Chapter Text
September 29th, 1914
He really shouldn’t have been surprised when he turned to confront the fake Maria Ross and instead found himself staring at Gracia. He’d just been stabbed by a woman with extendable claws and he’d seen this thing add the mole missing from its previous disguise with a crackle of red lightening. And yet, turning to try and buy some time, try and gain just those few more minutes it would take for Eastern Command’s switchboard to connect him to Roy, he’d found himself staring at one of the three people he would sacrifice everything for. For half a second, Hughes knew he would die, knew he couldn’t make himself move a single inch because his beautiful wife was pointing a gun at his chest. Then, the thing smiled and Hughes’ shoulder wound pulsed.
In another universe, one where the adrenaline ran just a bit stronger, where the pain stayed dulled just a little more, Hughes would have stayed frozen, his mind too shocked to comprehend much beyond his wife’s features, even with the uncharacteristic smile. But here, in this universe, the sudden stab of pain kicked his mind back into high gear. As the thing pulled the trigger, Hughes turned his body. The movement was miniscule, but instead of the bullet slipping between his ribs and passing through his left lung, the bullet caught on his rib cage and ricocheted up into his collar bone.
Slumped in the phone booth, Hughes was glad the thing was an arrogant piece of shit. After waiting what seemed like an eternity for it to disappear from sight, he managed to pull himself upright and stumble out of the booth. While his initial instinct was to call for an ambulance or stumble back into headquarters, his gut was telling him those options were death sentences. It took a long, agonizing moment for his brain to recall the doctor he’d served with in Ishval that lived in a suburb outside of the city. Now the only problem he had to tackle was getting there.
A cab would be too easy to track and stealing a car would be an absolute disaster. Walking was the only option, though it was a long shot with the way his vision was shifting and spinning with every step. Trying to look inconspicuous, Hughes managed almost a mile before his vision abruptly darkened for a moment and he stumbled. Next to him, a car pulled to a sharp stop and a man called out his window.
“Hey, you alright?”
Hughes froze right down to his core. Logically, this guy wasn’t one of the things after him. If he was, then there was no need for any sort of pretense. But how the hell could he explain his need to avoid hospitals with all the blood pouring out of him?
The front doors on the car slammed as the occupants got out and one of them grabbed Hughes by his shoulders, “Holy--! That is a lot of blood. Let’s get you to the—”
“No hospital,” Hughes said hoarsely. When the man tried to protest, Hughes continued, “Not safe. No. Hospital.”
At this point, the other man, the passenger, had gotten the back door open and was helping slide Hughes into the car, “Then where are we supposed to take you!?”
“Suburbs, north, know a Doc…” Hughes trailed off as the pain in his chest heightened. As his vision faded out, he rattled off an address he was pretty sure was Knox’s and passed out.
~*~
October 27th, 1914
The pain, while not entirely gone, had dulled to a deep throbbing in his chest the next time Hughes opened his eyes. The air smelled musty and the quiet clatter of dishes sounded from the open door to his left. Nothing in the room looked familiar and panic flitted through his mind. He couldn’t remember anything beyond passing out in the back of the stranger’s car, and while this clearly wasn’t a hospital, he couldn’t be sure he gotten away from that thing’s reach. He had to know where he was and were those two men were. They had to keep his location quiet, for all their sakes.
His vision flashed white and he let out a quiet whimper as he tried to push himself up. Then there were hands pushing him back down and a rough voice fading in and out of his ears. Opening his eyes –and when had he closed them?—he found Dr. Knox looking down at him.
“—down you idiot! I’m too tired to sew your sorry ass back together again!”
“I thought I got shot in the chest, not the ass,” Hughes rasped with a small, pain-filled smirk.
Knox’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at Hughes, “You got a smart mouth for a guy that’s been unconscious and delirious for the better part of a month.”
“A—“ He almost couldn’t comprehend it. Being out for a couple days, even a week would be believable, but a month?
“It’s October 27th. Combine blood-loss with two infections and it’s no surprise you were out for so long. Plus, this isn’t exactly a sterile environment. I’m pretty sure the med-tent in Ishval was cleaner than this place,” Dr. Knox gestured around the musty room, “And you kept ripping your stitches the first two weeks trying to get out of bed to ‘keep everyone safe’.”
“Wh—What,” he coughed for a few moments then continued, “What’ve I missed?”
Dr. Knox sighed deeply and sat down heavily next to where Hughes lay and tried to put the last few weeks into words.
“Fuck.”
~*~
Knox sat down heavily on his couch. He’d thought hiding Hughes from the troop of people storming through his house was hard. Telling a man that his family and best friend thought him dead and said best friend was running himself ragged trying to bring the killer to justice had been terrifying. Hughes may be known as a goofy and all around nice guy, but that didn’t mean the man couldn’t be serious and hard when it counted. It was hard to forget that the man was the shrewdest member of Investigations once he’d glared at you long enough. And glare Hughes had for almost five minutes. Then he’d abruptly tired and fell into a peaceful sleep.
Running a hand across his face, Knox stood and went to make a cup of coffee. It was gonna be a long day.
~*~
October 29th 1914
Against doctor’s orders, Hughes had pushed himself out of bed the moment he’d woken that morning. He had to be back to full health as soon as possible, even if that meant he worked himself to exhaustion. Hughes needed to be moving, needed to get out of bed and do something. He couldn’t just stare at wall all day, he had to work. The movement, the pain of walking helped clear his mind and keep it sharp. He had to process what he’d learned.
From the moment he’d registered that Amestris was a fucking circle, Hughes had known his days were numbered. While most people, even alchemists, wouldn’t recognize the significance of the country’s shape, Hughes had spent his career looking at some of the oddest and most perverse shit to come out of the human mind and had learned to trust his gut. And boy, had his gut stumbled onto the biggest conspiracy of all time. And while he didn’t know what the circle actually did, there was no way it was anything good.
Hughes had to pause a moment and lean against the table in the kitchen as nausea welled inside him. The amount of blood Amestris had spilled from the very beginning of the country was immense. Over 400 years of bloodshed and for some sort of evil plan? And it had to be evil because nothing good could come out of that many deaths, no matter how you tried to spin it. And even worse, he had no problem believing that the military would condone such a plan. He’d seen what the military, what the Fürher would do at the smallest sign of insurrection. He’d been turned into a murderer just because they’d needed blood to soak the ground. He’d seen his best friend fall apart time and time again all because someone wanted to cover the country in death and destruction. He was going to lose his beautiful wife and precious daughter to the military’s schemes.
“Hey! Look at me! You need to calm down!” said a faint voice from somewhere behind Hughes and he realized that sometime between when he started thinking, really thinking, about what he’d discovered and now that he’d started hyperventilating. Focusing, he tried to get his breathing under control. The slow, rhythmic press of a chest against his back slowly helped him calm.
“You idiot, what were you thinking?” Knox said, exasperated. He was holding Hughes’s back to his chest and keeping his breathing slow and exaggerated, “This is why you should be in bed. I don’t need a heart attack from finding you sprawled across the floor.”
“S-sorry. It just all kinda hit me at once,” Hughes pushed himself forward and turned so he could see Knox. They both stayed sitting on the floor staring at each other.
“You ever gonna tell me why the military wants you dead?” Knox quirked an eyebrow, “I’d like to know what I’m risking my life for.”
Hughes felt his heartbeat pick up but took a few deep breaths. He couldn’t afford another panic attack, “You know how all that freaky alchemy stuff can do some pretty horrifying things in the wrong hands? Well, it seems like the ‘wrong hands’ have been running this country from the beginning.”
~*~
October 31st, 1914
“Sit your ass back down or I will tie you to that chair until Mustang gets here!”
Hughes glared half-heartedly at Knox before sitting heavily on his chair, “But we can’t even talk to him! There’re too many eyes in Central!” he whined piteously.
Knox sighed heavily, “Yes, so we have to wait for him to reach out to me, I know. We’ve been over this 24 times Hughes. Rehashing it will not make anything go faster.”
“At least let me write a note or something? He’ll recognize my handwriting and—“
“And probably kill me for faking a note from you. And what if one of those homnco-things gets ahold of it? Or if the Mustang I’m talking to is that shape-changer one? What then?”
Hughes slumped forward, hands running back and forth through his hair, “I just…sitting here and doing nothing is killing me!”
“You think I like waiting?” Knox rubbed a hand across his face, “And the less people who know you’re alive, the less reason they have to go after your family.”
Lifting his head, Hughes stared hopelessly at Knox, who stared right back. All they could really do was hide and wait for the right opportunity.
~*~
November 1st, 1914
Roy Mustang was sorely tempted to bang his head against the side of the telephone booth. After calling RIza and attempting to subtly clue her into the info he’d received from the Armstrong’s florist informant, he realized that he really did need to get rid of a car full of flowers. Having called most of his usual contacts, including his foster mother/aunt Madame Christmas, he still had over half of the bouquets left. Racking his brain for anymore numbers before he would have to resort to leaving some on Gracia’s doorstep and Hughes grave, he finally pulled out another name. Knox wouldn’t be pleased, but maybe the cranky doctor would have an idea. And he’d heard through the ever popular military grapevine that the man’s wife and son had reconnected with him so maybe he’d take some of the flowers off his hands?
The phone rang for an inordinately long time. Roy was about to hang up when the phone was picked up and Knox’s crotchety voice sounded on the other side of the line.
“Yes.”
“Dr. Knox! How are you this fine evening?” Roy cheerfully replied.
There was a long moment of silence from the line then Know said, “Terrible as usual. Was there a reason you called?”
Roy let out a forced laugh and answered, “Actually yes, I got a little drunk and—“
“I’m not patching your ass up if you did something stupid Mustang.”
“Ah, no, I’m not hurt. I just have a car full of flowers that I’m trying to get rid of. You want any?”
Silence once again filled the other side of the line before Knox sighed, “You do some stupid shit when you’re drunk. I’ll take some off your hands if you bring them here. And I might know some other people who’ll take some.”
“Really?” Roy was surprised. Calling had been a long shot that he’d been expecting to end with the doctor ranting his ear off and then slamming the phone, “Great, I’ll drive right over. See you soon!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
~*~
Knox turned from the phone to look at a where Hughes was asleep on the couch. The man had finally passed out after two days of forced bed rest interspersed with bouts of frantic pacing. The part of him that remembered life before Ishval, remembered what it was like to care about a patient’s wellbeing, remembered working with flowing blood and a beating heart, wanted to leave the man asleep. Hughes had been worrying himself sick for days and he was still weak enough from his last bout of infection that catching a cold might actually kill him. But on the other hand, Hughes might glare him to death if he missed Roy’s reaction to his not-so-dead state. That is if Roy didn’t immediately incinerate them.
With the incoming threat of a painfully hot death, Knox shook Hughes shoulder. Hughes woke with a start, his eyes hazy. In the few moments it took for his eyes to clear, Knox placed a hand against the man’s forehead. Hughes was a little warm, but the heat wasn’t alarming.
Hughes gave Knox an amused look and cocked an eyebrow, “So what’s the prognosis Doc?”
“You’ve contracted an acute case of dumb-assery. Unfortunately its terminal so all I can do is make you comfortable until someone kills you, “ He replied, deadpan, “Also, Mustang called. He’s on his way here.”
“You’re shitting me,” Hughes looked shocked.
“Nope. Now get your ass in the bedroom. I don’t want to die the moment he walks in.”
Hughes was up and hiding in the bedroom in moments with a speed belying his weak state. Knox checked the front rooms for any signs of Hughes being present with a forced calm. When he was sure there was nothing that could clue Mustang into Hughes’s presence, he went to the kitchen and started the kettle a grabbed some dusty mugs. He was going to need caffeine if he wanted to get through the night.
A knock sounded at the door just as Knox was pulling a box of tea bags from a cupboard. Taking a deep breath, he moved to the door and answered it.
“Gotta admit, I didn’t think you were one for flowers Doc,” Mustang smiled and offered Knox a large bouquet of pink tulips.
Letting the man in, Knox grudgingly took the flowers and closed the door behind Mustang, “Were you followed?”
Roy cocked an eyebrow but was unsurprised, “No. Not that it would be that hard to find me since my car is bursting with flowers. Now, what couldn’t you say over the phone?”
Knox carefully set the flowers down on the coffee table and asked, “Why did I have to sew your arm back together in the back of the med-tent at 3 in the morning the first month you were in Ishval?”
Becoming very still, Roy turned and gave Knox an appraising look before answering, “I got into a fight with Kimblee that started with fists and ended with him trying to turn my arm into a bomb. What’s going on?”
“I’m gonna need your gloves and any other weapons you have on you.”
“Knox—“
“Please just trust me Roy.”
Stunned at the use of his first name, Roy considered Knox for a full minute before reaching into his coat and pulling out his gloves. Then, he reached down and pulled a knife from a sheath around his ankle. He handed both to Knox, “Now you wanna tell me what the hell’s going on.”
“Hello Roy!” Hughes greeted before Knox could say anything. He walked out of the bedroom where he’d been hiding and waved.
Roy’s face lost all color and he took a startled step back before his face contorted into a furious expression and a knife slid into his hand from a wrist sheath. He held the knife in a familiar cross body position, ready to throw it just like Hughes had taught him back in their academy days, “What the fuck, Knox. He—I—What—“
“Roy! Please let me explain!“ Hughes stepped forward, trying to calm his friend. Roy brandished the knife in front of him as he stumbled backwards until his back met the wall. Angry, disbelieving tears formed in the corners of Roy’s eyes.
“NO! You’re dead! I—the blood—it—“ Roy was coming apart at the seams, “But she said she saw your body! And she talked about the scars, and your birthmark!”
“Whoever ‘She’ is, she lied Roy. I’m right here. You remember that Saturday after we got back from Ishval? I was dragging you all over Central trying to set you up with every girl we passed. The baker on H street punched me for insinuating that his daughter wasn’t good enough for you and as we were running away I pulled you into—“
“Into Madame Christmas’s, where you then tried to set me up with all of my sisters at the same time,” The knife slipped from Roy’s suddenly numb fingers as he stared at Hughes, “Maes, is…is it really…”
“Yeah, it’s me Roy-boy, in the flesh” Hughes grinned widely at his best friend as he walked forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. Trembling, Roy’s arms slowly wrapped around Hughes and completed the hug. The men leaned into each other, tears of relief pouring down their faces. The scene would have continued on for hours if not for one impatient, forgotten doctor and a whistling kettle.
“Are you two gonna cry all night or are we actually gonna get to the talking part?” Knox called as he went to pull the kettle off the stove.
Faces red, Roy and Hughes reluctantly pulled apart.
“It’s…it’s really good to see you Maes.”
“You too, Roy,” Hearing Knox start grumbling in the kitchen, Hughes continued, “We’d better get in there before he slips poison into the tea or something.”
“A sedative more like. I put enough work into keeping you two alive, killing you now would be a waste of my time,” Knox said as he set the mugs of tea down on the kitchen table, “Though it would save me some trouble in the future.”
Sitting down and picking up one of the mugs, Hughes blew lightly on the scalding liquid before taking a tentative sip. He’d been planning what he would say to Roy the moment Knox had finished telling him about what he’d missed while unconscious, but it had all flown straight out the window now that he actually had to explain everything to his best friend. Where should he even start? The circle? The shape-changing thing? Or maybe with an apology for leaving Roy hanging, literally?
“I…stumbled upon something. And it’s not good,” Hughes stared down into his tea, “It’s…It’s pretty fucking terrifying actually.”
Taking a deep breath, Hughes looked up and stared straight at Roy, “Amestris is a transmutation circle that’s been built on the spilt blood of thousands. Every major conflict since the beginning of the country has just been another fucking point on a circle. It’s huge, Roy”
Roy’s face paled as Hughes grabbed the map he and Knox had put together the day before. Spreading it on the table, Roy immediately began examining it. When his eyes completed a full rotation of the map, he jerked back from the table and his stomach roiled. Slapping a hand over his mouth, he breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to regain control, before he finally gave in and ran for the bathroom. Deciding to give Roy a few minutes to regain some composure, Hughes and Knox shared a glance. While they knew that the circle must be something terrible, getting conformation in the shape of a puking Roy made it all the more terrifying. Roy wasn’t one to break easily, especially after the genocide they’d committed in Ishval.
They jumped when Roy suddenly sat back down at the table. He was still pale and droplets of water clung to his forehead, but he looked mostly calm, “What do you two know about the philosopher’s stone?”
Knox gave Roy a stern look, “That’s what’s in those homoncu-things right?”
“Yeah, one can be the ‘heart’ of a homunculus. And you can use it for way more than that. Philosopher’s stones break the law of equivalent exchange without rebounding the transmutation onto the alchemist. It’s a miracle wrapped up in a little, red stone,” he paused to take a fortifying sip of his cooling tea.
“I can sense a ‘but’ coming,” Hughes said hesitantly.
“But, for all that power, there has to be a price, “ Roy rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find an easy way to phrase it, but coming up short, “The main ingredient, the only ingredient in a philosopher’s stone is human lives. And that circle? That’s how you make one.”
Silence reigned in the small kitchen. Nobody moved for a long minute before Knox’s mug finally slid out of his numb hand and spilled tea across the map.
“Oh god…” Hughes whispered, his voice barely audible.
“And we can’t even do anything about it. I’m under heavy scrutiny so warning anyone I care about will put them at risk. All we can hope for is a surprise attack. I’ve been compiling as much information as a I can and I’m hoping to get some more from the Elric’s once they get back from the North.”
“But, Gracia and Elysia! We have to—“ Hughes stood suddenly, tears once again building in his eyes.
“We can’t! Everyone knows that they mean as much to me as you did so if they suddenly decide to take a trip out of the country, they’ll be killed. Hell, I can’t even smuggle them to Xing!” slamming his fist on the table, Roy quieted, “From the moment you died I’ve been trying to keep everyone safe. I’ve already thought of every possibility Maes. I don’t want them anywhere near this but there’s just no way. I’m so, so sorry, but there is nothing we can do but hope we can stop this.”
For the next few minutes, only the sounds of heavy breathing sounded in the kitchen before Hughes sighed heavily and sat back down, “Alright, then how’re we gonna fight this?”
The rest of the night was spent planning. At one point, Knox declared his abilities to help spent and disappeared into his bedroom. A couple hours later, pain in Hughes’s chest forced the two to move into the room Hughes had been occupying. By the time the early morning sun began peeking through the closed curtains in the kitchen, the house was filled with the quiet snores of the three men.