what now?"

July 23rd, 3:14

Wally didn't know what to make of the new character. Sure, the guy seemed legit. He saw his… thingamajig powers in action today. They didn't seem fake or staged. But that didn't mean he was going to stop rationalizing everything in his brain as if the man of the hour himself wasn't seated across from him and fiddling with his freaking metal arm as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. And Wally has seen some shit in his fifteen years of life.

Fullmetal, or Ed as he liked to be called, had spent a good portion of their trip back to the mountain gawking at the interior of the ship like he'd never seen a flying vehicle before. And yeah, it was a thing of beauty. Almost as beautiful as the specimen piloting it, sure, but it was quite intricate. But Eddy seemed to have a list of exhaustive questions that never seemed to end as he asked away while Miss Martian attempted to answer to the best of her ability. He seemed hung up on the fact that the ship itself (and most of Martian technology, it seemed) was actually alive and somewhat sentient.

Wally had questions of his own. Some of them would undeniably be impossible to ask without earning disapproval (how did he end up with a metal arm? That had to have hurt.) and others pertained to academic curiosity (how exactly did his thing work? And no he was not accepting any alchemy magic bullshit explanation.) And as it seemed, the ship had fallen into an uneasy silence as everyone tiredly anticipated the lectures they'd be receiving upon arrival.

It was early morning, and in all honesty, he was starving, sleepy, and had miscellaneous pains and aches all throughout his body. He could give a fuck.

"Hey, Eddy?" He spoke up. "What sort of powers do you have?"

"What'd ya mean? I don't have any “superpowers”." The blond's head lifted, and he could see some wires poking out of his forearm.

"Oh. You know. The clap-go-lightning thing that makes you control the ground." He clarified, his hand lazily gesturing. "I wasn't born with powers either, just so you know."

"Oh. That." Ed shrugged, going back to his fiddling with the automail. "It's alchemy."

"Bullshit." Wally challenged. "Alchemy is just a glorified branch of magic, which is nothing but smoke and mirrors that idiots buy because they don't want to use their brains."

He closed the metal plate of his arm with a click and slowly turned in his seat, facing the ginger speedster with a vein popping dangerously on his forehead. Oh, he did not just say that.

"And what the hell do you know-" Edward paused, rant dying on his tongue, rethinking. Oh, yeah. Right. His alchemy didn't exist here. He would have reacted the same way, were he to be faced with the same situation. His anger died down as quickly as it came, rationality taking its place.

Alchemy in this world was known as nothing but a dead branch of magic. It was so underdeveloped that it was almost painful to read through what little faulty information there was about it. Wally was right, for the most part.

"It's… a different sort of alchemy." He explained half-heartedly.

"What does that even mean?" Oh, that only seemed to tick the speedster off further.

Robin groaned. "Walls. It's four a.m ."

Wally turned to him, his eyes narrowed. "It's bullshit and you know it."

"Why are you being so mean, Wally?" Miss Martian piped up, a frown on her face. "Magic is an admirable and sacred art."

"Oh, uh—" that seemed to make his face go red.

"Yeah, why do you think it's stupid, Wally?" Superboy added, a teasing tone hidden in his voice.

"Because—!"

"Guys!" Kaldur cut in. "Ed has only been in the team for an hour. Let's not tire him with an argument before we've even gotten back to headquarters." Kaldur warned, his voice commanding but tired.

Wally crossed his arms, slumping in his chair. Everyone else followed suit, quieting down.

Edward peered over to the pouting redhead.

"You're right. It's not magic." He said with a smirk. That seemed to make the other sit up expectantly.

"I'll explain later." He promised instead, making him groan and slump back down.

"Oh boy, I can't wait." Wally grunted.

July 23rd, 5:36

Edward looked around, taking in the inner structure of the cave. He'd been looking up at things so much in the past few hours that it was bound to give him a crick in his neck. Well, it was either that or the fact that his arm was limp now, and the force of its weight was slightly less bearable on his shoulder. But in all honesty, he couldn't help it. The ship was a marvel to look at, and the cave, awe-inspiring as it was, was conjuring up memories he didn't quite want to be conjured. It wasn't the exact same as the one under Central. Not nearly ominous enough. But he looked back down, not allowing his gaze to linger nonetheless. The rest of the team looked about as tired as he felt at the moment.

"Team." Red Tornado stood in the middle of the cave, stiff and commanding as usual. He regarded them with as much disappointment as his metal face plate could muster, which was none, to their surprise. His stance was neutral with a hint of relief at their presence.

They automatically dragged their feet into position, filing into a line in front of him as they had done before the mission, waiting for what he was about to deliver. Edward hesitated to follow, but did once too many eyes were on him, waiting for him to stand beside them. He took a spot beside Kaldur, who glanced at him with a small smile.

"You can go and sort yourselves out. Batman will not be present today." Red Tornado intoned, making everyone visibly relax at that. "You're dismissed."

"Jeez," Wally grunted, leaving to go take a seat somewhere. Superboy didn't spare anyone a glance as he walked towards the general direction of the living quarters, and Robin stretched and announced he was leaving. Kaldur patted Edward gently on his shoulder before turning to the zeta tubes as well, with a microscopic sag in his shoulders. M'gann turned on her heels with a smile.

"Would you like a tour of the cave?" She offered, beaming, before suddenly hesitating. "Unless, of course, you want to take some rest first?"

Edward didn't get to answer, however.

"Fullmetal needs to follow me." Red Tornado announced. He turned and strode away, pausing only to make sure that the blonde was following him.

Edward smiled sheepishly at the Martian. "Later?"

"I'll go make some cookies." She nodded, floating off in the direction of the kitchen.

Red Tornado led him through an elaborate pathway hidden through the cave.

???????????

"I've recovered a single ampule of Kobra venom," Sportmaster grunted, the scratches and burns on his mask glinting as the host of villains watched on from the screens surrounding him.

"Peut-être, it can be reverse engineered. Mais, what about the alchemist?" Said one of the voices in a heavy European accent.

"Slipped through. Aligned himself with the league brats." He replied, gritting through his teeth like his ego was still bruised about it.

"First Cadmus, then Mister Twister, now Santa Prisca and Fullmetal."

"Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. But three times is enemy action. And enemies of the light must not stand."

Chapter Text

Edward's back descended into the plush mattress in what almost felt like slow motion. This room was assigned to him by Red Tornado, and it was so awfully bland with its grey-ish blue monochromatic furniture and barren walls, just begging for the splash of style he would soon invoke upon it.

It was even more bland than the trashy inns he would stay in during his mission trips back in Amestris, which at least had a few pops of color with the occasional vase of fake flowers in it. But the mattress and the pillow were both soft enough for him to sink his aching bones into satisfyingly, and with the long, drawn-out sigh he had been accumulating ever since he found himself the target of whoever it was that Sportsmaster worked for.

He’s been accumulating it since he fell out of the sky into this new world, actually. But perhaps he was April’s fool for thinking he wouldn’t suffer the consequences of that.

His eyes calmly darted over the dimly lit blank canvas that surrounded him. It was almost mocking, in a way. This was the first time in years that he had a room.

He had told himself previously, during nights in which sleep eluded him and the subtle sounds of creaking the oversized suit of armor made as it sat across the room and flipped the pages of a book— allowing his little brother a semi-existence— were his only anchor to reality, that he would one day get a room to himself and he would put posters and diagrams on the walls. That he would put little monster statues and paint the walls a dark grey, and that he would make it as edgy and tacky as he possibly could so that it was his and his alone, not a sacrifice to be made or another thing to postpone for the sake of righting his wrongs. That he would build a house with his own hands, a house that was his and not his father’s , where Alphonse would have his own space and he would be flesh and blood to exist in it fully and he could get as many cats and dogs and snakes and monkeys and—

Edward didn't want to dwell on it. 

Not today, at least. He didn't want to go there.

He doesn't think he can go there.

He sighed again, this time with a subtle tightness in his jaw and a hand trying to soothe his temples.

Alphonse is alright now. He doesn't doubt it. He can't afford to doubt it.

Besides, that wasn’t Edward’s reality anymore. That wasn’t a world he belonged to anymore. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that it mattered once, and he’s done enough that it shouldn’t matter anymore. They were happy; he hoped against hope that they were. And he hoped against hope that he didn’t matter to them anymore. That his existence was so thoroughly erased from that universe that the pain of his existence and his subsequent absence didn’t register or matter enough to register to anyone anymore. That they’d be blessed for once.

Rumination never did any good for anybody. He needed to erase the thought of thinking from his head so that he wouldn’t taste the bile in his mouth and the salt of his–

The hardest thing about wishing that something didn’t matter was that the act of wishing itself came with the implication that it mattered enough for someone to be desperate enough to wish for something. Edward wasn’t the wishing kind. He was the pragmatic kind. He knew he had to take action to redirect his thoughts. Compartmentalize. Exercise self-control. Expel the idea. Recite your incantations so that you might exorcise it.

H - Hydrogen, He - Helium, Li - Lithium, Be - Beryllium, B - Boron, C - Carbon, N - Nitrogen, O - Oxygen, F - Fluorine, Ne - Neon, Na - Sodium, Mg - Magnesium, Al - Aluminum, Aluminium–

His outfit from the day was still on him, baked and caked in the grim of several days of fighting for his life. It was sensory hell, the way the dirt clung to every pore in his body and embedded itself deep into the crevices of his sockets and orifices, pooling around the corners of his heavy eyelids and in the scabs that thankfully formed before anything could contaminate them above the normal amount, and anything that was opened once had been cleaned thoroughly and bandaged. But he had elected to fully clean up and change after he took the world's longest beauty sleep. His bones ached too much, so it was a matter of weighing his options. He’d napped in worse conditions. But the ruminations and the paranoia were something else entirely. They just seemed to cling to every minor misophonic or hyperesthesic whim and amplify the already hellish nightmare of the experience. No matter how heavy the body, sleep would not come.

His arm wasn't attached to him at the moment, either, which he was ever so slightly paranoid about. But the Android had promised with as much conviction as he could muster through the artificial vocal cords he used to speak that he would not be tinkering with the prosthetic blind, and instead working on developing a replica. Edward chose to believe him, but it wasn’t an authentic enough conviction for him not to feel the worry creep up his spine at the idea of his arm being tampered with.

The technology here was pretty sick. It was, in fact, sicker than his earlier assessment, as well. Winry would have foamed at the mouth when the holographic scanner was brought out for him, immediately creating an image with all the parts that made up his prosthetics laid out from one cursory flash of light over his body. Hell, the image of Red Tornado walking around the cave and conversing with him would have been enough to elicit a gear-head meltdown on its lonesome.

"Fascinating." The Android had said. "I have never worked with this sort of engineering before. It is quite collaborative with the anatomy…" he trailed off a little, "it also helps that you have another one as well. Having a functioning prosthetic will be great for reference. I should be able to finish this quicker than I anticipated." He promised with a jovial tone that was undoubtedly consciously inserted into his vocal output, but still sincere in its delivery. Edward found it eerily easy to humanize the android. He couldn’t tell if it was a quirk of his teenage character to empathize, or just a testament to Red’s innate personhood.

"But before that, you need to go to the med bay."

“Huh?”

The sleek red face turned his way and looked as steely as ever. It didn’t break the immersion, just made him feel like he was back at Central HQ all over again, trying to speak to one of the soldiers about one professional matter or another. It just made him frown a little, even if he understood.

“To get an assessment. You have quite a few scrapes. It will be quick, no worries,” he reassured, and the mildly flip floppy personality almost gave him whiplash. It seemed the android was always ever so slightly unsure of what tone to use on which occasion, over-correcting occasionally. Edward was too tired to try and psychoanalyze a man made of metal when he could barely read average humans.

He had found himself longing for the sweet embrace of sleep all throughout the brief trip into the medical quarters. And maybe he was nodding off a little throughout the entirety of the process of getting seated and examined and patched up and ouch— the antiseptic burned his flesh arm, but it did little to keep him focused.

What did make him shoot up straight, though, was the process of removing his metal arm pending the repair.

“Apologies... Though I must say, these connections to the nervous system are stellar .”

“No worries.” Edward managed through gritted teeth, his nails digging into his thigh while his face scrunched up like a tablecloth in barely contained agony.

And then, after the walk back into the main area and another few turns he was guided into the empty room, sinking his weary bones deeper by the second into the warm embrace of the darkness— and the mattress— that gently supported his unraveling joints as they were getting decompressed from the day's action and his heavy automail.

He thought it'd be easy to go out after that, but he was still paranoid from the combination of his arm no longer being attached to him— or functional for that matter—, and the fact that he was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces. It was easier to blame his clinginess to the waking world on his brain constantly cycling and wrapping itself in the repetition of the months of being on the run, place to place, hyper-vigilant with his shoulders up to his ears and all of that post stress crap they handed out pamphlets about at the military functions and in homeless shelters that he denied but not nearly as much as he denied the true fact of the matter. He was ruminating on the familiarity, or lack thereof. He was thinking about back home with every turn of his train of thought. Even when he’d convinced himself he finally wasn’t.

He didn’t always believe himself, no. He was a bit of a liar. He’d tell the truth whenever he could, but when he’d cycle back to that— The endless Oroboros of dwelling on the past, forgetting himself and doing it over again— He’d choose to close his eyes and plug his ears and spew bullshit about how he’d forgotten it already, that it didn’t matter. Even if it was keeping him up at the moment. Fake it until you make it, wasn’t that how it goes? Something about compartmentalization. Table of elements. Then it’s gone for a few, until the head of the snake comes back around.

His eyes opened a crack as his frustration threatened to boil over. He was about to smother himself with his pillow when he saw it— the lurking shadow of two hovering feet pausing in front of his door, lingering for a good minute before they slowly continued to move.

M'gann.

She was lovely, if a little elusive. Earnest and eager to help, of course. He'd love to get a tour of the place from her once he had a good night's sleep. Maybe eventually he’d even understand how flight worked for her.

And Truth , a big poster would probably look really dope on his door. He was already thinking up what color motif it'd be. Probably something light enough that his clothes would stand out, but still on theme with the rest of the room. Splashes of red and silver, and a variety of other colors from the books he planned to fill the shelves with. Maybe some blues and yellows…

And with that, he finally, finally drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

“I have been able to patch the misplaced wires and fix a few dents. It should function comfortably now, but I suggest avoiding load bearing activity until I am finished with the replica.” Red spoke, setting aside his tools.

“Uhuh,” Edward nodded, belt still held between his teeth, now sporting new dent marks. With a tentative flex of his fingers, the joints creaked to life, a little smoother than they did earlier that week. He dropped the belt from his mouth with a “Huh.”

“I also took the liberty to do some much needed maintenance, I hope you don't mind.”

“That’s alright. Thank you.” He noted, turning his hand around to inspect the dented plate of his forearm. It looked considerably better.

“Say, would you be opposed to a few additions to your prosthetic?” Red added off-handedly. Edward turned to him, eyebrow raised.

“What kind of additions are we talking?”

“You might benefit from having a few enhancements, like a hidden weapon or a signal for cases in which your safety gets compromised. You are part of a team of heroes now, you may find yourself in predicaments that are greater in danger to what you’ve become accustomed to.”

“It’s actually par for the course, I'll manage.” He assured, then paused for a second before adding, “Enhancements, huh…”

Edward mulled it over. He didn't want to change Winry's designs in too great of a manner, not without her around to have her say in it. Not without her around. No. But— would she be banging her massive wrench down at his head if she heard him say that? She was always pushing for upgrades and design polishes and—

“If there's one thing I'm sure of it's that I don't want anything too flashy or bulky.” That was a constant. That was easy to decide on, he'd held the same staunch conviction that anything that hinders his swiftness was off the table. If he wanted spikes and knives, well, he could transmute them himself.

“I will make sure to keep them discreet. That is, of course, in the case that you do want said enhancements?”

Edward went quiet again, gaze glued to the far wall of the cave, counting the rocks instead of thinking about it.

“...Perhaps you need time?”

“Yeah.”

“That is understandable. You may take all the time you need, alterations to the prosthetic can be made retroactively.” He nodded, “You may take this as well, in the meantime.”

The android handed him a box and he peered inside, seeing a few bottles of machine oil and an assortment of cleaning tools that seemed to be higher end than what he'd grown accustomed to.

“Thanks!” Edward grinned, setting the box beside him before putting his belt and his tank back on.

As he pulled the box back into his arms and focused on the shiny new items, his face fell slightly. Winry was the one who was supposed to decide which oil was best for her creation.

He never stuck to her plans too strictly, to her mild annoyance and his great regret. This one reduces heat so it’s better and that one does this other thing he never bothered to remember.

“Something the matter?” The android swiveled his body around to face the form of Edward standing in the middle of the room, static.

Edward didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if to say, either.

“... My… Mechanic— She, uh, she was a childhood friend. This situation is reminding me of her, is all.” He decided.

“... Does that pertain to the reservations you have about the alterations?”

He didn’t answer. He simply hung his head low, bangs curtaining his face like the sad little child he absolutely and totally was not.

The silence lingered for a moment, letting him soak up all the dread that pooled around his conscience.

“There had been a time…” Red started, passively working his tools on some device as he spoke, “During my earlier years, in which I was attached to my maker’s designs— His vision, of my body.”

Edward turned slightly, one golden iris peeking from behind the barrier.

“It took me many years to have an epiphany about it…. About my ownership over it… And a few more to come to terms with the fact that it does not have to contradict my appreciation to my maker. I understand, to an extent, your dilemma about your arm.”

“I don’t think it’s all the same.” Edward said, his voice small.

“It is not.” Red agreed, “But it might offer you some insight.”

Edward sat back down, thinking. His eyes scanned the small little dents and scars that racked the metal plates that he absolutely refused to fix in fear that if he were to erase them, he’d forget how he got them. He wasn’t always like this. He’d broken the thing more often than not. He had transmuted it freely back in Amestris. He didn’t tremble at the thought of the day he’d gotten it. He didn’t feel dread at the thought of losing it. Would he forget what its intricate little details looked like if he were to change it? What it looked like?

Would he forget what her face looks like?

“I don’t think I’m ready.” He blurted out, lips pursed and jaw tight. A rattle sounded somewhere. It might have been the objects in the box, or might have been something else.

“That’s alright. There will be no further discussion of it, then.” Red Tornado nodded, “Not unless you feel you are ready.”

He set down his tools and turned towards Ed once more as his voice became softer, carrying all the expression his metal mask could not.

“And when you are, I’ll be here.”

“Thank you, again.”

“You are welcome.” He heard Red Tornado say as he made his way out of the infirmary and through the labyrinthian layout of the cave back to his room.

He wasn't ready yet. Not yet. Not ever.

He shook the idea out of his head. He'd exorcise it if he had to.

Edward placed the box on his nightstand and plucked a book from his tiny, growing collection. Speaking of—

He clapped his hands and produced an intricate bookshelf.

“That'll do it.” He muttered, placing the books on top of it. “Good enough.”

He stared at the set-up for a good moment, hands on his hips, before he shook his head and began rearranging the books by alphabetical order.

A woosh sounded behind him and the form of a red head, Kid Flash, appeared in his door. He should have closed it.

“You,” the speedster said, pointing at him as he stood smiling at the door, “Promised me an explanation, and I've been waiting all day. Meet me on the couch!” And then he sped off, leaving a quick afterimage.

Edward sighed.

July 23rd, 17:36

“So how does the clap thingie work—” Wally was stopped by the appearance of Robin, dark shades on, hopping beside him onto the couch and knocking the air out of his mouth.

“Dude. You haven't even told the guy your names yet.” Robin elbowed him. “This idiot here is Wally.”

“I already told you my name! It's M'gann—” she floated in with half burnt cookies, setting them on the small table in front of them before taking a seat herself. “But you can call me Megan, if that's too hard—”

“M'gann.” Edward said. “Thank you for the cookies.” He grabbed one off of the plate.

Kaldur walked into the room with a slight smile, followed by Superboy trailing behind him with a sheepish look and a smudge of grease on his face. “I forgot.” He muttered under his breath.

“Aqualad, Superboy,” Edward nodded towards the two as they seated themselves across from him.

“My name is Kaldur'ahm, but my friends call me Kaldur.” 

“Okay, so now that we're all here—”

“Does Superboy only go by Superboy?” Edward interrupted. Wally didn't seem amused.

“We're, uh… Trying to figure that out.” M'gann explained. Superboy looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh. Well, let me know when you do.” Edward nodded.

“Will do.” Superboy said.

“My name's Ed. No Eddy.”

“Cool. Cool. The alchemy.” Wally reminded.

“That's what it's called, yes.”

“Explanation. Now.” He demanded, adding, “please?” With his hands clutched together for added effect.

“Alright, alright.” Edward sighed, grinning. “Alchemy.”

Wally was already on the edge of his seat, eyes brimming with anticipation. Robin seemed to be stifling his laughter. The rest of the team looked at Edward attentively.

“It is the science,” He emphasized, “of understanding, deconstructing, and reconstructing matter.” He explained. He held up a slightly misshapen cookie. “Using what we call a transmutation circle.”

He placed the charred thing on the table and produced a piece of chalk from his pocket.

“This,” he gestured towards it, “is a regular piece of chalk.” He leaned over and began to draw a somewhat simple circle on the table around the cookie. He then clapped his hand and with a flash of lightning, the blackened bits had vanished and it looked a little more edible.

“Woah, you turned it back in time!” Robin exclaimed.

“Dude, he obviously just got rid of the surface layer of carbon using some hidden method.” Wally crossed his arms, scowling.

“Yeah. I reacted it with the oxygen in the air.” Edward spoke around a mouthful of cookie.

“Huh?”

“Carbon dioxide.”

“Oh yeah. It does make sense when you put it like that.” Robin supplied, hand on his chin.

“You seem genuinely surprised that he agrees with you.” Kaldur noted, arms loosely crossed with a small smile on his face. “Did you expect there to be some other more magical explanation?” He raised a blond eyebrow.

“Well— to be fair you never hear about alchemy outside of the whole 'lost magical practice’ context. This is a completely new experience for me.” Wally slumped a little. He shoved some cookies into his mouth.

“Would you say… You feel like a fish out of water?” Kaldur ribbed.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You all have it so much worse than I do. Cool. Cool.” He jutted his lower lip out in defiance, “but that still doesn't answer everything— I mean, how does a drawing start a chemical reaction?”

“Same way a human breaks the sound barrier without turning into paste.” Edward did jazz hands on either side of his face in emphasis, “Science!”

“It is not the same thing!”

“I'll explain this part to you but only if you explain the speed thing to me. And you better explain it good because I really do want to know.”

“Deal!” Wally smacked his hand on the table and leaned closer to the center.

“Ooh this is like watching the nerd Olympics.” Robin crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back, feet on the coffee table. The rest of the team watched on while eating their cookies.

“You're the last one to talk.” Wally rebutted in his direction. “Anyways— what was I saying? Oh right. Speed!”

He zipped off and came back to the room with a standing whiteboard.

“This is gonna take us all day, isn't it?” Superboy sighed. “I'm leaving.”

“Wise choice. But I want to witness this.” Kaldur leaned forward in interest.

“Me too!” M'gann chirped. “I'll get more snacks.”